I Am Sailing – Part 3
Table of Contents
The Tall Ship 1
Here We Go 1
The Winston Churchill 1
Induction 2
No. 1 on No. 1 Watch 2
I am on the Helm 3
The Irish Sea 3
Fore Watch On Main Deck 4
Teamwork? 4
Late for breakfast 5
Into Oban 7
Home at Last 9
The Epilogue 10
The Tall Ship
We had neighbours, Jeff and Gail -across the road- who we were good friends with. His wife – for his 40th birthday – bought him a five-sailing day trip from Liverpool to Oban in Scotland – as a mid-life adventure – as crew – on a ‘Tall Ship”.
He wasn’t keen on ferries – so was more than worried.
Spoke to Jean and we agreed that I would go with him for support – I was intrigued by a ‘Tall Ship and – might even enjoy it.
Here We Go
Couple of months later – Sunday – late pm. We are getting out of the car on the East Float in Birkenhead docks. Familiar territory for me from my childhood – living only twenty minutes’ walk away.
First sight of –
The Winston Churchill
A three Masted Topsail Schooner – qualifying for any ‘Tall Ships’ events and mainly used as a training ship for disadvantaged youths – focusing on self-development and teamwork.
Our trip was, of course, for a mature group.
37 metres = stem to stern
Total of 55 crew – including 39 trainees and, therefore – 16 crew who knew what they were doing – I hope.
We have to register, and each allocated a bunk on the communal Half Deck base on which ‘watch’ we were each allocated to.
‘Trainees’ split into three ‘watches’ – named – Fore, Main and Mizzen – the designations of the three masts. Each member doing four hours ‘on’ and eight hours ‘off’ – i.e. two working watches over twenty-four hours.
Induction
Total crew assembly on the rear half deck – with audience and stage.
Captain introduces himself and his senior personnel – First Mate, Ship’s Engineer, Purser, Doctor – even the Chef (turned out to be a cook, really).
The only real rule I remember – was – ‘he only things you flush down the toilets are what you have eaten’.
This didn’t surprise me – Having already sailed on skippered yachts in Turkey and Greece and even in a few hotels.
The drainage pipes couldn’t deal with toilet paper.
The Engineer even produced his tool – what appeared to be a metre-long spoon – and described in detail his job of manually emptying/ dredging – the blocked piping.
Aversion therapy, I guess.
No. 1 on No. 1 Watch
I have no idea why – other than pure luck – but I was allocated – with a badge – as No.1 on the Fore watch
Lucky because – when we left Birkenhead on the ebb tide i.e. going out to sea – at about 1 am on what was actually Monday morning. The Mersey tides do rip along – so trying to leave a few hours earlier – against the flood tide – we just wouldn’t make any headway at all.
I am on the Helm
I had the best view – I was on the helm – gripping an ancient wooden hip’s wheel – with the Liverpool Pilot right next to me, giving instructions – and the skipper watching like a hawk.
The Pilots, in ports all over the world – board incoming and outgoing ships to guide them to their exits or their berth. The one next to me had come alongside in a motorboat and jumped on board despite the fact that we were riding a very fast rip tide.
I had to follow his instructions exactly of course – otherwise we might end up at Pier Head blocking the ferries. There is no digital compass – no displays for headings i.e. direction – and no Sat Nav – just a Pilot shouting at me.
The wheel has a piece of rope tied and sealed at 12 on the top centre – so that is a straight rudder. A full rotation of the wheel, in any direction – represents 5 degrees of rudder movement i.e. heading / direction – and then has to be reversed to get back straight.
So, an instruction- ‘ten degrees Starboard’ – means that I rotate the whole wheel to the right, twice – and then back, twice – to centre the ship straight, once on the new course.
Five degrees Port – is one full turn to the left – and returned.
After, maybe an hour – making good speed – without any incidents, We reach the ‘Bar’ – where the Mersey stops, and the Irish Sea starts -.
The Pilot gives me a pat on the back and is off – jumping onto his motorboat.
As a Birkenhead boy – born and raised – I regard that as one of the most memorable experiences of my life – and, I’ve had a few.
The Irish Sea
Getting pretty windy – as I eventually get off to bed – having done my very important four-hour watch – and preserving our lives – obeying the Pilot.
Checked on Jeff – I knew where his bunk was – in fact, close to the gents
Toilets and showers -which was handy, he was asleep, so I didn’t disturb him.
I went off to sleep OK – but soon woken by the bow banging down on the water. Obviously getting choppy and a bumpy ride.
Luckily, I have never been bothered with seasickness – so able to get some sleep – being rocked by the rhythm of the ship.
Fore Watch On Main Deck
That is – until a PA announcement – ‘Fore watch required on Main Deck’.
Out of the bunk – gear back on – we have been allocated – wellies and full waterproofs – and up to the open deck.
Turns out that we have a force 7 – ‘Near Gale’ – just 1 short of a Force 8 Gale and the Mainsail needs hoisting I can only guess to give us more stability and some steering control.
This is a manual job for two watches of eight crew each – spaced out on the correct ropes – like a tug of war – pulling in rhythm -timed by the call of the deck crew – everything but the sea shanty.
Finally sail up and back to bed – and it did seem to have settled, just a bit.
Teamwork?
I can now – personally, vouch for the fact that – being dragged out of your bunk – at 4am to get your kit on because another watch was required to join the team to manually hoist a mainsail – didn’t obviously seem to do much for teamwork.
However – what I did learn, was that the members of the watch (each watch had its own unique, badges) who turned up in good time i.e. most of them – were basically taken for granted – but the two – not in my watch – who arrived, separately – about twenty minutes later – in fact not long before the job was done and actually, couldn’t find space on a rope as we were already spaced out on them and nobody moved to let them on.
They just stood watching! As they were identified and noted to memory by all the rest of us. Including a few not too subtle asides – my favourite of which was – ‘Looks like we’re a f***ing spectator sport now”.
That’s actually a lesson in – how to not teamwork and I think, I already knew that.
It also proved that – some people never learn.
Late for breakfast
The very day after. One of the two late comers, a well-spoken man, who looked about 80 -turned up for breakfast in the communal galley – scheduled for 08.00 – he waltzed in about 08.40
The rest of us – despite a very disturbed night – had been on time and were sat having finished or finishing our breakfasts.
Couldn’t take our eyes off the show, the cook was a big girl who, we already knew, didn’t mince her words.
He walks up to the counter – cook says – ‘Yes, Sir’ ?? – he says – ‘bacon and eggs, please’.
It all went quiet – I was hooked – she takes a deep breath. ‘Can I ask you sir – what time you think breakfast is scheduled for?
He dithers a bit – and says – ‘well breakfast time’ – I thought she was going to hit him. She controlled herself – and said – ‘yes and ‘breakfast time’ (with almost a sneer) – starts at 08.00 and service finishes at O8.30 exactly – so you are too late. Now go away’.
He looked confused – but did leave. I think that he got off lightly. I didn’t really expect her to hit him – but a lifetime ban looked on the cards.
He really shouldn’t have been on the trip by himself – on a ship which, literally, didn’t carry any passengers – well -maybe apart from Jeff – but I was looking after him.
The safety of the ship – including our mature group – depended on discipline and teamwork.
Jeff
Now Monday am – check on Jeff. He was at least, communicating. Had a disturbed night – as we all had – some more than others. and had got up to be sick in the toilet Was passing on breakfast – I managed to sort some bottled water for him. We agreed. he was better staying in bed for a while and could, at least, get to the toilets.
The next couple of days saw him mostly in bed and drinking a lot of water – I insisted.
Second day – I got the doctor to have a look – he had been busy because Jeff was not the only walking wounded – whilst the weather had slowly relented – it was still a bit of a bumpy ride.
His opinion. Nothing to worry about – he seemed adequately hydrated but he was excused duties and got more water.
Winds predicted to pass over in the next twenty-four hours
I did my duties – including:
Cleaning the Captain’s head i.e. his toilet. (the privileges of No.1 on Fore watch!)
Served and washed up dinner one evening -luckily with only half the crew actually eating – even some staff passing.
Attended a talk on weather forecasting – linked to what we’re going through.
And checking on Jeff, of course.
I was OK – just bloody bored – not even a proper drink to be had and
some of the training sessions had been cancelled.
Not my idea of the ideal holiday.
Wednesday morning dawned and had clearly got quieter and settled over night. We were, by now past the Isle of Man and on course for Oban – berthing on Thursday evening.
Checked on Jeff – some improvement and he had slept better and not been sick. I suggested we might get him up later and get him on deck for some fresh air and an improved view. Left him with his water to think about it.
Certainly, more people at breakfast than the last few days, even a bit of a queue.
Later – I even got my gear on and ventured up on deck for a bit of fresh air. Still a bit of a blow but dry and not so cold – even some blue sky.
I would have loved a pint!
Volunteered to help with lunch – just to pass the time. I must have been well in with the kitchen staff – because I told them about Jeff and the fact that he had had no solid food for a couple of days. Got some jam sponge cake for him.
Back to Jeff – still improving- actually sat up – and wolfed the cake – all to himself. Just complained that there was no custard!
Jeff Walking
Later that day – I did get him out of bed – he dressed himself – thankfully.
A bit unsteady on his feet at first but got up the stairs and outside and sat on a capstan.
Wind dropped even more and lot of blue sky – so quite pleasant and getting closer to the UK west coast, so nice views of – something green.
A couple of beers and it would have been perfect.
I did cheer him up by saying – when we berth in Oban – there will be Final ‘Wash Up’ Session for the whole crew – and there will be cans of beer – I have my sources in catering.
Into Oban
Motoring into our destination – still daylight – flat calm and volunteers called for to ‘dress the rigging’.
Which apparently involves individual crew climbing the rigging to find a place where they can stand upright – with hand holds – usually on the yard-arms – almost like decorating the rigging, particularly the top of it – as a show of skill to the waiting families and friends.
Jeff – passed on it – I was up for it. we expected to be met by Jean and Gail and their daughter Laurel. – and I fancied a photo.
Accepted as a candidate and fitted with a safety harness and shown how to clip on as I climb. Starting with the vertical rope ladders on both sides of the deck and then any sail rigging available – clipping the safety harness whenever possible. Gets a bit hairy towards the top – but I am not bad with heights and managed to get to the second highest yardarm
and clipped on – stood upright – all the way through until we were tied up.
Hoping that Jean is waiting on the quay and gets a photo. She wasn’t and didn’t – because they were still in the hotel.
I should clarify that this was an age when mobile/cell-phones were not ubiquitous (lovely word)
Probably for the best because it was some time before we got to actually disembark.
Most crew all packed up during the afternoon and ship’s kit returned and checked.
Finally – full assembly and the ‘Wash up’ – the highlight of which was the cans of beer – which Jeff didn’t struggle with – my sources were accurate. Can’t remember much of the rest – starting to feel like a long week.
Jeff had the hotel phone number and got access to a landline – and we eventually meet them on the quay – very moving – I suspect that they didn’t think one or both of us would survive!
Back on dry land – jeff recovers quickly and is up for some dinner – and a drink, of course.
Back to the hotel – dump our bags and they have a local venue sorted -large bar – OK with children – restaurant and a Scottish heritage stage show.
If it’s licensed, we are game.
Time for proper hot shower and fresh clothes – we don’t hang around – and hit the street for a walk to our night out.
Great evening – lovely dinner – great sea food – first glass of wine for a week – and got a table in the concert room – with Laurel – about twelve at the time – and a great show –
Ceilidh Band followed by three prize- winning pipers who went from the traditional stuff to some astonishing covers of current top ten hits and disco stuff – laurel – couldn’t keep her feet still and got up, off Jean’s knee – onto the floor in front of the stage (encouraged by Jean) to ‘perform’ her version of what looked like Irish dancing – a bit!
They got her up on stage and tried to give her an impromptu rhythm – didn’t help the dancing but she did get a round of applause from the audience – she didn’t stop smiling for days.
Calls from the band for what we would like to hear –
Maybe – wine and beer – had gone to my head – I shouted – ‘Rhythm & Blues’ – and they went for it – did a recognisable version of ‘Stevie Wonder’s – ‘Superstition’ and then some Eric Clapton – Never seen – or heard – anything like it.
No wonder they were prize-winners.
So, a very special night – followed by sleeping like a log.
In fact – think that Jeff and I also slept for a good part of the journey back – the ladies sharing the driving – probably a good idea for us not to drive just yet – get our land legs back.
Home at Last
Long, tiring drive – with a few stops. But eventually on our street and home, about 07.30.
I was always happy to get home from my travels – but this time I was very, very happy.
Quick change into my scruff and a sit, feet up, on my chair – which wasn’t moving at all. Jean obviously tired now – covered a lot of miles in the last two days.
Decide – if we eat – it will be a takeaway.
Just like getting back to civilisation – on a solid foundation.
I make an effort and get up and bring two glasses of wine – even give jean one of them!
Didn’t even bother with a takeaway and in bed by 9pm – asleep by 9.15
both feeling better in the morning – though we don’t stir ‘til about 11.
coffee and a couple of breakfast biscuits -. feeling half human –
and starting to value the experience – certainly puts my comfortable existence in perspective – and – I survived -and – Jeff would have really struggled without me.
The Epilogue
In the post, a couple of days later – I get an RYA accredited ‘Certified Competent Crew’ Certificate – with my name on it.
Never expected it – but bloody brilliant – the first hurdle on my way to RYA accreditation is hopped over – well OK – maybe staggered over.
A couple of nights later we are asked over to Jeff and Gail’s for a drink and nibbles – our version of a ‘wash up’.
Pleasant as usual – but I soon realised that he had re-written history somewhat and had been hoisting sails and climbing the rigging like a born sailor.
No problem – it was his birthday present and if he got a few stories for the pub – fair enough.
He did make a point – when we were in the kitchen sorting drinks –
To. personally, thank me for my help – admitting that he didn’t know how he would have managed without me.
Sorted!
I had made a point to not mention the RYA Certificate – unless he did -and he didn’t so I didn’t.
I have no doubt that, if he had also got one – it would already have been framed and hung in a prominent place.
I still have no idea of the criteria – but it looks like not everyone – who survives – gets one.
I had fulfilled all my duties – Captain’s head included – and actually volunteered for extra – and maybe my time on the helm counted for something.
I still have no idea why I was No.1 on No. 1 Watch – and couldn’t see an easy way to find out – bit naff, ringing the company – so I remain in blissful ignorance – except that –
I will never sail on a Tall Ship again!