The TALL Ships
The tall ships are coming. The tall ships are coming.
When visiting our kids in Nahant, MA, a seaside peninsula town near Boston, we caught sight of some spectral schooners, their masts like skeletons and ghostly rope ladders, in the Atlantic Ocean off East Point. What a thrill!
We’d paid in advance on-line for five adults, and for a babe in utero - to sneak on as a stowaway. The plan, on June 19, 2017, was to enjoy a tour of the Lynx and cruise around Boston Harbor from 11:30 – 1:00.
We located our boat, walked across a short gangplank, and met Marc, early twenties, second mate with a deep tan, perfect white teeth, and hair pulled into a large, man bun. He said he’s been a seaman on and off for three years and is part of the six-man crew who all, basically, live on the boat.
Chloe, roughly nineteen, short in stature but with a sideways-tall smile, had been onboard for three days but she spent a couple months at sea before that. Chloe attends a maritime college and plans to captain a large barge someday for “lots of money”. She’s psyched about the prospect of “spending two and a half months – on. And, the same amount of time - off.”
Phil, another twenty something, first mate and engineer was tall and wiry with strawberry blonde hair and front teeth unsure of which direction to take. He wore a halter, and when we set sail, he scampered up and down the main mast like a monkey in the jungle. When he and the others were hoisting the sails, Phil appeared to be hooked to a bungee as he jumped up and down, working the ropes.
I asked Marc how his hands react to the ropes and he upturned his palms toward my son, Adam, and me, “We make our own gloves with callouses,” he said.
“Gloves are dangerous because they can get caught in stuff,” Adam added.
“That, and you can’t say to the captain, ‘Oh, wait a sec, I just have to grab my gloves,’” said Marc.
Hunter, the grizzled, barefoot cook, welcomed me into the galley, with the floor space of a small elevator. He said he’s been with this ship for three years but has worked for twenty years on nine boats total.
“Our crew tops at fourteen but there are usually between six to ten of us,” he said.
“What’s your specialty?”
“I cook everything from stir fry to roast beef, sausage, biscuits and gravy, to pancakes and from chicken piccata to macaroni and cheese. The crew’s favorite is enchilada day.”
From the galley, Hunter showed me the main salon with its four berths, small coal stove, large table, and short staircase leading to the deck.
“How old is this ship?”
“She’s sixteen,” he said “and the classiest and most beautiful boat I’ve ever worked on.”
Up top, Michele, a crew hand and a medic in training, showed the fifteen or so of us spectators where the personal floatation devices were stored.
“Safety is our number one priority. Please note that boom…,” she pointed to the big, black pole at the bottom of the sail, “is the last thing you hear before it knocks you unconscious.”
Captain Alex, at it for nine years, gave a presentation. “The Lynx is 120’ long and all wood, made from Angelique, a tropical hardwood from South America.” Alex told us his ship is based out of Nantucket, MA and has been to Hawaii, Cuba and throughout the Great Lakes. “The Lynx was the fastest Baltimore clipper of her time carrying lighter cargo - like perfume, silks and linens.” She was built without a blueprint, that’s how ships were built in the United States back then. The colonies had experienced shipbuilders but they worked without detailed schematics. “In 1812, she was captured by the British who took her apart to see how she was made. And, then they rebuilt her. This ship is a two-thirds sized replica of the original.”
At 80 degrees in the bright sun with 10 – 12 knots of wind, it was a gorgeous day to hear the captain shout his commands and have them relayed from stern to bow and back again by his crew as they scurried to raise the sails and climb the mast while I admired the wooden deck and barrels, mounds and coils of rope, and the ship’s movie-set appearance akin to “In the Heart of the Sea”.
Phil used smooshed bread and black powder to fire the six-pounder cannonade to salute a passing schooner and yes, we had to use our palms to cover our ears and even then, it was still deafening. I was tempted to cover my nose afterwards too because of the strong smell.
To hoist the 5,000 square feet of sails, my husband and sons were happy to help. Their hands, with the rope burns that followed, not so much.
On our return trip, after Captain Alex cut the engine, Phil used a motorized rubber raft to nose the bow of the ship to the landing dock where we crossed the gangplank once more.
