First schooner trip - day 3
We arrived at the island today. The boat has so much mystique. All that wood. The size. The presence. The history. Everyone on Mackinac Island knew we landed. There was a crowd gathered on the dock to watch us land. I had dreamt of sailing tall ships as a youth, and now I was living the dream.
I became aware of how much this fascinated others when I was walking downtown in jeans and a flannel shirt. Perhaps it was my pony tail, but a gentleman stepped up to me and said “Aren’t you a sailor on the Highlander Sea?” I nodded, a bit surprised that anyone would notice this far from the ship. We proceeded to talk for 20 minutes or so about what it was like. It was like being a rock star. They couldn’t imagine what it was like, how we handled the physical demands, avoided sea sickness, etc. I didn’t know how I could handle the physical demands (of course when I couldn’t, the paid crew would be there).
The pace of sailing suits me. Bursts of strength, with long long periods of moderate effort in between. Very little total rest when on deck. Standing burns energy. The cold burns energy. The boat is always moving. It is draining, but it is mostly mental. I can do it for hours, and after a good nights sleep I feel revitalized. The smell of the water, the feel of the breeze. That’s living.
Padding into a local drink establishment, I come upon three members of the crew. I used to think musicians drank. Musicians are beginners compared to schooner sailors. They never drink before duty, but when off duty musician’s aren’t even in the same league. While I was having a glass of wine, the barkeep said “OK, after this, it’s on you.” Which is when we all learned that since the barkeep recognized all of us as being from the schooner, any drinks to that point were on the house. At which point the other crew realized the dollars in their pocket would go much further than they had planned on. The next day would be a rough one for them.
I walked up tot he French Quarters for a milder crowd. I nursed another glass of wine for about a half hour when a fellow moved over beside me and asked if I minded some conversation. I shook my head. He said “You just radiate peace.” The boat had worked its magic. Three days of sailing, and all is fine with the world. Complete calm and peace. So much so that strangers could sense it.
- the MuseTags: Highlander
