Underway

Ducking Squalls and Grilled Duck Breast

I wrote before of the hosting skills of the pair commanding this vessel, and things have gone from the ridiculous to the sublime. Last night was grilled duck breast, and polenta, and it was one of the best meals I have had anywhere. Period. So I've got that goin' for me.

Here's something else I have going for me:

Above is a photo taken on my first mid-watch stood since I was on the USS VELLA GULF (CG 72) watchbill in 1997. That's the moon! It was a gorgeous night.

My compatriots are on a 3 on, 9 off schedule, which means they stand watch at different times each day. Because I am mostly a liability when it comes to the business of sailing, I proposed to stand a single formal watch from midnight to 0600, in order to be available for conversation and whatever non sail oriented help I can render. We were on the diesels overnight last night, so I felt very comfortable with what I know. During the day I am around to contribute where I can.

There is an awful lot going on here. Sailors are perfectionists, I have determined, and the tiniest bit of flapping (or luffing, as they say) raises the hackles of the watch as it means we are not exacting every bit of energy from the wind. I look up at the massive mast of this vessel and see all manner of contrivances devoted both to its stabilization and the transfer of thrust to the hull. I understand little of it, but ask questions and gain a bit of insight here and there.

Today (Saturday) the weather has turned a bit after two days of really beautiful sailing. We've already had to deal with a few squalls, in which I see four experienced sailors working together in the blink of an eye to do whatever is required to either make use of the wind or make less use of high winds. I was familiar with the “mainsail" and the “jib", but they've put out a “code zero" which I learned about last night. Lot to learn here. During these well-choreographed efforts, I stand by the Raymarine ready to insert a man overboard mark and perform a few other emergency actions.

You might think a man who commanded a destroyer would feel somehow minimized being underway without deep knowledge of the means of propulsion. I am not that man. I have a pretty clear understanding of what my skills and talents are, and sailing is simply not among them. I'm working to address this shortfall, and I am making slow and steady progress.

One thing more about sailors, and this one is a little bit of a poke. They are KNOT crazy. I get that knots are critical. I get that they know a lot of knots. But man, it always looks to me like they are attempting some sort of modern art scupture, to include several different modalities to accomplish the same job.

More tomorrow.

Tomorrow

It is now tomorrow, or Sunday. Things improved yesterday weatherwise, and we've made good progress. The seas and winds are more chippy than our first two days, but the sun is shining and we're riding mostly ok. There is a world of difference between ten knots in five foot seas in a nine thousand ton destroyer and those same ten knots in a 52 foot sailboat. Typing this is a bit of a chore, and the simplest moves from the wheel to the head must be pursued with intentionality, or one will wind up ass over teakettle on the deck.

My guess is that we get to Fishing Bay midday Tuesday, but time/distance calculations on a sailboat (with sails raised) carry a larger error budget due to forces beyond our control.

We had yet another gourmet meal last night, a chicken curry that was professional in quality. My midnight to 6AM watches continue, and I think my shipmates appreciate the extra person during the tender hours.

We should be abeam Hatteras Island tonight, and then I imagine both the traffic and the weather are going to get sportier. The only saving grace of bad weather during the Hampton Roads transit will be fewer recreational boaters, although I would not deny them a good day for fishing.

In other news, I read earlier where the Pope has spoken out about nationalism. More, faster, please, Pope Leo.