The Slanted Deck

Wednesday 5/22/2013

 

To my surprise sleeping in a bunk on a boat tilted to one side is not uncomfortable. The bunks have leeboards to keep the sleeper from rolling off. I simply rest my back against the leeboard or the side of the ship and sleep as usual.

I’m in my berth waiting for the 3:30AM wakeup call for “A” Watch. The Pride of Baltimore is tilted @ 15 degrees to the port side of the boat. (Port - left, starboard - right.) We were finally under sail somewhere in the Atlantic, east of the mouth of Delaware Bay. “B” and “C” Watch had raised sail sometime before midnight.

However, standing on a sloping deck is not easy, at least not in that first morning’s

darkness under sail. The boat is rocking as well as tilting. I can easily stand or walk around on the roof of a house with a 25 degrees slope with no problem. But this Wednesday morning it’s dark and the deck is moving beneath my feet.

The other four members of “A” Watch are standing in a circle, unconcerned about the sloping deck. Jill Hughes, the First Mate, has formed our muster in a part of the deck where there is nothing to hold onto. Even Erin, the only other guest crew in our watch, has no problem standing with ease; she has sailed as guest crew before on tall sailing ships. Mid-muster I have to back away from the circle to a place where I can hold onto a part of the boat. A little embarrassing but it’s better than stumbling into someone, or worse, falling down.

Jill is explaining what is to be expected during our watch. I can’t hear all of what she is saying, except the most welcome part – not much is expected to happen in the next four hours. The wind is steady at @ 15 knots (@ 17 miles per hour) from the southwest. Our watch will continue to steer the POB2 due east for at least the next four hours. This means there should be no sail changes which means no hard heaving on the lines controlling the sails. The most work we’ll have to do is hose the wooden deck down to keep the wood moist. Moist wood swells and will keep it water tight.

The POB2 will maintain her easterly course even though a straight line from the mouth of the Delaware Bay to Nova Scotia, our first destination, runs southwest to the northeast, almost parallel to the direction of the wind. Jill explains that the POB2 does not sail well with the wind directly on her stern. With the wind directly behind, the boat will sail more slowly and there is also the chance of an accidental jibe. If the wind abruptly shifts and if the

person at the helm is not diligent, the wind could get behind the mainsail and slam the boom violently across the centerline of the boat. Such a situation could possibly be dangerous to life and/or limb, and it’s always hard on the sails and rigging.
So on this morning we are on the Atlantic. Neither the coast nor other boats are in sight. This is what I came for. Even though I’m a little worn out from the events of yesterday, I’m still thrilled to be here. The watch goes easy this morning, as expected. There is lots of time for gabbing with my watch-mates, and for just contemplating the ocean, and the sky. When the watch ends, we go below for breakfast; then I go to my bunk.

 

 

The Chesapeake and Delaware Canal

 

We leave Baltimore Harbor Tuesday morning after the Man Overboard Board drill. We will motor east to the Chesapeake Bay then northeast through the upper bay, into the C & D, down the Delaware Bay and finally into the much anticipated (by me) Atlantic. The Pride of Baltimore II is averaging about seven knots. (7 knots = @ 8 miles/hour.)

When “A” Watch musters at 3:45 this afternoon we’re in the northern part of the Chesapeake and soon motor into the Chesapeake & Delaware Canal. Visually the C & D is not particularly interesting except for passing ships and boats and for the cool bridges we pass under. The canal is a sea-level cut through the 14 mile-wide land mass separating the northern Chesapeake from the upper Delaware Bay. The sides of the canal are steep and mostly wooded/vegetated. There are no canal locks to go through. The C & D is a deep draft, sea level passage crossing the states of Delaware and Maryland and joining the Delaware River with the Upper Chesapeake Bay.

But it wasn’t always. European colonists as early as the mid-17^th century recognized the potential benefits of a canal between the two large bays on the eastern coast of the continent. A canal could connect the cities of Baltimore and Philadelphia with an inland water route. By the last part of the 18^th century serious discussions about the potential canal were ongoing; steps were taken to survey the best route and to secure financing for the canal. When it first opened in 1829 the C & D had four locks to lift boats up over the land then back down to sea level on the other side. It was much narrower and shallower than it is today. Teams of mules and horses towed freight and passenger barges, schooners and sloops through the canal.

Today, the C & D is used by pleasure craft and commercial shipping. It’s owned by the federal government and operated by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. And the POB2 motored through it on May 21^st, 2013 on her way to the Great Lakes.

Our passage through the canal was mostly uneventful – no sails to set or shift. Our only job is to steer the boat and check the bilges for unusual water levels and the readings on the engines for any indication of malfunction. And shooting the breeze, which we did very well.

 

Bonus PostScript

The C & D Canal today is an interstate highway compared to the country lane it was when it operated in the 19^th century. The POB2 would never have made it through the canal back then. Its keel would have struck the bottom of the canal while its masts would have been broken off by the bridge it had to pass under.

While I appreciate progress, I also lament the loss of some excellent thing to that progress. Our canal systems are no longer, now only artifacts of a bygone era. The C & D is a great ditch, but it’s only a ditch. (I don’t mean to denigrate it!) Ah life! So sweet, so sad. But always interesting.

--Bob Kerber

 

A Man-Overboard Drill

It’s Tuesday, May 21^st, 2013. The Pride of Baltimore II departs this morning for the Great Lakes.

Last night was difficult. My arms, shoulders and legs ached from keeping up with the rest of the crew, pulling of the heavy lines during the docking procedures. Heading for my bunk I wanted to knock myself out with a sleeping pill but was hesitant. I knew we were leaving Baltimore early, with the full crew muster scheduled for 6AM. I was afraid 5mg of Ambien would leave me too woozy in the morning so I took half and turned in.

This morning I’m woozy anyway. The Ambien wasn’t strong enough to quiet the noise in my muscles and has left me with a spaced-out feeling. But it’s “All hands on deck” anyway for our departure. There is more tugging on the dock lines to pull the POB2 away from her dock. We begin our journey with a long period of motoring up through the Chesapeake into the C & D canal so there won’t be any raising of sails until we get to open water in the Delaware Bay.

But we’re no more than a few minutes into the trip when Captain Trost pitches a life ring over the side of the boat and calls for a man-overboard (MOB) drill. The crew knows its responsibility and leaps to it. The regular crew’s job is to retrieve the “victim”. No easy task, this requires hoisting the motorized dinghy over the side of the boat.

Yesterday at the guest crew orientation it was explained to us that our responsibility in a MOB situation is to keep the victim in sight and to point with our arm towards the victim in order to help the captain and helmsman to keep the overboard sailor in sight. But I’m still partly asleep and in a befuddled state. Instead of doing my assigned non-strenuous job of pointing I jump in to help with the hoisting of the rescue boat, perhaps getting in the way more than helping. I am possibly confused by the seriousness by which the regular crew members are going about their assigned tasks and look to assist the crew where help is most needed.

It is not long before the overboard life ring is rescued and the excitement of the drill begins to subside. Our watch ends at 8AM, soon after the drill. The POB2 will be motoring all day through the upper Chesapeake and the C & D Canal. There should be no call for “All hands on deck” or even for the Stand-by Watch to help on deck. I go below.

Lying in my bunk, thinking about the proceedings, I wonder if the captain or any of the mates have noticed my not doing my assigned job during the drill. Or whether the regular crew thought I was in their way while hoisting the rescue tender. Needless to say I am embarrassed, and have needlessly taxed already sore muscles. After a quick breakfast I climb into my berth after downing 100 mg of Tramadol, an opioid pain medication I’ve been taking. I should have no duties until our 4PM watch and soon I’m asleep.

--Bob Kerber

 



 

The POB2 Watch System

 5/20/2013 Baltimore Harbor



It’s Monday evening and I’m in my bunk. We leave early in the morning, for the Atlantic! At our muster this morning the Chief (1^st) Mate, Jill, explained the watch system we will use during the trip. Every boat while underway needs sailors to stand watch.

While the POB2 is underway we will be on a three watch system. The crew is divided into thirds and each day will be divided into six – four hour segments. A Watch is assigned to “On” for two four-hour shifts each day; that means to be dressed and on deck, and ready to perform any tasks needed to run the boat. Another watch is required to be on “Standby”, that is able to be on deck quickly should they be needed to help with major sail changes or any other condition that requires extra crew on deck. The last watch is “Off” and probably in their bunks.

 I’m assigned to “A” Watch; we’re on watch from 4AM to 8AM and 4PM to 8PM, and off watch for each following four hours. The Chief Mate, Jill, is our watch leader. Jill has been working aboard tall ships since the end of high school, ten years earlier. She grew up sailing with her dad near Buffalo N.Y. and raced small sailboats during high school. A graduate in International Studies from Boston University, she’ll turn 27 later during our first week.

“A” Watch consists of Jill, the POB2’s Engineer, a deck hand and two guest crew. Seth Page, @25, from Vermont (maybe New Hampshire) is the Engineer; his duties as such are basically overseeing the boat’s mechanical systems. He learned many of his engineering skills from his father. Andrew Elmaleh, the deckhand is also @25. Andrew is from New Jersey and six or eight other place on the planet, a musician and a genuine entertainer. The other guest crew is Erin C, an architect from Hamilton (or maybe Kitchener), Ontario. All of A Watch except for myself are in their 20s. I’m 65 in 2013.

A watch usually begins with a muster 15 minutes before the watch actually begins. At the muster the leader reviews what can be expected during the next four hours. During the watch the leader assigns tasks as they become necessary.

The main task underway is steering the boat in the right direction and not running into anything, either above or below the water. Determining the right direction is the watch leader’s responsibility in consultation with the captain. On the POB2 there are paper and electronic charts showing shorelines, channels, water depths, etc. There is also radar which shows any nearby solid objects - boats, shoreline. There is and an electronic GPS system that shows the location of every commercial or any large (like the POB2) vessel in the vicinity. The steering of the boat is done by everyone on watch, usually in one hour increments.

The regular crew watches over the guest crew until we there was enough confidence in us. I didn’t resent being watched over by someone who could have been my grandkid. Really, I didn’t.

There were also times when the POB2 crew was on a “two watch” system. That was when the POB2 was at a dock, participating in a boat show, with half the crew on, and the other half off. The shows were the main purpose of the POB2’s trip to and through the Great Lakes. More on this later.





 

Part 3 - Fells Point, Baltimore Harbor – Monday, May 20th

Climbing into my berth on Sunday night there are a few things on my mind. As far as the POB2 herself, she is flat out beautiful, and I have no worries about her. But there are other thoughts bouncing around my head - the excitement of the trip, of being with new people, and a bit of disappointing news, two bits of it. First, the POB2 isn’t leaving the next day as planned. The boat is expecting the delivery of a cannon any day now. Tomorrow might just be the day. (It wasn’t.) And secondly, we won’t be sailing south down the Chesapeake like I assumed. We will motor north into the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal and out the Delaware Bay. Looking at a map, it makes more sense – the route is much shorter. But I wanted to see the Chesapeake.

Of all the things on my mind, my performance aboard the POB2 isn’t one of them. It should have been. My mind is going in too many directions; I take a sleeping pill, 5mg of Ambien. It might leave me a little drowsy in the morning but we don’t muster in the morning until after breakfast.

Monday morning is sunny. The breakfast is good, great really. Mark, the cook for the journey, has laid out a spread – eggs, bacon, hot oatmeal, pastries. Another good omen for the trip.

The muster goes well. Our captain, Jamie Trost, a native of Erie, PA, leads it and explains what is expected of the crew and guest crew. I feel a little intimidated by him. He is in his mid to late thirties, strong, fit, sure of himself. The opposite of me. But it’s OK. He seems competent enough, and that’s the only real thing a captain has to have.

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He turns the muster over to Jill Hughes, the Chief Mate. She’s originally from Buffalo, NY and also seems competent and confident. She explains the details of what will happen today. It’s a day of voyage preparation. For the regular crew this means mending this and checking that. She assigns different tasks for each regular crew. The Second Mate of the POB2 is Will McLean from Rocky Mount (or somewhere near there) North Carolina. He will direct the regular crew.

 For the guest crew (six of us) it will be a day of orientation: learning about the boat; about safety on the ocean; about what is expected of us. The orientation is led by the Bosun (an apprentice Mate), Meredith McKinnon, from Montreal (I think), Ontario, the only Canadian aboard. At orientation we learn about the boat, about safety at sea, about what is expected of us in different situations. Most of the orientation is routine, how the lifeboats work, how to put on our immersion suits, which side of the boat to walk on while it’s moving. And then at the end Meredith asks, “Does anyone want to go up the main mast, just to see what it’s like?” Most of the guest crew goes up, including, of course, me. I have to go up in a big, fat hurry to show everyone my capability and also my comfort in high places. I’m a former roofer/carpenter/painter after all.  

Guest Crew in Immersion Suits Which Can Keep You Warm and Afloat

When orientation is over and I’m in my cabin waiting for lunch to be ready. Afterwards Captain Trost wants to take on fuel so the POB2 can get an early start in the morning. The fuel dock is two minutes of motoring away but getting there requires maneuvering the 185+ton boat away from its berth. To push the bow away from the dock requires the crew heaving 2” dock lines at the stern to pull it towards the dock which pushes the bow out into the harbor. (Yeah, let me jump in with these 20-year old kids and pull as hard as they do.) And I do. The procedure at the fuel dock requires heaving on both bow and stern dock lines. Then we repeat the procedure and return to our slip. By the time the heaving is over, I’ve had it.

 --Bob Kerber

Going Aboard the Pride of Baltimore II

 Sunday night May 19^th,  2013,I am anxious to go aboard the POB2 for my trip from Baltimore into the Atlantic, through the St. Lawrence River system and Lake Ontario and finally into Lake Erie, ending at Cleveland.  There are a number of reasons why this trip has happened – here are the important ones.

First is the boat itself. Launched in 1988, she is a beauty. The POB2 is a modern reproduction of a two-mast Baltimore Topsail Schooner from @ 200 years ago. The length of the hull is 109' with total length @ 145’. The main mast 107‘ above the waterline; she is 26’ wide and weighs @ 185 tons. In May, 2013 she’s berthed at Fells Point in Baltimore Harbor. Obviously well-maintained, she’s all wood, with ropes and canvas, chains and cables, some glass, metal connectors and two large, iron anchors. The wood is varnished and shining. Everything seems organized and orderly.

Secondly, I love the ocean - always have since first swimming in it in 1970.  The power of the surf, the way a wave can carry you towards and onto the shore.  Then, after a long day at the beach, falling into an exhausted sleep still feeling the push and pull of the water.  During the following decades I always find ways to get back, even though unfortunately for this, I am a southeastern Ohio boy and it’s always a long journey back to the ocean. But more than a just a beach, I want the real deal.  I want to see what the Atlantic is (and was) like, way out where there is no land and a boat rises and falls with the swells.

And then there's Mary Ann, my wife and muse. She dinghy-sailed Barnegat Bay, the inter-coastal waters of New Jersey, in her youth.  As a 1970’s wanderer she bummed around Florida and the Bahamas on various sailboats.  Intrigued by her stories, in 1990 I bought a Sunfish type boat.  The first time I was alone on the boat when the wind caught the sail and the water gurgled along the hull as she accelerated, I felt magic and was hooked.  Not kidding here – I don’t know how magic works, but I felt it.

There is love and magic driving me offshore and then there is my health. I grew up with the Midwestern/1950s/male attitude about pain and health – “Pah!, just ignore it.  It’ll go away.”  It always did, until a diagnosis of Fibromyalgia came my way in the late 1980s. For the first half of the 1990s it is relatively easy to ignore it, not missing much work, my annual winter ski trip or the grunt work on our 22 acres with house and barn. 
 

 But by 1996 I’m struggling. I take a leave of absence from my engineering work.  In 1997 I quit work and start my own consulting business. This allows me to work my own hours, being the only employee.  By 1998 there are no break from the pain which brings on fatigue and mental fogginess which brings on depression.  Muddling through the first decade of the new millennia, my work suffers and Mary Ann has to do more and more of the farm work, either alone or with a hired teenager. The kitchen feels like the last realm of self-respect.  I take over almost all of the cooking and cleaning there. For some reason I can do kitchen work even when tired, cranky and in pain.

By 2013 I am 65 years old and I realize that being bed-bound and house-bound is in my future if something doesn’t change. My life could end this way, as an invalid - for that is how I am starting to see myself. So if I have to do something that will challenge myself, why not do something really exciting like going on a six-week sailing trip? How could this not work out well?

--Bob Kerber

Meeting the Pride of Baltimore II

May 19^th, 2013

 

A look at a map showing Athens County of Southeast Ohio can leave a sailor a little blue. Lake Erie is four hours to the north. The Chesapeake Bay is many hours to the east. The largest body of water close to home is the Ohio River, which has the possibility of a tug with a long string of coal barges around any bend in the river.  Its many bordering hills and direction changes makes for fluky winds. I owned a Catalina 25 and sailed on the Ohio River for two seasons and on Lake Erie for one. here are worse places for a sailor to live, but not many.

     After many day dreams and night dreams of sailing somewhere, anywhere, I decide to do something, do anything to get onto a boat sailing in some interesting body of water. In the winter of 2013, newly retired, I was snooping around the internet for sailing possibilities.

      Google searching for ways to go out onto the ocean, Landing on the Pride of Baltimore II website after a couple of dead ends, I find an ad for a 46-day trip aboard a 145’ long Baltimore Topsail Schooner from Baltimore to Cleveland via the St. Lawrence River all for a decent price! “Holy crap!  I can do this!” This would be the jolt to my life that was long needed.  Calling right away I find out that there is still space available and the only things required are the money, a doctor’s release since I was over 65, and passing muster in an interview with the captain.

     I also had to pass muster with Mary Ann.  Almost right away she says “Go for it”!  This is shortly after she said “You’ll never make it.” But this just makes me more determined.  

     Sunday May 19^th, Will (my oldest son) drives me to Baltimore Harbor from his home in central PA. I had stopped in Lewisburg to see him and his family before beginning this journey.  I had asked him to drive me to Baltimore because he loves sailing and I knew he’d like to tour a 145’ sailing vessel.

     My first view of the POB2 is of her mast and spars and rigging.  I’m impressed and intimidated, also nervous – a new situation, new people to meet, and (my biggest worry) can I do what I signed up for.  My voyage with the POB2 is not going to be a joy-ride. I’m sailing as a guest/deckhand.  Guests will be expected (but aren’t required) to work.

     Being a deckhand (guest or not) will be a challenge; I’m carrying some unfriendly baggage on board.  For the past 20 or so years I have been dealing with a condition the doctors call fibromyalgia but which is essentially chronic pain and fatigue, accompanied by depression, insomnia and mental fogginess.  It’s relentless.  Long before May 2013 I had learned that to have any type of a life, I am going to have to push past many things to achieve it.

     And here I am, on a dock in Baltimore harbor, looking at the POB2, ready to go aboard. We do go aboard, stash my gear and meet some of the other crew. There are new things to see, even a cannon, which I hope is real.  Will is jealous.  I would love for him to go with me.  But he drives home.

--Bob Kerber