First schooner trip - day 2
My first night shift was the 2:00 am to 6:00 am shift. It was very hard to stay awake. It was also very cold. The weather was in the mid fifties, but with wind and the body wanting to sleep, there weren’t enough layers. I was dressed like it was winter, and was just comfortable.
I had sailed sloops, but sailing a schooner of this size was totally overwhelming.
There were so many lines that went high into the rigging to places unknown that you could not keep track of them. Four lines would all go high and you had to look closely to see which block directed the line you held and what it did. Most of the time I was lost and waiting for direction.
One of the icons on a schooner is the “pin”. The pin is the large version of a cleat. Once a line is made on the pin, it can handle very high loads. These loads are transferred directly to the pin rail. One lesson I learned early on was to wind it correctly. It is important that whoever needs to handle the line next knows exactly how to unwind it, and control the line with the last wrap or two. These simple pins are still one of my favorite iconic memories of sailing a schooner. Twisted line on a pin. That’s when you know you are on a real ship.
Since the 6 hour sleep shift started at noon, I was not sleepy right away. So I took some time to play some cards before hitting the rack. I became friends with every member of the crew, but remember the moment when I knew the second mate and I would become good friends. We were chatting about something, and out of the blue he said “When we get back, you ARE coming to dinner.” Statement. Fact. True.
I realized the same sense aboard this boat as I’d had aboard the sloops I’d raced on and the sailors I met cruising. Sailors come from wildly different backgrounds, and may appear to be much different to the outsider. But, when sailing, you feel a common bond that you can’t describe. It is just felt.
When I racked out, it didn’t take long to doze off. The boats propeller turns when making good time, around six or eight knots. The steady hum and the boat gently rising and falling with the waves. I wish I could capture it in a rocking bed.
- the MuseTags: Highlander
