11/21
Today was a great day, warm skies, no rain, ideal for working aloft. It’s a welcome patch in what has been maddeningly topsy-turvy weather here. The amount of work that has to get done aloft in the ship’s rig before winter was becoming overwhelming.
The weather teases us.
Sometimes it teases me by shining the warm sun, nudging my way a pleasant little morsel of autumn wind now and then, and I think, “what a perfect day for going aloft to do this three hour job I’ve been needing to do!” Then, five minutes into my work, a gang of thick, mud-and-steel clouds surround the friendly sun and pounce. I presume they do so with a snicker. The wind picks up, the temperature drops, and with their cruel, uncanny precision, the same thugs that jumped my workmate spit sleet or stinging snow flurries at me. My exposed hands, gripped around the shrouds, go numb. I finish the job. Why? Because I am a sailor, not a sally. Though I do generally go into the furnace-warmed galley for a thaw by hot cocoa afterwards.
Three times now this conniving atmosphere has greeted us with warm sun and gentle breeze serving as flimsy façade for the incoming gale or a hurricane, and we are forced to waste the nice weather, instead buttoning down docking gear and making sure we are secure for the storms. Then, the next day, bright and sunny again, to tease us as we work cleaning and repairing the damage done by the devious douche-bag weather systems.
The rest of the time: drizzly.
But not today.
Today was clear. There is the promise of storms tomorrow, but nothing so Biblical we needed to drop our work and get to preparations. Today we chalked off nearly half the list of the work that needs to be done aloft before the freeze of winter and all the snow and ice come and take tenement here for the next months.
The days have been ticking away louder and louder as the calendar pulls us closer and closer to that time, and work has been slow, and the list has been looming.
Most days, of the three deck crew, I am the only one working aloft. The others are doing things on deck and in the warehouse that also must get done.
But not today.
Today we had visitors, old friends from past voyages here to say hey, and eat our food, and buy us rum and beer, and help out with the dishes, and reminisce, and tell new jokes, and – ghasp! – help with the ship’s work! There were three of us aloft today! We packed sheaves with grease! We sealed up the wire stays! We downrigged weatherworn and unused bits of rigging! It was a very exciting time. At the end of the day, the entire foremast was ready for winter’s worst, leaving only the main and mizzen masts, which don’t have quite so much that need to be done. Ryan made pork chops for dinner, I made important steps towards getting my necessary certifications, the work aloft has a significant and happy dent, I am covered in the glorious, barbecue-smoke-and-wood-chip-scent of pine tar, Shackle and I shared some beautiful black rum, I took a hot shower, and I will sleep well tonight. A great day.
November 22, 2007
November 8, 2007
Big Winds and Reality with a Sneeze
11/3
Yesterday, though the skies were blue and the weather was warm, we could see the front edge of the approaching hurricane Noel, a milky, thin layer of clouds sliding up from the south. This morning the skies are dark and squally. The weather service is predicting sustained winds of 75 knots, gusts up to 90.
The past two days we have spent working to button down the ship and dock in anticipation of the storm. Dock lines have been reinforced, sheds have been hammered shut, and the small boats have been pulled out, resting well up on shore. We all sit, below decks, eating cereal and watching cartoons, ducking our heads up occasionally and monitoring the skies and seas, patiently waiting for the hurricane’s arrival. We are all tense, but there is also a bit of electricity. For my part, as long as everything here holds safe and sound, I am fairly excited about the promise of the spectacle, and tentatively look forward to seeing just what Noel has to offer us.
11/4
Storm blew through. Didn’t quite reach the predicted gusts of 90 with sustained 75, but close enough; sustained winds of about 65 knots. Hardly any damage done to the ship, just some paint rubbed off, but lots of damage done to the dock here. Wave surge took out a large portion of the planks and 6x6 solid cross-spars at the near edge, including bits of the cement driveway. When it was blowing its hardest, waves were crashing up through the dock. The storm’s aftermath left pilings, covered in tires we had lashed on yesterday as protection, ripped off of the dock, victims of our 300 ton steel ship grinding against them. The tires protected us, but the massive wooden spars were not so fortunate, many now floating in the harbor like corpses.
The other ships in the harbor appear to be secure as well. One ship is gone; they had to motor away in the middle of the night because they dragged their anchor and were blown into the rocks. But this came as no surprise to us, as this ship is always so notoriously poorly anchored (a sure sign of lame seamanship). We were confident they would drag last night. The thing drags when someone at the far side of the harbor coughs too much.
We are all tired. None of us slept much, just a few winks. We were all on edge, ready to pop out of our racks the instant trouble came. We were called twice to adjust dock lines, and reapply broken or worn fenders and chafe gear, but thankfully no emergencies. It did get to a point though where, if it had worsened any, Captain would have had us abandon the scene altogether.
Today it is calm and sunny, and the tropical storm has left behind some warm air. The dark steely ceiling has been replaced by a dome of blue, spotted here and there with white cotton puffs.
11/5
Work today was mostly repairing the damage done and refitting what was damaged or lost. Another bit of weather is supposed to make its way here late tomorrow or sometime Wednesday. Terrific
11/6
Gale is here. It had been working its way in all day. I was aloft when it started blowing, and I came down, frozen to the bone. I was not outfitted for cold, overcast, and windy, and when you are 50 feet up, the wind blows quite a bit harder.
I had my first curling lesson tonight. In short, it’s an absolute blast, totally a social game, but enough physical exertion to keep you energized. I went with Maggie, the ship’s purser, and Kjetl, (pronounced kind of like Shyetle, but we all call him Shackle because it’s easier and he doesn’t laugh at us), the other deckhand here for the winter (also, he’s from Norway). More on curling to come.
11/7
One of our main priorities before winter really kicks in here is to get the topmasts painted. The primer we’re using is an aluminum paint that, when it dries, becomes solid metal. The fumes are remarkable. My eyes crossed a bit when I cracked open the can. So I donned a breathing mask, and set up for the project, looking a bit like Darth Vader’s other-other long lost child. I felt pretty bad-ass when I caught sight of my reflection in a porthole, but then I sneezed. Life.
Yesterday, though the skies were blue and the weather was warm, we could see the front edge of the approaching hurricane Noel, a milky, thin layer of clouds sliding up from the south. This morning the skies are dark and squally. The weather service is predicting sustained winds of 75 knots, gusts up to 90.
The past two days we have spent working to button down the ship and dock in anticipation of the storm. Dock lines have been reinforced, sheds have been hammered shut, and the small boats have been pulled out, resting well up on shore. We all sit, below decks, eating cereal and watching cartoons, ducking our heads up occasionally and monitoring the skies and seas, patiently waiting for the hurricane’s arrival. We are all tense, but there is also a bit of electricity. For my part, as long as everything here holds safe and sound, I am fairly excited about the promise of the spectacle, and tentatively look forward to seeing just what Noel has to offer us.
11/4
Storm blew through. Didn’t quite reach the predicted gusts of 90 with sustained 75, but close enough; sustained winds of about 65 knots. Hardly any damage done to the ship, just some paint rubbed off, but lots of damage done to the dock here. Wave surge took out a large portion of the planks and 6x6 solid cross-spars at the near edge, including bits of the cement driveway. When it was blowing its hardest, waves were crashing up through the dock. The storm’s aftermath left pilings, covered in tires we had lashed on yesterday as protection, ripped off of the dock, victims of our 300 ton steel ship grinding against them. The tires protected us, but the massive wooden spars were not so fortunate, many now floating in the harbor like corpses.
The other ships in the harbor appear to be secure as well. One ship is gone; they had to motor away in the middle of the night because they dragged their anchor and were blown into the rocks. But this came as no surprise to us, as this ship is always so notoriously poorly anchored (a sure sign of lame seamanship). We were confident they would drag last night. The thing drags when someone at the far side of the harbor coughs too much.
We are all tired. None of us slept much, just a few winks. We were all on edge, ready to pop out of our racks the instant trouble came. We were called twice to adjust dock lines, and reapply broken or worn fenders and chafe gear, but thankfully no emergencies. It did get to a point though where, if it had worsened any, Captain would have had us abandon the scene altogether.
Today it is calm and sunny, and the tropical storm has left behind some warm air. The dark steely ceiling has been replaced by a dome of blue, spotted here and there with white cotton puffs.
11/5
Work today was mostly repairing the damage done and refitting what was damaged or lost. Another bit of weather is supposed to make its way here late tomorrow or sometime Wednesday. Terrific
11/6
Gale is here. It had been working its way in all day. I was aloft when it started blowing, and I came down, frozen to the bone. I was not outfitted for cold, overcast, and windy, and when you are 50 feet up, the wind blows quite a bit harder.
I had my first curling lesson tonight. In short, it’s an absolute blast, totally a social game, but enough physical exertion to keep you energized. I went with Maggie, the ship’s purser, and Kjetl, (pronounced kind of like Shyetle, but we all call him Shackle because it’s easier and he doesn’t laugh at us), the other deckhand here for the winter (also, he’s from Norway). More on curling to come.
11/7
One of our main priorities before winter really kicks in here is to get the topmasts painted. The primer we’re using is an aluminum paint that, when it dries, becomes solid metal. The fumes are remarkable. My eyes crossed a bit when I cracked open the can. So I donned a breathing mask, and set up for the project, looking a bit like Darth Vader’s other-other long lost child. I felt pretty bad-ass when I caught sight of my reflection in a porthole, but then I sneezed. Life.
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