Monday, June 16, 2008
Mary Day
Day 1: Camden to Hells Half Acre, Stonington
Day 1: Camden to Hells Half Acre, Stonington
Ben McCanna
(page 1 of 5)
A curious thing happens after you've been tested at sea. If the high winds, rough seas, and blinding white light of a near-death experience haven't permanently drained the pallor from your skin, turned your hair stark white, and stolen the twinkle from your eyes, then you'll probably turn into a cocky, seafaring bastard.And so it was that I parked my car on a sunny Saturday, slung my dry bag over my shoulder, and sauntered coolly across Camden's Harbor Park toward the Mary Day. A mere three days had passed since I'd last struggled against wind and sea, since I'd last heaved a line with all my might, since I'd nearly lost my symmetrical features to the Mercantile's swinging boom, but I was already eager to return to "the shit"—as the schooner bums say.
When I tossed my dry bag over the rail and clambered onto the deck of the Mary Day, however, I immediately realized this would be a wholly different seagoing experience.
For starters, the Mary Day was built for comfort.
Most windjammers are turn-of-the-century working boats; vessels that freighted granite, fish, or lumber, but had long since been reapportioned for the passenger trade. The Mary Day, on the other hand, was built with passengers in mind.
| Mary Day | |
|---|---|
| Captain: | Barry King |
| Built: | 1962 |
| Length: | 90' |
| Capacity: | 28 passengers and 5 crew |
The Mary Day at sail.
The Mary Day was the first windjammer built specifically for the passenger trade. She was built in Maine.www.schoonermaryday.com
This extra space affords a fair number of relative luxuries, the most striking of which are chairs. (Let me say that again.) Chairs! In an industry that by and large asks its patrons to sit atop cabin houses and keep a stiff upper lip in the face of lackluster lumbar support, the advent of deck chairs aboard the Mary Day is patently decadent.
The second most striking example is the Mary Day's cabins. Not long after I dragged my lumbering frame onto the deck, the Mary Day's mate, Sara Andreatta—a North Carolinian whose frequent and defiant use of "y'all" at 44oN makes her instantly likeable—carried my luggage down the steep companionway ladder and led me into my quarters for a brief tour. (There was standing room for both of us—another tall-ship rarity).
"This is your window. This is your skylight. This is your reading light. And this is a duct that channels hot air from a woodstove into your room," Andrea said.
Xanadu.
The third most striking aspect of the Mary Day is her general appearance. Most tall ships are imbued with an age-old patina of salt and grit—a degree of wabi sabi that no amount of sandpaper or fussiness could ever make fair — yet the Mary Day was positively gleaming. This impeccability might be largely due to the Mary Day's relative youthfulness, but the remainder is undoubtedly the work of her owner, the fastidious Captain Barry King.
At first glance, fastidious is a bizarre choice of adjectives. Captain Barry has the most brambly, gravity-defying beard outside of New York's Upper West Side. If you were to indulgently describe this beard to a composite sketch artist, you might be handed a charcoal-on-paper rendering of the Wookie Chewbacca. It is an awesome, awesome beard.
But like any true master of his craft—whether it be Albert Einstein, John Lennon, or post-election Al Gore—you can't judge a thinking man on kempt. Plus, it's all part of Captain Barry's central paradox — the yin and yang qualities that make Barry who he is. (I'll come back to this.)
Posted on Monday, June 16, 2008 in Permalink
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Reader Comments:
Xanadu - perfect; will Kublai Khan pull stroke oar, at least to the mouth of the Alph? Keep it up!
Jefe
Hi Ben,
"Patsy Cline" here. Just wanted to say thanks for the memories and great blog. This morning, someone from my gym passed along her June issue of Down East (hardcopy) to me, and there you were on page 5! Reminded me to check out our trip and relive those 4 wonderful days again.
Like my Uncle Bob (who sent Becky her rock), I grabbed and saved a particularly ergonomic piece of that Merchants Row granite. I've been captivated by the spell of Penobscott Bay, so when I return, I'll definitely have my excellent lobster-crushing rock in tow.
Hope to see you someday again on a schooner in Maine, and again, thanks for helping relive that special place!
Barbara the Wino
I just spent six days and nights on the Stephen Taber, so it's good to read about the Mary Day, which we saw several times during the week, along with the Victory Chimes, the Heritage, and other sailing vessels. The 1871-vintage Taber is more authentic -- heated cabins, are you kidding? -- but I can appreciate that not everyone wants a week in a boat that was built to haul coal and lumber with a crew of three hardy Penobscot sailors used to the privations of weather and sea. My take is that the Taber was the funnest camping trip I've ever been on, and I'd sail on her again in a heartbeat. And even better, each time we went ashore, the Taber's owner and master, Captain Noah Barnes, would tell us -- "If you get into trouble, say you're from the _Mary Day_!". (I kept my nose clean, thanks very much!) -- Tom R., Dedham, Massachusetts.