Wednesday - Day 1

I didn't sleep particularly well the first night. It was very noisy. It's supposed to be quiet after 22:00, but between late arrivals (my family!), somebody clogging up the head so it had to be pumped out in the middle of the night, and the fact that the walls are rather thin... well, I dozed off and on.

The gallons of coffee I drank while waiting to see if my family would arrive in time to sail with us had a not-unexpected effect. Naturally, the head that was practically outside my door was the one that was temporarily out of order, so I had to make my way forward and topside to use one of the others.

I went on my quest in stocking feet and was surprised to find that the carpeting in the passage was quite damp. Later, I figured out that it was from all those wet feet coming below deck from the soggy outside (I guess. We didn't sink, so it must not have been a leak!)

Wednesday morning, a good breakfast in the 'main saloon': blueberry pancakes with tons of fresh berries in them, piles of bacon, cut fruit, juice, and plenty of good, hot coffee.

We got under way 10:00-ish, as scheduled. It was still foggy when we set sail. The light rain started shortly thereafter, then turned into a fairly heavy downpour. I'm glad I brought those silly $.99 emergency rain ponchos - one each for Bebe, Sam, and myself - but now understand why real rain gear would have been a good investment. The ponchos were certainly better than nothing, but they flapped around in the brisk wind and didn't protect my lower 1/3 at all!

I didn't care, because the wind was strong enough that we were actually under sail. We were able to be under sail because I, and about a dozen other volunteers, hoisted the sails! I swore I wouldn't... but did, every day. I was on the Throat Halyard all but one time. I was more comfortable there. I guess all the left-handers opted for the Peak Halyard. 'Throat' is definitely better: the peak of the sail is much higher, so it takes more work to get that part up. I also ended up furling sails every day after we anchored. Between the two jobs, I got plenty of exercise!

Lunch on Wednesday was served below deck. It was still raining and windy and they took pity on us. Normally, it's served topside.

It was my first time ever actually sailing on a big boat with honest-to-goodness sails and I adored it! I was perfectly content to simply stand on deck, listening to the sound of the sails in the wind and the boat in the water, and watching the scenery flow by. At one time or another, we saw seals, eagles, a variety of critters living in or near the water. I alternated my time between standing topside, wind and rain in my face, falling hopelessly in love with being under sail, and taking shelter below to dry out and warm up.

A friend had warned me to take Bonine with me, that even though I have never gotten seasick on larger ships, I certainly would on this one. He explained that it wouldn't be the roll or the pitch that would make me sick. It would be the yaw. Well, I'm happy to tell you that our first day out really put his theory to the test. We were rolling a lot, pitching a little, and... well, if there was yaw, it escaped me. I not only felt fine, but loved every second of it. And I didn't take the Bonine (though he had scared me into bringing some along!).

The rain had stopped by the time we anchored late Wednesday afternoon at Buck's Harbor (lovingly referred to by the crew as Bugs Harbor; they strongly recommended bug repellent - which they carried on the yawl boat - before going ashore).

For 'shore excursions', you have to climb over the edge of the boat on a ladder which tilts inward (I suppose to keep it from falling off - or something) into the yawl boat, which seats 10-12 people. The First Mate, Jeff, supervised while one of the hands 'drove'. Though I never asked, it seemed that the mate was training the deckhand.

The Captain had said that the one store in town would probably stay open if they had seen us coming in. Up the hill and turn left. Buck's Harbor is a far cry from St. Thomas or San Juan, as far as ports of call go! The store was a grocery store with a good selection of wine and other stuff that you wouldn't buy for souvenirs, but rather for sustenance or allergy relief. It was fairly clear why the crew said they'd be back for us in only 45 minutes.

At breakfast Wednesday, Kip asked who wanted lobster for dinner. Before we set sail, he popped over to Owl's Head to pick them up - 2 per person! I only managed to polish off one. We also had homemade rolls, potato salad, corn, and... I don't remember what else.

For some reason, Maine lobster tastes better in Maine than any lobster does in Ohio. Seems unnatural, somehow, eating seafood in Ohio, at least for this native Californian.

The crew was absolutely wonderful. There were a couple of seasoned sailors (the first and second mates), fairly young, but most of the crew are either new sailors or have limited experience. Every one of them was delightful: intelligent, accommodating, friendly, informative, and just plain fun.

I later asked Cap'n Kip how he found such wonderful young people to crew the boat. He said he interviews them over the phone and asks first if they have any sailing experience, then if they really like people. One young man was hired after a few phone interviews and had never even met the Cap'n before coming to work for him. And... he had never sailed before! Kip said he often hires non-sailors with great personalities and trains them. So my impression - that the First Mate was training Matt in handling the yawl boat and navigating the harbor - was probably correct.

I spent most of the evening topside with a few of the crew and passengers, talking, sipping coffee... When I was a teenager, I spent a summer working in Yosemite at one of the high camps. Talking and singing around the campfire at night was one of the highlights of the summer. The feeling aboard the Victory Chimes in the evening is much the same: it's dark; the only light is from a lantern or two; the only sounds are muted conversation, the sounds of the water lapping against the boat, and the sound of a foghorn in the distance. If you've ever experienced it, you know the kind of mood I'm talking about. If you haven't experienced it, you really should...

I slept like a baby that night.