<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

Christopher Columbus tall ships race from Boston to Liverpool England by Paul Nixon<\/p>\n

Adventure aboard a Tall Ship (1992)<\/p>\n

One day while reading a sea history magazine, an advertisement in one of the back pages caught my
\nattention. A replica 19th century Brigantine ship sailing up from Australia was advertising for crew
\nmembers to come join her as part of a sail training adventure. Sailing half way around the world, it would
\njoin a fleet of tall ships and participate in the celebrations of the 500 anniversary of Christopher
\nColumbus in the USA. Not only that, but this ship the Soren Larsen had been featured in many successful
\nmovies and a BBC series The Onedin Line that I watched in earnest on TV from 1971-1980. As soon as I
\ngot home I got on the phone to Australia. Questions that were asked of me were, “Can I swim.” No.”
\n“Are you afraid of heights?” “Yes”. Not looking good so far? Eventually when it came down to cash
\nmoney I was accepted.
\nThe day I signed aboard in Boston harbor, Prince Philip had arrived to greet the crew and wish us all
\nevery success in winning a Trans Atlantic race with 86 other tall ships. The nautical distance of 3300
\nmiles to Liverpool would take us four weeks to cross. An attractive Australian girl on board by the name
\nof Jocelyn Forbes took me under her wing; she was a veteran sailor having sailed with this ship since the
\nbeginning a year prior.
\nI remember so well the thrill on the day when all of the tall ships were led out of Boston Harbour
\nfollowed by anything that could pretty well float just to be able to participate on that historical day.
\nBecause of a late supply delivery, the Soren was the last ship to leave the harbor.
\nAs we finally set out to the cheer of thousands, we were met by the USS Constitution (old iron side); one
\nof the original of six US frigates with 44 guns built in 1794 and granted its name by President
\nWashington. Having led the parade of sail out into deep water, she was now returning to her dock. The
\nbig thrill came in passing her; when with her guns run out, she gave us a broadside of her cannon. These
\nwere the same guns that fired on Barbary pirates and English ships back in the day. The pounding
\npercussion emanates an eardrum rattling boom and a dense cloud of smoke. This gave us all a real sense
\nof what it felt like to be on the wrong side of her during her heyday.<\/p>\n

In heavy fog the next morning we fumbled our way around an unfamiliar deck. Out in deep water it was
\nimpossible to see your hand in front of your face. From all directions horns and ships bells tolled their
\nwarning in the muffled gloom creating an uncanny setting. Suddenly on the third day out of nowhere a
\nstorm came out of the fog and caught the Soren under full canvas. All of a sudden it drove her fast
\nthrough building waves. The hull groaned in tune with the wailing cordage. Polished timbers that were
\nlong retired from northern woodlands lamented their age in moans and whines. White water poured over
\nthe bows, deluged the deck, and foamed on the barriers of the decks obstacles. Swelling and billowing
\nsheets of canvas strained by the power of the gale began to shred and rip. The vessel heeling with the roll
\nof the ocean, this sudden upheaval caught everyone aboard by surprise. Dishes clashed. Drinks, spilled
\nand bodies piled upon one other. There were some minor injuries which were quickly attended. I
\nremember looking up through the hatchway as men scrambled upward into the rigging against a violent
\nwind to pull down sails clinging to rope, their own clothes ballooning with an effort to pull them from the
\nrigging into the boiling froth. Safety ropes were quickly wrapped around each of our waists, whether you
\nwere experienced or not , you were needed on deck to assist those in needs. Hauling on wet ropes great
\nwaves and foam crashed over the bow and our heads leaving us constantly waist deep in water. Then a
\nhuge wave dislodged my footing and carried me like a helpless baby the safety lines length halfway along
\nthe deck when the security of the ropes attachment jerked me to a sudden stop. Spitting out seawater I
\nhauled myself back to my position with the assistance of others. We would have lost men if the crew had
\nhadn’t secured stout lifelines rigged fore and aft. Our ship pitched and rolled disappearing into deep
\ntroughs and rising again high on a crest only to fall into the next depression. At times the crests ahead
\nseemed so immense I began to wonder if the ship could even mount them?
\nThrough fog, storm and all the Atlantis had to offer, we found ourselves in the lead guided by an
\nexperienced skipper who took advantage of the gale allowing it to propel us far ahead of the fleet. For the
\nmonth that passed within close confinement with 40 other crew members, we created our own unique
\nworld. The ship offered a wonderful venue of teamwork and human encounters, but she also demanded
\nconstant attention, alertness and vigilance. All works were shared responsibilities as they were<\/p>\n

continuous. For the first four days I was assigned to galley duty. The galley is a magical hub of activity
\nthat is the social center and heart of the ship; however this can be a challenging affair particularly with
\nrough seas. With the ship lurching violently it’s no mean feat to get boiling water into coffee and tea pots,
\nand then there are the second helpings of the watch crew who pass their plates for more stew which turns
\nyour stomach, and all you want to do is throw up. The evening meal too had its challenges as in leaving
\nthe galley you had to negotiate the stairways with loaded trays of boiled potatoes, cooked tuna freshly
\ncaught earlier that day. As I side stepped to the motion of the ship maintaining a balancing act I rejoiced
\non my achievement of delivering the food to a cheering crew. The midnight shift (12 to 4 am) or
\ngraveyard shift consists of baking bread for the following day where there is a keen competition on board
\nto bake the best bread to which each shift has the opportunity to devour one of the loaves while fresh and
\nhot before retiring for the night. This was done continuously on the voyage where they are served up for
\nbreakfast the following day. It was also here at the time that all of the world’s problems and political
\nmisgivings were resolved.
\nOn the fifth day I was assigned to watch duty. Every four days my shift changed to where I experienced a
\nfull 24 hour rotation. Each watch had a certified officer in charge and on this voyage we are working four
\nhours on and eight hours off so that if you do the forenoon watch from 0800 to noon, you also do the so
\ncalled first watch-2000 to midnight. The passing of time is marked every half hour throughout the day and
\nnight by strokes of the ships bell which is right foreword hanging on the forestay. At the change of each
\nwatch eight bells were struck in four pairs. Back in the day each half hour was measured by a 30 minute
\nhour glass. It’s a time honored system and hearing its unique tone struck on a ship at sea is as redolent as
\nthe cry of a seabird.
\nThroughout the remaining part of the voyage I would take to the rigging just to see the open sea high on
\nthe earth’s curve and feel her breath on my face. At night in a small dark cabin shared by three others
\nwith the creaking timbers and the ocean swishing its action just a few inches on the other side of the
\nwood planking, quickly put everything in perspective. My favorite time for working was the morning
\nwatch from midnight to 0400 and from 0400 to 0800. After midnight when I was alone on bow watch<\/p>\n

with each lunge from the ship as her sails pressed her from trough to trough, its pounding impact would
\ncast white phosphorous spray onto me and the surrounding deck, illuminating its contact with millions of
\nflickering starlight’s that faded in an instance. In the dark water dolphins and shoals of fish can be seen in
\nstreaks of blue, red and crimson. The effect of the shower light which falls from the shiny scales is very
\nalluring indeed. In that moment I felt I was in the lead alone on a timeless journey in the middle of an
\nocean enchanted by her spell.
\nEventually we arrived off the south west coast of Ireland. Of all the places in the world for turbulent
\nwaters, the Atlantic that day became like a mill pond. Curious dolphins arrived, their play slapping the
\ntranquil surface, its sound echoing in the calmness. 26 miles off the Irish coast a small finch and a
\nbutterfly seek refuge in the rigging. To cross the finish line we had to pass Carransore Point off the coast
\nof Wexford just 20 miles away. However with no wind we sat there riding the current. In three hours we
\ngained six miles. On the second night at 3:30 AM just two miles from the finish line I was awakened from
\nmy bunk and told that I was on duty and to go to the helm. I remember in the quiet darkness accompanied
\nwith a gentle breeze and a low keyed conversation with some crew members and my skipper. It was if we
\nwere respecting the solemnity of the ocean, I struggled with the wheel to keep her on course. Another
\nshift was about to come on with the finish line within eye distance, I soon handed the wheel over to my
\nreplacement. An objection among the crew supported by the skipper intervenes on my behalf saying,”
\nThe Irish man given that we are on off the coast of his homeland should be given the honor of finishing
\nthis race.” By now everyone on board had been awakened and on deck. 4:15 AM I steer the Soren Larsen
\nto victory, crossing Carransore Point to the applause of all on board. This was quickly followed by hot
\ntoddies and champagne. Heading north up St. Georges Channel the next morning, two pigeons circled
\noverhead then landed on the main yard arm. Soon, in traditional sailor’s fashion, we sailed into Liverpool
\naloft on the yardarms to the welcomed cheers of over 100,000,000 spectators reliving the heyday, the<\/a>