[chronicles] Wave Over Wave, Sea Over Bow
Mar. 18th, 2010 01:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redroanchroniclesOkay, so you've seen Master & Commander, right? Think back. I know it's difficult to see past the glory that is Paul Bettany and the even greater glory that is Paul Bettany playing the cello. (It's okay. I'll pause while you enjoy that image for a moment, and in the meantime I'll answer a question that I know you're wondering about: he was pretty much faking it with the cello -- "Our fingers are in the right place, and our bowing is good, but you wouldn't want to hear the sound we were making. You could follow the tune, but it sounds a lot more like you're trying to climb inside a squirrel than I think Mozart had intended." -- but apparently he did learn to play pretty adequately for his later role as Charles Darwin in Creation.)
Damn you, Paul Bettany. You're side-tracking me again, as so often happens when I think about you and your glorious cranium. I came here to talk about ships, which is where I started with the whole Master & Commander thing. So you know those amazing tallships that you see in these "age of sail" sort of films like Pirates of the Caribbean and Horatio Hornblower? Did you know that in many seaports around the globe, you can find these same sorts of ships still sailing? The ones I'm familiar with are replicas, but supposedly there are some originals still floating about, too. That's the word on the street.
If you're me, this is very exciting. If you're me, that means that you could actually climb aboard one of those ships and manfully restrain yourself from making Hornblower references. If you're me, it means that you can finally find fellowship among other people who know sea shanties by heart.
Which is exactly what I did when the Historic Seaport's lovely little topsail ketch, The Hawaiian Chieftain, stopped in Humboldt Bay.
I don't really have any terribly witty and amusing anecdotes to share with you, I'm afraid. I had an excellent time, though it was incredibly, bitterly cold out on the water. The crew, most of whom are volunteers and who joined the crew in much the same way that one might run away and join the circus, were absolutely fantastic and had delightful stories to tell. (I won't even mention their period garb, but suffice it to say that they looked quite dashing.) I was afraid I'd get horribly seasick, but I didn't at all (though on the open sea, I must say, there probably would've been a different outcome). We were out on the Bay for three hours, but it seemed like much less.
The rope-handling skills! The hats! The peacoats! The mast-scaling skills! I tell you, I was this close to attempting to start a spontaneous rendition of "Barrett's Privateers." And they probably would've known the words, too.
OOOOOH THE YEAR WAS 1778 -- HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOOOOOOOOW!
Sorry. I got carried away. That happens with these things. We did sing a few sea shanties and sailor songs together though, and I tried not to be too proud about actually knowing the refrain to "Wild Rover." (I have much to thank you for, Great Big Sea.)
Unfortunately, the Hawaiian Chieftain was sailing solo this trip, as her sister ship the Lady Washington -- which was one of the stars of Pirates of the Caribbean -- is in port to have a new mast, new engine and other updates fitted to help bring her up to California emission standards. (I know. Emissions! On a tallship! But they sort of need an engine these days so they can keep to their schedule and maneuver in busy ports.) Next time they come around though, I'm hoping to embark upon a Battle Sail, which is as bad-ass as its name implies.
This fine gentleman is named Andrew. Captain Andrew. He was kind enough to help me strategize vantage points where I might be able to get some shots of the ship from shore when they set out for another sail the next day. (I ended up running late and suffering foul weather, so unfortunately I didn't get the shots, but I don't even know if they bothered with the trip anyway. I don't know that I'd want to sail in that sort of miserable weather with a group of little kids.) Then I ran into him at the bookstore and gave him a ride further into town where he needed to run an errand. I must be growing as a person, because shy-me would never have talked to the captain of a beautiful, beautiful boat. Shy-me definitely would not have offered a stranger a ride anywhere. I believe shy-me has been dashed upon the rocks of MY NEW AWESOME and swept away to sea, and I can't say that I mind. Andrew and the rest of his crew are awesome people and I'm delighted to have spent a few hours in their company. Their salty, seafaring, bearded company.
More photos from my 3-hour tour (A 3-HOUR TOOOOOUR!) can be found here, with an additional set here. The latter group are photos I took for my fellow trip-goers of their awesomeness in action; one young man helped the captain pilot the ship, and several other adventurous souls paid an additional donation to the Historical Seaport's programs and got to scale the aft mast. (I have no idea what technical terms I am using. I am making them up as I go along. They climbed up some ropes and onto a crow's-nest thingy and it looked both incredible and terrifying. I think I'll do it next time.) I helped haul away ropes a few times and it made me feel both useful and powerful. And, strangely, like I needed to grow a beard.
The Historical Seaport is based in Washington State and does tours all up and down the west coast, more or less year-round. They are essentially a living history program, and trust me when I say that they make learning awesome. They offer free tours of the ship to the public, all sorts of paid sailing trips and transits, and educational programs including sailing trips to schools all along their routes. In large part, these programs are funded by scholarships from the Seaport and donations from the public, and it's really a worthy cause to support. If you live in a coastal area, there just may be tallships near you, too; if you're intrigued, search for them on the interwebz! (Apparently there's a huge one in the San Francisco Bay Area; several members of the Chieftain's crew appeared to be having mental orgasms just thinking about it.) It's an amazing experience. And it'll make you feel closer to Paul Bettany.
I will tell you, from my now-vast stores of experience, the problem with going for a joyride on a beautiful tall ship: it's really difficult to talk yourself out of laying down the shackles of your humdrum existence and picking up a peacoat, instead. Volunteering on these ships can be as easy as stepping aboard and sailing away, and even for someone like me -- afraid of the ocean, prone to motion sickness, and not really known for an adventurous spirit -- it's hard to resist the whispering of the open sea and the snap of wind in the sails.
Damn you, Paul Bettany. You're side-tracking me again, as so often happens when I think about you and your glorious cranium. I came here to talk about ships, which is where I started with the whole Master & Commander thing. So you know those amazing tallships that you see in these "age of sail" sort of films like Pirates of the Caribbean and Horatio Hornblower? Did you know that in many seaports around the globe, you can find these same sorts of ships still sailing? The ones I'm familiar with are replicas, but supposedly there are some originals still floating about, too. That's the word on the street.
If you're me, this is very exciting. If you're me, that means that you could actually climb aboard one of those ships and manfully restrain yourself from making Hornblower references. If you're me, it means that you can finally find fellowship among other people who know sea shanties by heart.
Which is exactly what I did when the Historic Seaport's lovely little topsail ketch, The Hawaiian Chieftain, stopped in Humboldt Bay.
I don't really have any terribly witty and amusing anecdotes to share with you, I'm afraid. I had an excellent time, though it was incredibly, bitterly cold out on the water. The crew, most of whom are volunteers and who joined the crew in much the same way that one might run away and join the circus, were absolutely fantastic and had delightful stories to tell. (I won't even mention their period garb, but suffice it to say that they looked quite dashing.) I was afraid I'd get horribly seasick, but I didn't at all (though on the open sea, I must say, there probably would've been a different outcome). We were out on the Bay for three hours, but it seemed like much less.
The rope-handling skills! The hats! The peacoats! The mast-scaling skills! I tell you, I was this close to attempting to start a spontaneous rendition of "Barrett's Privateers." And they probably would've known the words, too.
OOOOOH THE YEAR WAS 1778 -- HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOOOOOOOOW!
Sorry. I got carried away. That happens with these things. We did sing a few sea shanties and sailor songs together though, and I tried not to be too proud about actually knowing the refrain to "Wild Rover." (I have much to thank you for, Great Big Sea.)
Unfortunately, the Hawaiian Chieftain was sailing solo this trip, as her sister ship the Lady Washington -- which was one of the stars of Pirates of the Caribbean -- is in port to have a new mast, new engine and other updates fitted to help bring her up to California emission standards. (I know. Emissions! On a tallship! But they sort of need an engine these days so they can keep to their schedule and maneuver in busy ports.) Next time they come around though, I'm hoping to embark upon a Battle Sail, which is as bad-ass as its name implies.
This fine gentleman is named Andrew. Captain Andrew. He was kind enough to help me strategize vantage points where I might be able to get some shots of the ship from shore when they set out for another sail the next day. (I ended up running late and suffering foul weather, so unfortunately I didn't get the shots, but I don't even know if they bothered with the trip anyway. I don't know that I'd want to sail in that sort of miserable weather with a group of little kids.) Then I ran into him at the bookstore and gave him a ride further into town where he needed to run an errand. I must be growing as a person, because shy-me would never have talked to the captain of a beautiful, beautiful boat. Shy-me definitely would not have offered a stranger a ride anywhere. I believe shy-me has been dashed upon the rocks of MY NEW AWESOME and swept away to sea, and I can't say that I mind. Andrew and the rest of his crew are awesome people and I'm delighted to have spent a few hours in their company. Their salty, seafaring, bearded company.
More photos from my 3-hour tour (A 3-HOUR TOOOOOUR!) can be found here, with an additional set here. The latter group are photos I took for my fellow trip-goers of their awesomeness in action; one young man helped the captain pilot the ship, and several other adventurous souls paid an additional donation to the Historical Seaport's programs and got to scale the aft mast. (I have no idea what technical terms I am using. I am making them up as I go along. They climbed up some ropes and onto a crow's-nest thingy and it looked both incredible and terrifying. I think I'll do it next time.) I helped haul away ropes a few times and it made me feel both useful and powerful. And, strangely, like I needed to grow a beard.
The Historical Seaport is based in Washington State and does tours all up and down the west coast, more or less year-round. They are essentially a living history program, and trust me when I say that they make learning awesome. They offer free tours of the ship to the public, all sorts of paid sailing trips and transits, and educational programs including sailing trips to schools all along their routes. In large part, these programs are funded by scholarships from the Seaport and donations from the public, and it's really a worthy cause to support. If you live in a coastal area, there just may be tallships near you, too; if you're intrigued, search for them on the interwebz! (Apparently there's a huge one in the San Francisco Bay Area; several members of the Chieftain's crew appeared to be having mental orgasms just thinking about it.) It's an amazing experience. And it'll make you feel closer to Paul Bettany.
I will tell you, from my now-vast stores of experience, the problem with going for a joyride on a beautiful tall ship: it's really difficult to talk yourself out of laying down the shackles of your humdrum existence and picking up a peacoat, instead. Volunteering on these ships can be as easy as stepping aboard and sailing away, and even for someone like me -- afraid of the ocean, prone to motion sickness, and not really known for an adventurous spirit -- it's hard to resist the whispering of the open sea and the snap of wind in the sails.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 08:18 pm (UTC)In conclusion: <3333 tall ships!
no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 08:30 pm (UTC)Also, if you sailed with the Chieftain, you'd have your very own billet and enjoy the skills of a cook named (waaaaait for it).... Knuckles. And believe me, what he was cooking? I wanted a lot of.
I quizzed several of the crew about it (and indulged a few wistful daydreams) and it seems pretty relaxed about coming and going... you sign on and stay as long as you like, and then you get off somewhere. :D It sounded like a ridiculous amount of fun. One of the girls was telling me that she had a gap year between high school and college and had just sort of decided to spend it sailing on a tallship, and I thought... you know, her friends are back home bitching about their classes or playing PS3 all year until school starts or whatever, and she's out here sailing on a gorgeous ship and seeing the whole west coast of the US! That's got to be an experience to remember. I wish I'd known myself well enough (and been go-getting and outgoing enough) to have done something like this when I was younger and less saddled by debt and responsibility.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 08:36 pm (UTC)Ships vary a lot in terms of how relaxed they are and what they want in the way of experience! I really want to sail on the Lynx someday, and that's pretty competitive, I think (they go to Hawaii and back every summer, in period dress, and it's a small ship).
But, sigh, debt and responsibility.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 08:57 pm (UTC)A bunch of the crew members I spoke to said they were afraid of heights when they started, but now it's just something they do without really thinking about it. I'm not big on heights either, but I think I'd manage... you're clipped in with a safety harness the whole way, which for me makes the whole thing much more comfortable. I think I will go for climbing the mast next time I do one of these sails, just to see if I can. ;D
This is one of those things that makes me really mad about the debt I'm in... if I didn't have it, I could get by on practically nothing, but I have all these payments to make for things that do me little good, anyway. :( It's a weight I'd love to shuck off. Let's win the lottery!
no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 09:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 08:24 pm (UTC)I've been out briefly on the Lady Washington, she's amazing. I know a guy who crewed on her for a while, and ooh, yeah. It's so, so tempting. It's so tempting it's totally one of my backup life plans. :D
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Date: 2010-03-18 08:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 08:37 pm (UTC)Meclazine FTW.
I am super-prone to seasickness--I only got over my seasickness for reals about two weeks in, but Meclazine made it possible for me to sail anyway.
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Date: 2010-03-18 08:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 09:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 08:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 08:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 09:21 pm (UTC)That sounds awesome, and the pictures are gorgeousness. :)
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Date: 2010-03-18 11:34 pm (UTC)It was loads of fun; I can't wait to bring you photos of next year's sail. :D
no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 10:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 11:33 pm (UTC)Personally, I think the bloom has gone off the rose with the circus thing since I've learned more about it. Turn of the century circus, I'd have done it in a hot minute. (Is it totally wrong that I think it would be awesome to live in the world of Carnivale?) Modern circus? Not so much. I actually saw a really fascinating documentary called Carny, and between that and attending my local fairs, I'm forced to conclude that it's sort of like living in a trailer park, only one that travels and has a ferris wheel. ;D It seems like there's a lot of freedom to it, but also just a lot of below-poverty living. Seems like a way to go nowhere in your life. I'd love to be told I'm wrong by somebody who's been there, though. I'm sure there's more to it than I'm seeing.
Now, become superhero and live in Hawaii? THAT sounds nice. ;D
no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 11:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 11:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-18 11:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 01:43 am (UTC)Ooh, lovely! I don't know if it's your cup of tea, but you might enjoy
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 05:17 pm (UTC)O.O
Date: 2010-03-19 04:15 am (UTC)Re: O.O
Date: 2010-03-19 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 01:21 pm (UTC)That would be the mizzen mast. :)
Awesome pictures, truly.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 05:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-19 07:50 pm (UTC)I really need to see about visiting the tall ships next time they (and I) are in Washington. ♥
no subject
Date: 2010-03-20 07:08 am (UTC)Or just sit and sort of stare into space and drool, which is what I usually end up doing.
This is so awesome, having people actually come and read my blog now! I'm not just talking to the walls anymore! There are people out there, and they share my love for Paul Bettany and the sea-faring life! IT IS AMAZING!