When Ships Race Like Horses

27-07-2011  

2330 – 58˚53.6’N x 6˚02.6’E – Hogsfjorden, Norway.

By Matthew Maples
The race was ending just as dramatically as it had begun. A mere 12 miles of the North Sea lay between us and the finish as we bore closer, downwind in the night-fallen sea. The Pogoria was visible in the darkened mist with her red over green sailing lights shining like eyes perched upon her mast. She was close, very close in fact, and I watched her creep closer through the gloom as our watches handed over duties. We square-riggers were not alone. The Norwegian Live was close by, as well as another yacht, tagging along with our pack. All were close by, in lengths that could be measured in meters, not miles.  We were all bearing down for the finish like racehorses bottlenecking at the last moment. The beginnings of tall ship races often begin with the tall ship fleet jockeying for position, but never have I seen the last leg of a tall ship race have the same close-quarters wrangling that we now found ourselves in. 

Soon, the Polish Pogoria was closer on our starboard, close enough that we could look inside their deckhouse through their lighted windows and hear the water whoosh against their hull. What was she scheming? Did she want to force her way across our bow and oblige us to give way? Did she want to sweep onto our port side and go for the closer side of the finish line?

We did not wait long enough to find out. Our mast lights came on, illuminating our sails in golden glow, as Captain Klaas stirred us into motion to brace the yards more square and stretch the windward tack corners of our course sails to reach for the wind at our backs. It was apparent that Pogoria was seeking to pass us from behind.

Despite Pogoria’s predations, Klaas had an ace up his sleeve. A small yacht was close on our starboard, out of Pogoria’s line of sight. With our sails newly trimmed, we were able to garner enough speed to pass the yacht. As the Europa lurched forward, the Pogoria was greeted with the yacht in its path, forcing them to maneuver to avoid the small boat. This cost the Poles their gamble, and the Pogoria fell back.  Soon their mast lights came on as the Poles trimmed their sail to try to recoup their loss, but it was to no avail, the Pogoria fell behind us in the last, critical minutes of the race. Lit like a stricken ghost ship, she lingered in our stern and was well within earshot when Captain Klaas sounded a blast from the foghorn as our bow crossed the line at exactly 01hour 03minutes and 53seconds UTC on the 27^th of July.

This race was a short one, it was only a little over 200 miles from Lerwick to Stavanger, and we had a fairly steady wind at our backs to coast us across. Unlike our previous sail to Lerwick from Orkney, there was not much sail-handling to do after the beginning of the race. The beginning was exciting though, as the 48 tall ships in the race bounded away to Stavanger like a pack of hounds let off their leash. On all sides were our fellow Class A tall ships. At one point we could look to our starboard and see a pack of half a dozen square-riggers, among them Statsraad Lehmkuhl, Christian Radich and Gloria, all reaching for the horizon!

With the race over and Norway’s lights in sight, we trimmed sail and made for the fjords past Stavanger. We were a day early for the festival, a day that we spent half-sailing, half-motoring in a network of fjords. It was an awesome sight for us to see the coastal rocks rise into the stone and green walls of a fjord. To sail here, is akin to sailing into a water-filled canyon.  At one point Klaas saluted a passing ferry with a boom from our horn. Its echo reverberated throughout the canyon, bouncing off the stoic fjords for half a dozen seconds. Klaas must have enjoyed the effect, for he saluted the ferry several more times, causing multiple echoes to careen across the fjord in sonic marvel. It sounded as if an entire fleet had entered the fjord! Norway knows we are here.

Earlier in our trip, we had joked that because we were sailing south, even to Norway, that we would have lovely warm weather to rescue us from the frigid tempests of Lerwick. As the afternoon ended yesterday, Klaas pointed to a small patch of light in the gray clouds forward; “See the blue patch, summer is coming!”. I think many of us thought it was a joke, as Norway is a rather northern place, but it actually was sunny and fairly warm here! Our coats and woolen caps came off, and coffee and lunch came on deck today for the first time in weeks. I think many of us had forgotten about how lovely it was to be warm and see sunshine whilst we were in the gray north.

We finished our sightseeing stroll in Hogsfjorden fjord. After our anchor hit bottom we turned from sailing to celebration – with, naturally, a Europa BBQ Braai and a first-class spread of meats, potatoes and salads. It is a relaxed, final last night together for our entire crew before we haul up our anchor for a tall ship rendezvous in waiting Stavanger.

Lerwick – Land of Fiddles and Vikings

By Matthew Maples

24-07-2011 10:00

 

We should be out at sea right now, enroute to Stavanger, Norway. Instead, our docklines remain firmly fixed to the concrete pier of Shetland. Outside, the wind howls for the third day in a row, now joined by the cold rain. Even within our ship we wear multiple layers for warmth, sometimes with even our winter coats, caps and mitts on to keep away the chill of the northern winds that bellow down from arctic regions. Winter gear? Isn’t this July?

It may be summer but this is the Shetland Islands. Here, we are only a mere few degrees from the Arctic circle at this latitude. When we depart, we will sail ‘south’ to Norway. It says something about how north you are when you are sailing south to Norway!

For better or worse, the race is delayed and we wait. Regardless of the cold, we are far from bored. Lerwick has given the ships a welcome and festival with warmth far in excess of the frowning weather.  These maritime people seem to understand well the needs of a ship and its crew, with ample facilities and entertainment in offer.

In competition with the howl of the wind, the very air of Lerwick is permeated with music. Every time I walk off the ship I hear the sounds of bagpipes marching through the streets, of fast-folk-fiddles and bellowing accordians from one of the outdoor concert venues or a solo musician upon a street corner. The Shetlander’s are a proud people and the full effect of their musical heritage, costumery and tradition is on display. Yet the Shetlander’s manage to meld the rare combination of pride and hospitality without a hint of arrogance. I remember witnessing a folk-dance event held on our pier. Many of the Shetlander’s knew the traditional dances played by the fiddles and accordians, and they did not mind when some of our tall ship crews joined in. Despite our less-than-fancy footwork and off-kilter coordination, they accepted us into their fun and tried to help us along.  All in good cheer.

Lerwick looks like what one expects an “old-timey” seaside town to look like with gray stone buildings with winding uphill streets topped by a cannon-studded fort. Our forest of masts completes the illusion of time-travel to an earlier maritime era.

The excitement did not begin in Lerwick however, our voyage from Orkney to the Shetlands was quite an energetic sail. With the wind coming from the north we were forced to tack our way around the west end of Orkney to make our way to the southern tip of the Shetlands.
The passage was quick, even as we were close hauled with steady wind, for the Shetlands were only a mere 90 miles from our starting position in Orkney. Arriving at the rolling green pastures and cliffs of southern Shetland on the 20th, we sailed past a cliff-borne lighthouse, where Colin Baxter, father of our bosun Daniel Baxter, was awaiting us, camera at the ready to shoot a photo finish of our voyage. We would end our day anchored in Mousa Bay, near the most intact “Broch” (an iron-age tower-like structure of mysterious purpose) in all of Scotland. Klaas has a knack for anchoring us in places with good breakfast scenery!

Despite arriving, our work was just beginning anew since we had to tack again and again up the east coat of the Shetlands. Our tacking skills were improving by now, no mean feat, as tacking a square-rigged ship is an involved manuever, requiring as many hands as possible for success.
In tacking we alter our course by bringing the bow across the face of the wind, using only our rudder and sails to bring the wind upon the other side of the vessel. It is a good exercise for crew and trainees, as we need to work together and in concertion with our 24 sails to manuever our ship.

It begins with a slacking of our headsails to take wind pressure off of our bow and bringing our mizzen spanker sail closer to the wind to increase the force upon the stern. With the rudder swung to the opposite side for steerage, we then brace our main mast squares for the new tack, and let the foremast sails go aback, filling backwards with wind so that we are actually pushed backwards and to the other side of the wind. Then our triangular staysails are brought to the other side and trimmed for the new wind. Throughout the whole manuever sails are taken away and reset, trimmed to a new tack and squares are braced. All of it needs to happen on time and quickly, putting the boot of time to our butts to really work the ship – a test of our skill truly! We had plenty of practice since the Orkney’s and the improvement was really showing as we tacked for show a few times outside of Lerwick, whilst the other tall ships merely motored into harbor.

Though we groan at the news of headwinds, perhaps it is a good thing for our us and our trainees – it is a lot of experience at sailing – a lot of ropes to pull and sail to haul aloft. Though harder then simply setting the sails and enjoying the view, we are better sailors at the end of the day for all the work. Besides, it makes dinner taste better.

On the afternoon of the 21st, the day of our arrival, we had our crew parade to celebrate the opening of the festivities. Our trainees continued their traditional theme of pirates and mermaids, while the crews of several dozen fellow tall ships in port sported everything from smart white navy uniforms to foul weather gear and buckets on their heads. Leading every crew was a small mob of Shetlander’s dressed in the steels and leather of their Viking ancestors, brandishing both axes and grins in homage to their heritage. The crew party followed with a sea-bound horde of tall ship crews and trainees in attendance. Since then, Lerwick has provided tours, fireworks, and evening concerts to accompany their lively island banter to entertain.

Lerwick has been a good host to us, so it is not painful for us to stay because of the race delay. A force 7 wind has kicked up the North Sea, making the passage painful for the “not-so-tall-ships”. We would be fine, if uncomfortable in such a mess. Regardless, the race authorities have chosen to delay the race until tomorrow. Hopefully by then the wind will have abated and we can begin our crossing to a waiting Stavanger.

Sailing, Scenery and a Live Soundtrack?

19-07-2011 10:00

0600 – Stromness Harbor, Orkney Islands. It has been good sailing for us since we left Rum Island. Coming up through the Upper Hebrides, often making 9 to 10 knots, we flew past the northwestern corner of Scotland – Cape Wrath.

 

Old Man of Hoy

Nearing the Orkney’s with some time to spare, we cruised slightly more northward of the western side of the island. We had a rendezvous with the Old Man of Hoy. The western face of Orkney is an epic wall of stone, a natural wall without the imperfections of mortar, the cliff faces had streaks of red upon them, with great hills of green rising behind. Rising above the sea, the stony pillar that is the Old Man of Hoy commanded our attention and cameras. Self supported, the natural pillar could be said to appear like a man with a square beard when seen from the northern face. Under sail as we cruised among this scenery, our crew’s cameras made our deck sound like a field of shuttering crickets.

Anybody not with a camera in the their hand seemed to have a fishing line out our back, as several of our crew have developed a taste for the mackeral of northern Scotland, causing us to always be trailing a few long “spagetti” lines as we fill ice boxes with the striped fish for some fresh food. Cruising further north, then east, we ended our day at Kirkwall Harbor for the night.

On the next day we cast off our lines and rounded Orkney making for the harbor of Stromness. Cutting in from the perimeter from the east, we entered the island-encircled waters of Scapa Flow, our quiet sails leaving the watery graves of Germany’s scuttled WWI fleet undisturbed. We were greeted at the gray-stone seaside town of Stromness by a small forest of masts. Already many ships of the summer’s tall ship fleet were in harbor in Stromness.

Stromness

With no space for our own ship left, we had to come alongside a large barquentine, the Gulden Leeuw. Jammed full of tall ships of all classes,  the harbor town of Stromness, with its squat gray houses, rounded streets and church tower, along with its penchant for fog creates a perfect setting for a wharf full of tall ships. Our masts seem to complete the town, creating a scene that will no doubt feature on postcards for years to come.

Yesterday, our voyage crew took a day away from the ship for a bus tour of the Orkeney’s, and we filled our decks with passengers for a day sail in Scapa Flow. With intermittent sunshine and a good wind, we glided past the green hills and cow-filled fields of Orkney. Joined by Tecla for the afternoon, we set squares and all but our upper staysails to fill with the ample breeze. Uniquely, we also had two bands of musicians on board playing sea shanties and maritime-inspired folk music for the afternoon. Most of us were in a bit of disbelief as to actually have a live soundtrack to our sail handling!

We have had a splendid stop in the Orkney’s, but in a few hours we will again cast off our lines to make the final stretch to the Shetlands. Apparently headwinds await us, but we hope to make the most of the unfavorable conditions.

By Matthew Maples

Rum Island, Shetland Islands, and the Hebrides

By Matthew Maples

14-07-2011 10:00

 

Our journey northwards to the Shetland Islands, while leisurely, has still been as exciting as a tall ships race – at least it is for those who have not seen the islands of the Hebrides in far northwest Scotland. By day we slowly weave through chains of forlorn islands of stone-strewn cliffs and weathered, greened tops. Every island we cross seems to be more impressive then the last one left in our wake.  Today, as small showers of rain and fog came and went, the islands would disappear and re-appear, lending a dream-like flourish to an already dramatic landscape.

Using the sunshine of yesterday to our advantage, we dropped anchor around noon at Colons Isle, a small island landscape of rolling, goat-dotted hills that bills itself as “The smallest island in the world to have it’s own brewery”. Sailing into Colons, we were accompanied by the Bessy Ellen, a ketch-rigged wooden tall ship piloted by long-time friends of Captain Klaas. Mooring their ship alongside our own, we were soon joined by another tall ship, the Gallant. Together, all three ships were tied together for an impromptu tall ship lunchtime gathering.

The weather was surprisingly sunny and warm enough that some of our crew actually went swimming in the cold Scottish waters.  After a day of leisure at Colons, we set sail for the north. By later evening our sail was finished and we anchored at Iona Island in the vicinity of a milennia old monastary, Iona Abbey, on the island’s shoreline.

Photo JC Richardson

Summer in Scotland ended. Today fall came, making it much colder, with some rain, and sometimes some sun. A south-born breeze followed the morning sun giving us a steady Force 3 (7-10 knot) wind to carry us northwards. Squeezing through the Gunna Sound, we sighted a total of eight basking sharks. These sharks, growing up to 11 meters long, are some of the largest species of sharks in the world. They are, thankfully, vegetarians as well.  We sighted them probably “grazing” with their grandiose size mouths near the surface, scooping up the smallest plant and animal life in the ocean.

Photo Greg Skomal

A minke whale was also seen late in the afternoon, trailing our vessel for about 20 minutes and appearing periodically for heaving gulps of air – allowing us a short glance at its long, arching back and small dorsal fin.

Sirius hates the whales and sharks so much that it is beginning to be comical. Whenever he sees them appear he pokes his head through the rail to deliver a stern barking at the offending sea beasts! I think our crew is beginning to learn that there is interesting wildlife to look at when they hear our mascot dog sound his alarm. You know how much your dog at home hates the postman when he delivers the mail? Imagine how it must hackle a dog to see a whale breach just outside his floating home!

It was a good sail for most of today, giving us plenty of opportunities for more sail training. It’s been especially bracing as we had to keep trimming our yards to match a wind that slowly crept from the south to the north-west. We ended our day braced sharp, fafter starting out nearly square and downwind in the beginning. What would otherwise have been a lot of work is made easier with the enthusiastic willingness of our trainees to learn and sail. Thanks to Jay’s deluge of daily sailing classes and our on-deck, on-the-job practical experience, our trainees are beginning to get a better grasp of how our bark sails and how we manage her acres of canvas.

We finished with our anchor resting at Rùm Island. Some of our crew had a brief foray ashore for a evening walk and a short stay at the nearly deserted island which is a nature reserve. A small, one-room pub was found in Kinloch Castle, giving our crew ashore a place to find refuge from the midges (small, gnat-like annoying insects).

Tomorrow we heave anchor and move amble northward to gaze at the fabled Isle of Skye. Hopefully another lovely sail day in our Hebrides Tour.
 

In Greenock

By Matthew Maples

10-07-2011 21:00

 

It feels like we have just arrived, but already the festivities in Greenock are winding down, an ending for our sail celebration in Greenock. More importantly, however, it is the last stop for many of our trainees and some of our crew.

Today was the lynchpin day, the day of the parade and awards ceremony. For several days our trainees had worked on making costumes for a mermaid-and-pirate themed ensemble. I was surprised at the amount of effort they put into it! They spent several days making wigs for the mermaids from spent strands of our rope and painted canvas fish tails for their bottoms.
The rest made pirate outfits from their trainee shirts and had a formidable armory of pirate weaponry to match their mandatory moustaches. I did not personally see the parade but our on-board education “ringleader” Jay, told me that they were among the most enthusiastic group she has seen in a parade. In between sea songs the growling pirates frightened children whilst “mermaids” (generally our tall and hairy men on board) frightened grown men with kisses.

For our racing efforts, we won 3rd in our class – a huge improvement over our near dead-last placement after the first day of the race. We were also recognized for having the most nationalities on board any single vessel with 15 in total.  Our standing in the race is all the more noteworthy when one considers all the cultural and linguistic differences our crew have to face even before they can begin to race.  We have people on board from not just Holland, but the UK, Switzerland, Germany, Israel, Sweden, the Shetland Islands, US, Canada, Australia and even South Africa. The list goes on from there –a veritable menagerie to live within one ship!

Tomorrow is the day most of our trainees depart. Many of them have already expressed how much they enjoyed our adventure. Tomorrow they will leave and their bunks will be filled with new, wide-eyed trainees eager to see our sails unfurled and full.

Recently, Jay told me an interesting story about a conversation she had with the charismatic Gabriel Perez, Captain of Columbia’s Gloria. Apparently he was watching us as much as we were watching him during the race!

He said that his crew must have thought he was crazy, because he was always asking “Europa! Europa! How fast are they going? What is their course!” He said that they were taking pictures of us from afar then zooming in on them to analyze exactly how tight our sheets were, or at what angle our sails were.  He was even confused at one point, wondering why some of our staysail sheets were slackened, tightened and slackened again…he agonized about it, thinking it was some sneaky sailing trick we were pulling! (Though we were probably just training our trainees or being indecisive about sail trim!)

He even told his crew up forward to be on watch for the Europa to deploy its secret weapon, the extra sails, our studding sails! He said that when we set our studding sails, his crew came running back to him, exclaiming that, “The Europa has its secret weapons out!”

Our race with Gloria ended so closely, that we passed the finish line mere minutes ahead of her. Towards the end of the race he noticed us tack, and seeing our speed increase, he then wanted some of that speed for himself and ordered a tack likewise! But the time lost in tacking was enough for us to get ahead to the finish.

A fun race, especially when you know your competitors pay that much attention to you and your secret not-so-secret weapons! We look forward to another race after the Shetlands, but for now, our next voyage is a calmer cruise-in-company with the other ships northward to Lerwick, of the Shetland Islands.

To see photos from the Greenock Tall Ships, click here

 

After the Finish

08-07-2011 12:00

 

55.42.6′N x 5.18.1′W – Loch Ranza, Isle of Arran, Scotland

The race is finished and early at that. Our sails crossed the line at 13:23 (1:23pm) on the 5th. Columbia’s Gloria, our closest, constant competitor for the race, trailed us by a mere 5 minutes. We expect a good placement in the race, but the results will have to wait until the
official announcements in Greenock. I was surprised to see us finish ahead of Gloria, as I distinctly remember us scrambling to set our studding sails as she closed in behind us, looming larger every time I glanced backwards. She passed us just as we set our third and final studding sail but was unable to continue to plow ahead of us.  Our extra sails probably gave us just enough speed to keep up with (and eventually overtake) the much larger Gloria.

The lax wind of the 3rd and 4th gave way to a strong, steady, and fresh breeze. We knew this race to Scotland via the Irish Sea would not last long when we began to surge ahead at 9-10 knots with the wind behind our ears and the sea at our backs!

With the race finished so early, we found that we had several days extra to spend as we cannot enter Greenock until the morning of the 9th. Blowing past Greenock, we decided to move farther north, into the Scottish isles west of Glasgow for an exploratory expedition of sorts. Captain Klaas remembered a scenic island that he passed many times in earlier sailing days that he never had a chance to set foot upon.

We arrived at Isle Arran to find the sun half-buried behind an isle of green high hills with rust-red lichen that crowned southern stony-faced cliffs. Sailing slowly into the small harbor village of Lamlash, we dropped sail after sail, until coming to a stop on the leash of our
anchor, a rest for the night. We must have set a trend, for nearly a dozen tall ships followed us into the harbor over the next day to rest their sails near us.

We have since been in the vicinity of the Isle of Arran. We spent a day ashore to enjoy the coastal village and nearby castle, before weighing anchor and stopping shortly at the mainland at Irvine. We stopped there to pay a visit to an old ship, the City of Adelaide. A late 1800′s wool clipper, she primarily made her living bringing immigrants to Australia and wool to Britain on the return trip. Now, she lies mast-less atop a rusting slipway in the remnants of an old shipyard, her black and white hull streaked brown with the decay of ages. There is hope for the old sailor, as she is being bought and transported to Australia, apparently in time for Adelaide’s bicentennial birthday. Klaas made sure to take pictures so that he can check on the progress in person in a few years!

An afternoon sail from Irvine brought us north of Isle Arran, into West Kyle Loch, off the Isle of Bute for a night. This morning we set our sails skyward after breakfast for a short sail that brought us back to Isle Arran, where we are now nestled between the hills of Loch Ranza.
Apparently, a post-lunch walk, and perhaps barbeque braai await us before we go to Greenock for the festival tomorrow.

Besides a few showers, the weather has been peachy for our short daysails. I think our trainees are learning a lot more about sailing our bark by having to set, maneuver and dowse sail daily. More than anything else, they are getting good at the constant sailor activity of coiling our miles of line! They are also using our time in the sun to prepare an interesting crew parade. I won’t release details, because there are prizes to be won and other snooping crews on the internet, but the Greenock crew parade, and particularly our trainees, won’t be something to miss.

See you there?!

-Matthew Maples

TALL SHIPS AMERICA: The New Face of ASTA

TALL SHIPS AMERICA®
The new face of ASTA 

The American Sail Training Association was founded in 1973 by a small group of sailors and enthusiasts led by Barclay Warburton III, who had been so impressed by the European phenomenon of sail training that he wished to establish a similar movement inAmerica.  Little did our founders know how successful they would be! 

In the nearly forty years since our inception, the member fleet has grown to more than 200 vessels, our races and maritime festivals have reached millions of Americans, and our member programs now provide more than 1.9 million participant-days at sea each year.  ASTA is the hub for tall ships expertise, information and activity in North America.  Recognizing this success, the United StatesCongress has designated ASTA as the official sail training organization to represent the nation in the international forum. 

Now, we are proud to announce to our members, supporters and friends that we have adopted a new public identity: Tall Ships America.   Our mission is unchanged, and just as we have done since 1973, Tall Ships America will encourage character building through sail training, promote sail training to the North American public and support education under sail. 

As Tall Ships America, we will carry our proud mission forward under a bright new banner, one that will capture the imagination of the North American public for the 21^st century.  We hope you will sign aboard Tall Ships America for the next leg of this epic voyage – we are bound for distant horizons of adventure and education under sail.

Matt’s Back: To Greenock We Go

0415 – July 4th, 2011- 52°00.2′N x 6°46.7′W

The silhouette of the Gloria glides across our bow this morning, less than a mile ahead of us. Backlit against the first tatters of red morning light, Gloria is entirely black and featureless, as if cut from black paper and pasted onto the scene in front of us. Braced sharp and with nearly all sail set, she looks like she is going as fast as a tall ship in an antique store painting.

Only, she isn’t. Though glorious in sight, the Gloria may feel less than glamorous as she bobs about, crawling to cover ground in the wind-starved Irish Sea. Some liken the ocean to a “wet desert”; a shifting, featureless land where droughts come not from lack of moisture, but from an absence of wind. Equally starved, we on Europa sympathize with  Gloria; her tall masts and towering squares of canvas set in defiance of the absent wind and proudly pretending to be powerfully sailing.

This morning,  Gloria, our own Europa and 44 other tall ships strain for wind, seemingly bobbing like a motley collection of rubber ducky’s in a boundless bathtub. This is the beginning of day two of our first tall ship race of the season; certainly not a running start. The distance to cover, from Waterford, Ireland to Greenock, Scotland is a mere 215 miles away. That distance seems to loom larger for every hour spent sputtering at 0.8 knots.

There was at least a breeze of wind in the beginning of the race yesterday afternoon, just enough to slowly sail on. Our combined tall ship fleet of dozens fanned out from Waterford, some slowly overtaking others. Russia’s mighty Mir and Norway’s brilliant Sorlandet were among the ships that sailed with us, sometimes seeming no more than a stone’s throw away. This race has amassed a truly substantial fleet of square-riggers, schooners and sloops with Christian Radich, Lord Nelson, Eendracht and Astrid being some of their names. Sailing also are friends from summer races in the near past,  Tecla, Urania and Jolie Brise.

Even that original whisper of a breeze can seem substantial when one’s sails are flapping more like wings instead of sturdy wind-catching sails. We have time though, well enough for Fortune’s guaranteed changes, nearly a week of scheduled sailing lies ahead before Greenock.

However, this lack of wind brings its own opportunities as we watch our ships scramble for breeze en masse; a sight unlikely to be seen outside of a sailing race when we would all otherwise simply turn on our auxiliary engines and buzz away. Despite the lackluster winds, the ship crews are still competitive. I heard on the radio one officer asking another what the course and intentions of another were. The responding officer answered boldly that they intend to win the race and that meant they were over-taking them!

On board for this race we have a large complement of wide-eyed trainees,  many of them European youths of varying nationality on board a ship for the first time. They have been integrated into our crew and watch system and they are not only helping us with pulling ropes, setting sails and climbing aloft, but also with the other routines of shipboard life, namely cleaning and maintenance! Already, many went aloft into the rig for their first climb and were able to see eye-to-eye not only with our sails, but with the lofty masts of other ships in our fellow fleet.

Soon, hopefully,they will get to witness the power of our sails filled with a fresh breeze and see us move our whole floating community up the Irish Sea, whilst using nothing more for propulsion than canvas, wind and wave. A truly anachronistic and eye-opening experience in an age when even simple lawn-mowers have internal engines! It is an important lesson to understand the power inherent in natural forces and to use that power instead of fighting it.

To Greenock we go.

Matthew Maples