Last year I loaded my Kindle with a collection of books by English author Patrick O’Brian. It’s a series of about 20 volumes that span the Royal English Navy career of Captain Jack Aubrey and ship’s surgeon Stephen Maturin. Most folks would remember the movie “Master and Commander” starring Russell Crowe which was a bit of a mish-mash of several of the volumes. Great flick! Watched it several times, perhaps the most impressive viewing was at a Best Buy while shopping for a home entertainment system years ago. Battle scenes on a big screen and a blow your hair back sound system (remember those magazine ads for Klipsch stereo speakers?) made it feel as if we were there!
Anyway, we were in an anchorage somewhere up in the Sea of Cortez, just living our funny little life. I deposited myself in the hammock and commenced to reading the first volume of the series, and Isabel will tell you I was virtually useless for weeks until finishing the last book. I read so slowly you can see my lips moving. A great read, can’t recommend it enough. I think the author wrote the series back in the 60’s, but he apparently spent a lot of time in the British Navy historical archives and the books reflect the reality facing the sailors of that era. Inaccurate charts, inaccurate navigation, no auxillary propulsion, miserable living conditions - makes us look like a bunch of pansies in comparison. Watch that movie closely; the deck sailors aren’t even wearing shoes while climbing icy rigging in the violent Southern ocean. I’m pretty sure the daily grog rations were to keep them about half schnockered so they wouldn’t mind the pain.
Hey - we have a killer fruit cake courtesy of Behan Gifford. Somehow it soaked up more than half a bottle of rum in the making, and we all look forward to our daily ration!
A well designed sailboat has lots of places to get a grip and soft corners for when things don’t work out so well. JollyDogs is pretty small and it’s only one or two steps from one grip to the next, so we can hang on tight when conditions are rough. Isabel and I have crewed several large sailboats, superyachts in the 62’ to 93’ range, and the bigger they get, the more dangerous it is for the crew to move about below or above decks because of the distance between hand grips. Passages between Newport, Rhode Island and Antigua, or Bermuda to Split, Croatia have left me bruised and battered in comparison to what we’re experiencing on JollyDogs right now. Seas have moved from aft, almost dead on the stern, to the port forward quarter, and we’ve been pounding into them for about a day now. Yesterday after several hours of blasting along with full main and jib, we reduced sail area. Not because we were exceeding structural limits on the rig or sails, but simply because we were beating the crap out of ourselves and the hull.
We replaced the old stock trampolines during our refit last Winter. The original ones were a fairly wide weave material that wasn’t very porous, but felt good under your feet. Fine for coastal sailing or charter boats. The new ones are much much more porous webbing so that the sea can move through them without creating big structural loads. We stand on them when dealing with sail changes and rigging near the bow, so their integrity is absolutely critical to our safety. I’m certain that over the last 24 hours we would have blown the old tramps to bits, given the amount of water we’ve had on deck. It’s been a bit of a rodeo ride.
My mom died about three months ago, bless her everlasting soul. Towards the end she was very unsteady on her feet, and moved about her apartment either by using her walker, or by what my sister Lisa described as “hand walking”; moving from one grip to the next, always having at least one hand holding something to stabilize herself. That would be the three of us the last day or so, and it doesn’t look to let up anytime soon.
As various shipmates in the O’Brian series continually remind the very clumsy Dr. Stephen Maturin, “one hand for you, one for the barkey”.
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