A great adventure.... and after being 20 days before the mast, I have one significant conclusion: If you can, be the captain!
My Lake Superior image gallery will appear shortly on www.bumboat.com
Follow the voyages and travels of the bumboat captain with his family and friends. Also check out the Bumboat website at www.bumboat.com
A great adventure.... and after being 20 days before the mast, I have one significant conclusion: If you can, be the captain!
My Lake Superior image gallery will appear shortly on www.bumboat.com
I must release the Captain to restore order aboard. I have underestimated the responsibilities and skills required to maintain life at sea. If left to my own resources, my survival is questionable.
Captain, please forgive my selfish actions. I am prepared to accept the punishment I am due.
The Captain is all about routine. This afternoon he fired up his "passage cigar" and I could take it no longer. For the last 18 days, I've sucked in the second hand smoke of 18 passage and 17 after dinner stoogies. These stoogies are huge and burn for at least an hour. There is no escape from the nausiating fumes. I won't even go into all the other daily routines...
I can now take endless showers, shit on demand, and shout out my own commands. Sail on!!!
As we set to sea today a high NW wind warning for Superior was posted. Our course took us over hundreds of wrecks of less fortunate sailors. The Captain executed a perfect gibe off Whitefish Point, leaving the towering seas and the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald in our wake.
In celebration of not being another wreck on Gitche Gumee's most dangerous shore... The crew hereby declares Captain Kip an Admiral.
When ship's business and the needs of the Captain are met, I am able to spend time in the spartan crew quarters. Notice my assigned crew ID number, which also was tattood on my forearm upon initial boarding of Royal Eagle. My ID is a constant reminder of the ship's social political hierarchy. At night, exactly on the hour, I abruptly awake and recite "Sir, 1023395, ready and able to serve".
The only rule the Captain conveyed upon boarding was regarding the head: "Don't shit in the manual head in the crew's cabin. It's macerator can be a problem". Since it was improper for the crew to use the Captain's head and the availibility of shore facilities may not coincide with natural movements, I needed a plan..... I actively monitored my consumption of fluids and ruffage to keep things soft.
The first 12 days went smoooothly. However, in Houghton we treated ourselves to pizza.... with lots of cheese. The next day, with no available comfort stations, constipation set in and so did anxiety on head failure.....
Fortunately, everything worked... and I'm back to increasing my ruffage levels...
Tonight was laundry night. The Captain has done laundry twice since I've been aboard..... and me none.... perhaps because my hi-tech clothes are more durable than the Captain's finest cottons... and my backpacking experience resulted in almost daily washing of underware and socks in my sink (water conservation violation). I guess the sheets and towels did need washed.
The task much tougher than the laundry is getting the sheets back on the bunk. The bedding on Royal Eagle is custom made with the top and bottom sheets sewn together creating a body capsule. Sorting out all the flaps and getting it oriented right on the bunk requires an education level much higher than mine.
I now have enough clean garments to last me at least another 20 days before the mast.
After a long day at sea today, the crew had to attend to ship's business; registering us with the dockmaster, filling water tanks, offloading garbage, and swabbing the deck. I was surprised to hear that I was the first to clean the decks this voyage... which made me wonder about the diligence of the crews before me.
The Captain appears to have a technology problem and is well behind in his log updates. In absence of the official ship's log, I can offer the following summary; great weather, great scenery, great people, and exceptional cuisine prepared by my Captain. I just wish we sailed more.
My Captain appears totally unaware of the technology I carry in my pocket. If he did, it surely would be confiscated.
The ship's clock has finished the midnight serenade... so it's bedtime....
Since this was our first anchorage, the Captain took me to the bow for an anchoring tutoral. Shortly after returning to the helm, he issued the command to drop anchor. I released the windlass and the familiar sound of rumbling chain confirmed the anchor was on its way to the bottom. My unfamiliarity with this ship's anchoring apparatus caused me to briefly remove my hand from the winch lever. It took only a moment for the lever to launch out of the winch into the depths of the anchor locker. Without the ability to provide friction, the chain accelerated rapidly creating an uncontrolled release of chain. I instinctively jumped into the locker to retrieve the lever. The confines of the locker made retrieval impossible, so a quick stomp on the chain stopped the release a few links shy of an empty locker.
My predicament of keeping the chain secure while somehow retrieving the windlass lever from the bottom of the locker was solved when the shadow of the captain was cast upon me. Captain Kip firmly placed his foot on the chain allowing me to re-enter head first to retrieve the lever and brake the windlass.
After the Captain was sure the bow escapades were over, he returned to the helm and set the anchor. I returned to a silent cockpit and a disappointed Captain.
Every God Damn hour it strikes the number of bells for the hour. "Cling Clank, Cling Clank, Cling......" at a volume sufficient to wake up any soul within 5 boat lengths. To further aggrevate me, it even strikes once on the half hour.
It is impossible to fall asleep anytime before the midnight cresendo. After 5 nights of clanging, I've developed a slight immunity allowing me fitfull rest until 4 AM... a noise threshold I'm not yet able to overcome. My Captain wisely uses his ability to snore loudly to mask the clanging and sleep deep into the morning.
Ahhh... it's time to turn in.... 4 AM comes quick....
The 35 NM passage to Madeline Island was pleasant and uneventful. The Captain does an excellent job detailing the ship's business on his blog.... so I will refrain from those important details.
In an effort to conserve water and ensure no interruption of our water supply, I have not showered in 2 days. Topping the tanks in Madeline should reinstate daily hygene.
Not much in Black River except hiking trails and native forests. I laced up my boots and hiked for 3 hours to two waterfalls and a not-so-scenic ridge. My captain and the couple from Red Sky (who we met in Ontonagon) joined me for the first hour before returning for naps.
The Captain whipped up some refreshing Pina Coladas and a gourmet spaghetti dinner for the four of us. While cleaning up the substantial mess, he informed me to cut back on water usage and conserve valuable vessel resources. My transition from a 54 ft vessel has been a bit bumpy.
Our departure coincided with the first opening of the lift bridge (second heaviest in US) at 9 AM. Our 49 NM trip to Ontonagon was pleasant in calm seas and temps in the 60s. We motorsailed the entire way into a 10 kt wind off the starboard bow. Gitche Gumee was well behaved today.
The Captain did a great job barging into the lives of two other boats which arrived with us. We had a great steak and potatoe dinner with Elaine, Joe, Stan, and Linda aboard S/V Red Sky. We should see them again at Madelain Island later this week.
Tomorrow we set sail for some wilderness, Black River Harbor. The harbor has no facilities, but lots of hiking and fishing.... and we may get weathered in....
The Captain was in good spirits and appeared excited to have new crew to train. After a short ship orientation, Captain Kip masterfully cooked up a tasty tuna cassarole, with peas on the side. My first duty as crew was dishes.
My experiences before the mast will be updated as cell coverage permits. Most of my communications will be from my cell phone utilizing my thumbs and its marginal camera. So... bear with with any rogue keystrokes and images not up to my usual standards... Keeping this activity stealth is impairitive to avoid confiscation of crew property.