Thursday, June 5, 2008
Mercantile
Day 3: Fort Point, Stockton Springs to Gilkey Harbor, Islesboro
Ben McCanna
(page 1 of 3)
Wednesday, May 21, 2008My hands are blistered, raw, and splintered from handling the rough manila lines over the past two days. As I slowly awaken in my bunk, and my mind shifts from dreams to reality, my hands are my first point of conscious awareness. The sharp pain in my shoulder is a close second. My body feels abused; I feel like a tired old man. I get dressed and go directly for a cup of strong Mercantile coffee, blueberry pancakes, and sausage.
This morning we're anchored in a dead calm; the water around us is glasslike, the air is warm, and the sky is bright blue.
When it’s time to raise the sails, Andy and Matt give the same spiel from the previous days, but today Andy adds a new wrinkle.
"The louder you yell 'heave,' the harder you'll pull," he says.
Andy unfouls the jib sheet.
After we raise the anchor, the Mercantile scoots back into the Bay. Captain Ray is a little upset with yesterday's weather forecast; his whole plan hinged on it. NOAA had called for strong winds out of the north, which would have allowed us to run down the Bay toward Islesboro. Today, however, there’s a faint breeze blowing directly out of the south. Captain Ray tries a few tacks, but the lack of wind and the incoming tide conspire to keep us pretty much at the same parallel. Andy fires up the yawlboat and we motorsail southward toward West Penobscot Bay.
"It's flat as a fritter," says Captain Ray.
Today is the first time that Andy and Matt haven't been blitzing around the deck. In fact, they're nearly stationary. Their chores are complete, there's no need to trim the sails, so they quietly polish the ship's brass bell. Captain Ray turns the helm over to a passenger and joins Andy and Matt amidships. I suddenly understand why the crew likes Captain Ray so much: when he's not barking orders at them, he's actually pretty chummy. Andy, Matt, and Ray gossip about the schooner bum community in Camden — mostly and who's seeing whom. Andy compares the dating scene to a soap opera.
"We like to call it As the Anchor Drags," he says.
When the guys are done polishing the brass, Matt rings the bell for lunch. We're having ham, baked beans, and brown bread, and the weather is pleasant enough to eat on the deck.
Matt polishes the brass.
As we leave the lee of Islesboro and enter West Penobscot Bay, the wind picks up and storm clouds collect over the Camden Hills. Captain Ray saunters back to the quarterdeck and approaches the wheel.
"I'd better take over," he says.
"Aye."
The air temperature is dropping quickly, so I go below for my foul-weather jacket and winter hat. By the time I return, Andy has powered down the yawl boat and we're under sail again. The sudden return to silence is nice.
As the Bay narrows, the seas pile up and the Mercantile starts pounding into the waves. We're sailing close-hauled, and the ship is heeled way over. As we approach the mainland, Captain Ray gives the order to tack, and Andy and Matt rush to the forepeak to tend the jib.
Posted on Thursday, June 5, 2008 in Permalink
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Reader Comments:
For the past 2 years, we go to Maine to hike/camp. This year, I'm going to convince my BF that we need to take a windjammer vacation, instead. It just sounds more pleasant. :)