Sweating and the Importance of Deodorant: life aboard the Corwith Cramer

The Caribbean in winter is, shall we say, a touch on the muggy side and destinations around 17d lat tend to be a bit humid, sunny and...buggy. Though we Latinos are a tropical people, after living in a seasonal environment for 28 years, this 1/2 Latina lost the ability to sweat pretty. You can imagine what transpired (or perspired in this case) on a ship with 34 souls in the middle of the Caribbean Sea without air conditioning and shower limitations to every THREE days. I bet those downwind could smell us a nautical mile away.

This is what I left: Winter in Woods Hole

and arrived in: Winter in the Caribbean. Samana, DR

I spent my first day on the Cramer learning about the ship from her sails and lines to cleaning almost every imaginable surface, for the most part, under the intense sun and boiling humidity. Though I experienced intense sweating incontinence, I remained cheerily positive and eager to learn about the things that would keep me alive as we traversed the Caribbean Sea.

Cramer under full sail. Photo credit: SEA 

Part of the experience involved sail handling, so I busied myself with learning her major sails:
4 lower, Marconi rigged: Forestaysail (stay'sl), Main Staysail (main'sl), Main Sail (the main)
Headsails, tri-sails (tri'sl): Jib, Jib Top Sail (JT), Raffee
Square Sails (square'sl): Course and Top Sail (top'sl)
Fisherman's staysail, trapezoidal in shape: Fisherman or Fish

Students creating a balatine coil for the JT halyard. You can see the main (sail) in the background.

I also had to learn zillions of lines in order to set, strike, jib (or gybe), heave-to, tack and furl.
Halyard (to pull the sail up)
Downhaul (to pull the sail down)
Sheets and travelers (port & starboard), to move the sails to either port or starboard
In-Hauls and Out-Hauls, pull the clew of the squares'ls
Brails: haul in the corners of the tops'l and course
Preventer (for the main): to prevent violent beam movement
Jiggers: to trim sails
Braces (for the square'sls): for trim and course direction
There are more lines, but you get the picture. For example, the marconi sails each have 1 halyard, 1 downhaul, two sheets and one jigger, unless it's the Main which, in addition to the listed lines, has a preventer and two other lines, of which I forget. Some sail even have TWO halyards! There are a lot of lines to learn and it can be overwhelming at first...especially on a moonless night in the middle of a squall.
Equally important to learn: there are also a million ways to coil line.

If I remember correctly, these are the Tops'l in-hauls and out-hauls.

I learned to 'sweat' lines, which, initially, I thought was ship humor because it was so freaking hot and we were ALL PROFUSELY SWEATING. Imagine my embarrassment when the call to 'sweat a line' was given and I rubbed my sweaty hands on it grinning like the idiot. Never a dull moment with me; loads of entertainment for the crew.

part of the HEAVE team for the fish throat halyard

To 'sweat a line' means pull, with as many people as you can and as hard as you can, to get a sail up as far as it will go. This involves pushing the line forward then backward and down as hard as you can. One other person takes up the slack by pulling the line horizontally from its pin. This process is repeated numerous times (if it makes your hands bleed, you're doing it right) before making fast the line (lopping it around its pin).

Sweating the fisherman throat halyard. Notice the number of hands on the line.

Actually, sweating is pretty fun, because you get to yell "TWO....SIX...HEAVE!" as loud and as you can. "TWO" is yelled as you push the line forward, followed by "SIX" as you pull down (and I mean your entire body nearly hits the deck). "HEAVE" is then yelled by your line counterpart as they take up slack as you help guide the line toward the pin. It's all very fun, trust me! Thanks to 14 years of competitive swimming, I am an excellent line-sweater.

The Main, un-reefed. It takes a lot of sweaty students to haul her lines.

It took 48 hours and 6 watch-standings for my hands to callus and strengthen, and another 48 hours before my forearms were as strong as steel. Intimidating at first and sometimes frustrating, the myriad of lines and sails and knots and coil knowledge became routine and led to really, really fun things. I'm convinced that, as long as there's enough deodorant, anything is possible!

Next up: Watch routine and life aboard the Cramer.

Cramer Voyage Pt 2: Back in St. Croix

In the summer of 1990, my family vacationed in St. Croix. We stayed at Colony Cove Resort in Christiansted and spent our days touring the island and snorkeling at Buck Island and around a barrier reef about a 1/4 mile swim from our hotel.

Hurricane Hugo decimated the island in 1989, about 15 months before our vacation. Wave action eroded many beaches; the entire elkhorn coral ecosystem at Buck Island was nearly destroyed; hotels, houses, boats and buildings were blown away, and roads disappeared. To resuscitate the USVI's economy via  tourism, the travel industry offered package vacation deals (steals, really) in St. Thomas, St. Croix and St. John. Our vacation was part of the economic rebuilding effort.

Homes along Gallows Bay...notice some are still in ruins

I remember having mixed feelings about the island. Hugo's raging violence damaged the local barrier reef and  and eroded the stretch of beach in front of our hotel. The Army Core of Engineers replaced the beach by dredging tons of offshore sand (probably to restore the shipping channel and harbor) and pumping it onshore through huge hoses. As a result, the once silken sand turned into a concrete conglomerate of razor sharp shards of coral, shells and sand. This was not a sand-castle building beach! Hundreds of buildings were destroyed and abandoned. Crime was a problem and there were very few stores or restaurants open for business, especially at night. In fact, the entire island shut down at sunset. Don't get me wrong, we had a great time, but could tell the locals were suffering.

Fast forward to November 23, 2011, 22 years after Hurricane Hugo and 21 years after my family vacation, I returned to Christiansted to join the Cramer and sail around the Caribbean.

View of Christiansted Harbor from Gallows Bay pier.

Much of the island and town of Christiansted was just as I remembered...scenic, colorful, and depressed. Honestly, it seemed the island never fully recovered from Hugo. In stark contrast to the local economy, the no-see-um population was in full swing and at a record high. Perhaps the islanders should invest heavily in Avon Skin-So-Soft (that stuff is BRILLIANT, by the way).

Cramer, dockside

I also remembered the stifling humidity, intense sun, frequent downpours from passing squalls, brilliant sun rises and sunsets, bath tub temperature, crystal clear water, fragrant tropical flora, and pelican population.

the walls of Ft. Christiansted at sunrise

Pelican, hanging out in the early morning sun

Locals enjoying an evening BBQ

I enjoyed my return to St. Croix and Christiansted, but was eager to become familiar with ship life, which I will describe in my next post entitled Sweating and the Importance of Deodorant.

Caribbean Voyage on the Corwith Cramer

This is our initial cruise track, which I create and send to the parents of students enrolled in the 12 week program.
We ended up significantly deviating from the track, thanks to strong trade winds.

As part of my on-the-job training at Sea Education Association (SEA), I spent 3 weeks in the Caribbean learning to sail and navigate the 134ft brigantine tall ship, SSV Corwith Cramer. Every morning I pinched myself and thought, "I'm getting paid to do this."

Corwith Cramer in Gallows Bay, Christiansted, St. Croix, USVI

First let me premise with a surprising Vic factoid: predating my experience on board the Cramer, I had never before sailed. Okay, slight correction, I have thrice set foot on sailing vessels. It is my personal view though, since I was merely a passenger, I did not actually sail.
1. Dad takes Fred (age 6) and I (age 8) sailing on Dillon reservoir in a tiny-ass boat. Violent wind gusts roaring down steep 12,000ft Colorado mountain slopes hurl the tiny boat across the lake. Fred and I thought we were going to die. Not a fun experience. I learned sailing equaled death.
2. Family vacation in St Croix: took a trip to Buck Island on board a 25ft sail boat. I became terribly sea sick and assumed sailing equaled death + vomiting.
3. Sailed on a little sunfish with my dear friend, Beth, in Nantucket. No wind plus strong current equaled hilarity and inability to change course away from the harbor shipping lanes. We ended up jumping out of the boat and swimming/dragging it back to shore. I learned that sailing equaled magic.

View from bow looking aft, furled fore and course sails

Despite my previous sailing adventures, I remained determined to learn as much as possible while maintaining a positive attitude. Before students leave for the sea component, I always ask what they look forward to the most and if they are nervous about anything. Students reply with a variety of comments regarding the former, but are most nervous about their ability to overcome sea sickness. My hesitations were the same since, based on sailing experience #2, sailing equals death + vomiting.

Square-rigged fore mast & braces...Marconi-rigged aft mast

I also worried about functionality. What if I couldn't 'get it'? What if I was all thumbs? To prepare, I studied the physics of sailing. At the very least, if I understood how the ship operated under sail, the tactical components would follow. Chad taught me several knots (actually the knots were and still are difficult for me), how to operate a sextant, and tricks for computing compass deviation and variation. I hoped I could remember it all.

Cramer's binnacle and gimbaled compass

Ship's helm with rudder in neutral position...see the Turkish knot?

On November 22nd, ready or not, I flew to St. Croix, USVI and boarded the Corwith Cramer ready for anything and everything.

A Windy Day...seems to be the theme around here

That's right, another windy day! On Saturday, Feb 25th, WHOI recorded wind gusts between 50 and 60mph. The only difference? This time, the wind blew south-westerly, rather than the usual easternlyish direction.

WHOI pier to the left looking toward the largest of the Elizabeth islands with Martha's Vineyard in the distance

I took the majority of pictures from the observation deck at the MBL Club and Visitor's Center and could barely stand let alone hold the camera still.

Walking the dogs was a hilarious affair. Though Sandy wasn't blown around due to her low center of gravity, the wind whipped her fur in every direction. You could see loose fur flying off her. At the end of the short walk she looked like a deranged punk rocker. One strong gust lifted Tia from the ground and blew her sideways. Frightened and leashed, she ran around my legs, tying them together. The same gust sent sand and fur into my eyes. Now blinded and vertically unstable, I silently wished for no further calamity, but Sandy had enough and yanked on her leash to seek shelter. This tipped the scale and, like a falling tree-except for the briefest of moments when another wind gust rendered me weightless, crashed to the forest floor (or, in my case, parking lot). On that terribly ungraceful note, we immediately ended the walk. I made it out later in the day to take photos.

Waves crashing into the sea wall at low tide. National Marine Fishery Service (NMFS) main building in the background

WHOI buildings...I'm crouched against the MBL pier gate trying not to get wet from sea spray. Again, low tide.

Chad and I rarely sleep through the night when wind gusts exceed 30mph. The constant moaning and groaning of lines (sometimes extra lines) is terribly loud. In the past, floating crap has hit the hull, as have other boats. Plus, we check on the bimini top and need to be ready if something happens. We didn't sleep well Saturday night, and neither did the dogs.

Sunsets

I had the opportunity to capture sunsets at several Falmouth locations this fall and winter.

Little Sippewissett Marsh beach

beach grass, Little Sippewissett Marsh

Breathtaking views and scenery are everywhere - another perk of living on the Cape. It almost takes the edge off paying $3.59 per gallon for gas.

Surf Drive beach with Martha's Vineyard in the background

Surf Drive beach looking towards Nobska Light (not sure which planet...maybe Saturn?)

Phragmites, kettle pond along Surf Drive

 

Quissett Harbor looking towards The Knob

Quissett Harbor mansion

Quissett Harbor, just as the sun sets

I took the majority of photographs after the winter equinox (one cannot simply leave work before 4pm to take pictures) with sunset at or around 5:30pm. Though I am an amateur at best, I can only imagine the astounding images created by a professional photographer.

Where we live and let the dogs play

view of our dock and surrounding boats taken in October

By now many of you know we live in Eel Pond, a small saltwater pond and harbor in Woods Hole, MA. Specifically, we're rafted to a slip at Woods Hole Marine (WHM), directly behind the Woods Hole Market and Shuckers, a mediocre restaurant "specializing" in raw seafood.

Though many boats winter at WHM, we are the only live-aboards, so it's relatively quiet and uneventful, except for the constant howling wind and occasional tourists. Perhaps the more unique and interesting floating features are two house boats and a hand-made wooden schooner.

hand-crafted sail boat, probably 34ish ft

In the summer, the floating houses are moored in Great Harbor (the little harbor between Woods Hole and Penzance Point) and are typically available for rent. Each house uses solar and wind energy for power, collects rain for fresh water, and uses wood burning stoves for heat.

Houseboat #1

I want one. More specifically, it would be fun to build and live in one.

The hamlet of Woods Hole is also a perfect location for dogs and their owners. Dogs walk their masters around Eel Pond and up and down Water Street, the main drag. Sandy and Tia also enjoy walks around town, but their favorite go-to spot is a little grassy yard, nestled behind WHOI buildings, with a spectacular view of Eel Pond.

street entrance to the little yard

Panorama view

foggy day

The yard is perfect for dogs; they can explore - leash-free- and smell, play and chase bunnies and ducks (Sandy loves this). It's also great for human relaxation.

sunrise

Sandy and Tia have already charmed many visitors and, at least in the morning, they greet them on their way to work. On sunny days, they'll relax on the aft deck and snooze.

They really enjoy the boat...as long as they can run around at least 4 times during the day. Rainy days are grouchy days and they tend to miss-behave or 'argue.' Sandy and Tia adore beach trips and love to play in the sand, chase waves and swim.

Sandy and Tia playing with "Yellow Ball"

Winter's been pretty fun and we're looking forward to spring and summer!

Winter in Woods Hole

Winters in Woods Hole are windy, mild and temperatures rarely dip below 35 degrees F. Rain replaces snow and foggy, over-cast days out number sunny ones. The wind constantly blows, howls and screams, picking up sand or sea-spray and flinging it everywhere. It's no wonder the houses are all painted grey and covered with shingles: the Cape Gray Lady style.

A view of Water Street looking towards National Marine Fisheries & MBL

Since snow is pretty rare in Woods Hole and inches of accumulation rarer still, it was a pleasant surprise to wake up to snow! At 8:00am snow really began to accumulate, and Sandy and Tia enjoyed playing in it.

In Eel Pond, ice began to form as the temperature dropped.

Mooring buoy the owners forgot to remove

Ice forming near the dock. Though it's cold, shoveling snow into the pond definitely accelerated ice formation.

Chad couldn't shovel fast enough...the snow kept coming!

We're up to 5 inches and snow continues to fall. It makes for a peaceful, quiet Saturday.

Most of the time the boat is pretty warm. In addition to forced-are heat, we added two electric and one propane heater (yes, mom and dad, it's safe). But, since the marina has no internet, we often escape to local shops like Coffee Obsession, Pie in the Sky, Woods Hole Market (formerly The Food Buoy), or Captain Kidd's for heat while we work online.

 

 A view of our dock in the snow. We're docked behind the wrapped boat on the left.

 View of Eel Pond from a little courtyard where Sandy and Tia play during outside time.

We've experience a few cold days (12-25 degrees F) that challenged our thermal-preparedness. The main challenge is trying to run two electric heaters, one in the bilge/engine compartment and one in the cabin, without overloading the circuits. The propane heater helps, but placement must be strategic and crucial and run time is limited. Another issue is keeping up with and trying to eliminate condensation, a particular issue in the forward compartment, since it sits lower than the main salon and is not heated. To our surprise, lighting about a zillion candles in the forward head helps mitigate condensation and keeps the sink from freezing.
With all the challenges that come from living on a boat, it remains a fun adventure, and I am having a great time!