As the storm raged, 30 foot waves slammed into the bowsprit. The bow cleavered the ocean like butter, rising to the challenge of the seas constant onslaught. The rise and fall of the hull being compensated for by our rhythmic flexing at the knees. Everyone bending and leaning in synchronicity like puppets, all the while maintaining a grasp on something solid. The ships undulations spanned 45 degrees leaning in both directions side to side. The ship questing consistent equilibrium as the bow rose and fell 30 to 40 feet. Digging deep into the oceans troughs. It was exhausting just trying to stand anywhere on the ships decks, never mind trying to get a few photos, all the while I was shielding my camera’s lens from the constant blasts of corrosive salty ocean air.

 

Protectively I had enclosed my Nikon D 300 and Nikon D 80 in ziplock bags with only the very end of my lens protruding from the zippered ends. Cutting a small hole in the plastic bag where the viewfinder was, taping it in place so that I would have a clear view to the subject matter at hand. The biggest problem was keeping my lens free of salt spray when the 40 to 50 knot winds consisted more of water then air. My lens cloth, never leaving my gloved hand wiping between every shot. I had to pick my shooting locations in such a way that they were in the lea of the wind, yet still offering good compositional possibilities. Often trying to hide behind some structure on deck, and still manifesting some kind of viable composition. A tough quest, the deck did not have that many places to hide behind. On top of all of this, I am dealing with all the other difficulties. Like footing and hand holds. I had never had to shoot in such trying circumstances. It is hard enough getting a good image in a conventional setting without having to cope with all of this abysmal weather and shaky footing. I did get a bit frustrated at times, but then my personality is such, that I just persevere until I get what I think is a good shot. I have learned to exact great patience from myself to get the photos that I want. Especially when there is a dramatic event transpiring before me. “The time is nigh, deal with it” rings in my head……

The storm continued for 4 days with large swells tossing the ship around for a few days afterwords. Just trying to get some sleep despite feeling off color was tough enough. My roommate was unceremoniously ejected from the lower bunk twice, maybe 3 times while attempting sleep. My position was more precarious. Sleeping on the top bunk with a wash basin protruding from the wall below me. I could not afford to be thrown from my bed or I would have been decapitated by the sinks edge on the way to the floor. Not the best situation to have to worry about as desperate sleeplessness was assailing my deprived brain. So, with a bit of ingenuity, I lashed the never to be used ironing board to the side of my bed, using various old wire coat hangers stolen from my closet. That seemed to do the trick, leaving one less thing to be fretting about for now. 

 

Once the storms swells receded there became an opportunity for all the new ships crew ( myself included ), to begin a modicum of training. This ship ran by muscle power to manage the sails. Good climbing skills were a necessary development. We needed to be able to climb in all of the varied weather conditions that we might encounter, particularly during the worst weather, that is good sailing. Many of the new crew were very worried about the “up and over” training (climbing to the first platform of the mast, about a 1/3 of the way up, or about 40 feet, then back down the other side). This training is a requirement before any of the ships crew were allowed to go aloft. Once they passed the test, they were allowed to partake in the setting or dousing of the sails. As a ex rock climber, I was very excited to go up as high as they would let me! I just love being in situations like this, were you can see forever, with every bit of exposure viscerally evident. This gives me the feeling of being alive. The feeling you have while in a situation like this, is that part of you becomes hyper aware of where you are, and what you are doing. You are truly in the present moment, with your pulse thumping in your neck and temples. There is no room for errors. Grievous consequences to be had for the lack of focus, and complete attention is to be maintained through out. This for me brings the feeling of life strongly to the present, like nothing else can do. With the wind in your face and the snap, snap, sound of the sails filling with air, there is this anthropomorphic sense of riding a huge dragon from a mouse like perspective, just holding on for dear life.

My favorite vantage point was hanging around on the mast rigging near “the trees”. “The trees” being the second platform on the mast 2/3rds of the way up. The height at that point would be be close to 90 feet or 30 meters , with the total mast height being around 140 feet tall. From this vantage point I could see many of the crew working the sails below. The sea roiling by at a rapid pace, another 15 meters below them. What an exhilarating vantage point to have!