Captain’s log
Springtime in the shed
It’s Good Friday in the world outside the gate of the rigging shed, inside it’s just another day. If it wasn’t a big Christian holiday, many of us wouldn’t know the day of the week. Life on a ship is measured in weeks or months and occasionally minutes or seconds but rarely days of the week. The crew, for the most part, work straight through from April into October, dedicating their summer to the service of Canadian icon Bluenose and Bluenose II.
The first day of the season
Snow — you’ve got to be kidding me. Is this an unfunny April Fools joke? I came aboard this morning early, by myself. Dragging the gangway across the wharf I was reminded of an alumni’s comments about a snowy gangway being a “Lunenburg bobsled”. Bob sledding was added to the Olympics in 1924 so maybe Capt. Angus and his crew, excited by a new sport, pushed a gangway along a wharf. I was not so excited as I pivoted the length of the gangway perpendicular to the wharf and the ship.
Back to Lunenburg for more public cruises
I’m sitting in the chart room listening to the chatter on deck as visitors question our deckhands. Who, what, when, where, why? How big, long, heavy, what type of wood? The crew are mostly old hands at answering questions now, they forget that a mere three or four months ago they likely couldn’t have identified a Banks schooner from a barque. Life aboard a ship is immersive and all consuming. We often speak a different language; we process time and distance differently and sometimes are lost in life ashore. On a ship, decisions are often made quickly, and consequences are lived with.