random shots
across the bow
Photos of adventures on the high seas (or at least, the low marsh).
All photos on this page were shot by me, unless otherwise specified. I've used my mighty fine Pentax K-1000 (best bare bones film camera ever built, according to Consumer Reports) with its lone 50mm lens, my Nikon Coolpix L-100 with its 15x optical zoom, my good ol' HP Photosmart with 3x optical Cannon zoom (online, $20), and a random assortment of cheesy throwaway cameras, waterproof and otherwise (they have very wide angle lenses which work great on the confines of a ship, lousy when you're trying to capture that Great Blue Heron half a mile away, they're handy, and you can shove them into a pocket, or the cleavage of your PFD.)
Sultana on the Bay
Photos from the September 26 expedition on Schooner Sultana (1768) from Chestertown to Annapolis. Click on Sultana's rigging to open a window to the photos.
Sailabration: Pride Turns 21
Photos from Sailabration 2009, the Pride of Baltimore's 21st birthday party and celebration of this 1812 privateer kicking butt in the Tall Ships Atlantic Challenge...
Virginia Pilot Clipper Schooner Catamaran Arrives in Chestertown for Downrigging Weekend
Ok, that's sailor humor. Click on the 'PilotClipperSchoonerCatamaran' for the whole tale.
Point Lookout lies at the mouth of the Potomac River. You can paddle a tidal marsh, the river's edge, or the vast reaches of the Chesapeake Bay.
Paddle This
A few years ago, a friend (one Nancy Springer (Connor) took me along to her friend's cabin in the Adirondacks. She waxed eloquent about the sea kayaks, available for exploration of Franklin Falls Pond (the "ponds" of New York being rather larger than most lakes in PA). I snorted something about taking my snorkeling gear; floatin' boats were to jump off of to look at the sunken boats. I took my mask and fins, and discovered the visibility was approximately to my elbow.
"Sooooo, what about those floatin' boats?"
I got in one, and didn't get out of it for the rest of the week. By the next spring I had aquired nearly eighteen feet of bright blue plastic I dubbed "Makenuk's Fin". "Makenuk" is a badly Anglicized version of the Kwakiutl word for orca (the character in the "swordwhale" logo is Kwakiutl, at least in this lifetime). Cultures with seals have legends of Sealfolk who take off their fins to walk on land in human form, a whale version of this legend is found on the northwest coast of North America; the Whale-folk take off their fins to walk on land... the fin becomes the boat.
A wetsuit and scuba gear is the "sealskin" of the explorer of Planet Water. The small, seaworthy, agile, fast, efficient kayak is the "fin" that reconnects us to the feel of the waves, the wonder of what's around the next bend, the sound of seabirds, the hidden nest, the sudden surprise of fins surfacing at paddle length (dolphins, cownosed rays). A kayak is much like the horses I grew up on: an extension of your own body, you feel the shape of the water, the direction of the wind, the way the bottom comes up under you in the shallows.
Here are a few of my favorite "random shots over the bow" of Makenuk's Fin. For more, click on the bow of "Makenuk's Fin" (photo, left).
"Sooooo, what about those floatin' boats?"
I got in one, and didn't get out of it for the rest of the week. By the next spring I had aquired nearly eighteen feet of bright blue plastic I dubbed "Makenuk's Fin". "Makenuk" is a badly Anglicized version of the Kwakiutl word for orca (the character in the "swordwhale" logo is Kwakiutl, at least in this lifetime). Cultures with seals have legends of Sealfolk who take off their fins to walk on land in human form, a whale version of this legend is found on the northwest coast of North America; the Whale-folk take off their fins to walk on land... the fin becomes the boat.
A wetsuit and scuba gear is the "sealskin" of the explorer of Planet Water. The small, seaworthy, agile, fast, efficient kayak is the "fin" that reconnects us to the feel of the waves, the wonder of what's around the next bend, the sound of seabirds, the hidden nest, the sudden surprise of fins surfacing at paddle length (dolphins, cownosed rays). A kayak is much like the horses I grew up on: an extension of your own body, you feel the shape of the water, the direction of the wind, the way the bottom comes up under you in the shallows.
Here are a few of my favorite "random shots over the bow" of Makenuk's Fin. For more, click on the bow of "Makenuk's Fin" (photo, left).
Right about now you should be humming the theme from "Jaws"... The first fin surfaced at the end of my paddle blade. "Should I poke it away? Probably not. Should I turn around and flee?" I wasn't in a seal colony, they were hunting fish, not Sea Lions (furry or plastic, like mine). I kept paddling and soon noticed that the fins of obviously cartiliginous fish were appearing in pairs. Cartiliginous yes, sharks, no. Cownosed rays of large size, hunting crabs.
The Pride of Baltimore II's foremast and square topsail yards (the meteor was real, but I had to add it on Photoshop) shot from the deck at night with a Pentax K1000 on tripod, while we rode at anchor off Eastern Neck Island MD.
Vikings, Pirates, Privateers and Pungies
I grew up on Flipper, Sea Hunt and Cousteau specials. I wanted to go underwater, scooting across the surface wasn't all that appealing; even when I went swimming, it was mostly underwater. Then several films featuring tall ships hit the theaters; Master and Commander (based on the Patrick O'Brien books), Peter Pan, and the first "Pirates of the Caribbean" film. Curious about how real tall ships worked (even though I'd technically been sailing on one since the early 80s with the Longship Company) I accompanied "Captain Dave" (it's his fault I ended up on a longship on the Potomac for six days in 1984) and family to Baltimore for a tall ship festival. We toured Capitan Miranda, Bluenose II, and others. Then we boarded the water taxi and...
...I rounded the corner and fell in love. The object of my artistic "whoooooaaaa!" was a lean, water-hugging cutlass bladed hull topped with two masts raked like she was doing warp eleven sitting at the dock. She was the Pride of Baltimore II, a reproduction of the wicked swift and agile privateering vessels with which a young America made its mark in 1812. I would come back later to sail on her, and a few of the other historic vessels of the Chesapeake Bay. Here are a few "random shots over the bow" of ships whose hulls speak the language of the sea, and whose rigging sings in the wind.
...I rounded the corner and fell in love. The object of my artistic "whoooooaaaa!" was a lean, water-hugging cutlass bladed hull topped with two masts raked like she was doing warp eleven sitting at the dock. She was the Pride of Baltimore II, a reproduction of the wicked swift and agile privateering vessels with which a young America made its mark in 1812. I would come back later to sail on her, and a few of the other historic vessels of the Chesapeake Bay. Here are a few "random shots over the bow" of ships whose hulls speak the language of the sea, and whose rigging sings in the wind.
In 2007, while most people were dressing as pirates, I spent Halloween on a pirate ship. well, technically privateer. I signed up for a Guest Crew passage (Baltimore to Chestertown) on the Pride of Baltimore II (inexpensive, and no sailing experience necessary). We putt-putted out of Inner Harbor and began throwing canvas into the air. Under full sail, we passed under the Francis Scott Key (rockets red glare...) Bridge, horns honked, small boats came close, cameras deployed. I looked up and said, "Whoa, this is The Picture. The Picture from the books, T-shirts, postcards. I can't take The Picture, because I'm IN IT!" I pulled out my cheesy throwaway camera and took this series of shots from mast tip to deck. Camera parallax (the perspective shifts as you aim higher) made it impossible to join the shots, so I did a montage. I sent some of the best shots to pride.org to share and use.
Next April we went to Baltimore for Privateer Day. I collected some brochures, had fun went home. It was only a few days later I realized Pride.org had liked this one well enough to use it on their Privateer Society brochure cover!
Next April we went to Baltimore for Privateer Day. I collected some brochures, had fun went home. It was only a few days later I realized Pride.org had liked this one well enough to use it on their Privateer Society brochure cover!
Take the Helm, Mr. Sulu
Steering a horse, or a kayak, or a forty foot Viking Longship is one thing, but pointing a hundred foot ship in the right direction (it's heavily affected by wind and current) is another. As Guest Crew, you get to do pretty much everything the regular crew does: squeegee the gunnels (dew messes up the varnish), eat great food, stand watch at midnight, haul on lines, feel the sun and wind and silence of the Bay rushing by under the hull, check the bilges, and at least once, they let you drive the boat. Megan (the tall girl to the left) has crewed on various vessels, including Pride and the Lady Washington (that's the ship Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom steal in the first "Pirates" film; the "Interceptor" played by the Lady Washington). She points out various small blits I should be steering for. Suggests a half turn of the wheel this way or that. I turn the wheel and the great black unicorn horn of the bowsprit, nearly a hundred feet away, swings maddenly in the wrong direction. "Do you feel that?" How the ship turns her head up into the wind when it rises. Your world is reduced to one hundred feet of deck... and to the whole limitless horizon. You pay attention to the shape of the clouds on that horizon. To the slight, distant shape of hull or mast. To the feel of the wind. The ship is more like a living thing than a piece of technology: she creaks and groans, she flies across the water like it isn't there, her rigging sings in the wind. The actual work of catching that wind requires muscle power and coordination of many people, but it's green energy, free for the taking.
(photos of Megan and me at the helm by Pride crew)
(photos of Megan and me at the helm by Pride crew)
"In a civilized country, like where I come from," said Eustace, "the ships are so big that when you're inside you wouldn't know you were at sea at all."
"In that case, you might just as well stay ashore," said Caspian.
(Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader)
