Up and stow

“Jimmy!” came the rapturous welcome from a mostly unknown complement of crew, in the midst of dangling off the ship’s yards unfurling sail, as I dragged my two bags onto the dock where the Picton was berthed. This was a call sign, unbeknown to me at this point, that I would get to know quite well. Regardless of the anxieties of the previous week, I had made it to Nova Scotia on the flight I had originally booked – on time, in one piece and according to plan. Smiles all round.

As one of the latest new arrivals on the ship (the other trainees had already been on board two weeks), I had unwittingly already made quite a big impression on my fellow crew members, especially on the guys with whom I would be sharing a cabin in the fore of the vessel (known as “The Bro Cave”). It turned out that Jimmy had already been living on the ship for some time in the form of a strangely true to life red drawing of a stick man attached to my bunk. During this time, he was toasted to on a regular basis and blamed for just about everything, good and bad, that happened on the ship. Both a messiah and a scapegoat I now had the tough job of living up to the prohibitively high standards my red stick man predecessor had set before me. Practically everyone excitedly shouts out Jimmy at least once every five minutes or whenever something gets lost, broken or stolen. I require no introduction for my name precedes me always. Nonetheless I’d be lying if I said I didn’t kinda like it.

My initial thinking that I would at least meet a couple of people who would irritate the shit out of me more quickly than a laxative infused vindaloo, seems at least to date to have been unfounded. The crew and trainees really are composed of a whole spectrum of people from all walks and stages of life. The professional crew on board have the requisite patience to cope with the stupidity of a completely new recruit such as myself and inspire a culture of continuous interactive learning and practice. This is paramount to the progress of those signing up into the maritime ways of tall ship sailing. It is a steep but rewarding learning curve. And we are all in the same boat together. Sorry.

The other trainees each have their own unique stories to tell. Mostly North American with a spattering of people from Europe and South Africa, some are dab hands at tall ship sailing while others, like myself, have absolutely no experience whatsoever. The trainees include recently graduated uni students, a shop owner from the West Country, a Canadian paramedic and even a scientist (-cum-primary school teacher) who was once stationed at America’s South Pole research base in Antarctica. By some strange twist of fate, a fellow red headed Brit is on board the ship and, like me, on a career break from KPMG. We get around. Many of the shipmates are young, but some are in their 40s and 50s and still only too keen for that ultimate adventure. I am very much enjoying getting to know them and am impressed and inspired by what many have done with their lives.

The work on the ship is hard but enjoyable. I wake up every day at 7 to start work at 8. Those of you who know me will realise what an achievement getting up at this hour really is for me. I have been tempted more than once to switch my watch back to UK time (4 hours ahead) to ease the pain. Indeed on my first day where I was required to get up at 6 to provide help to the ship’s galley, it was only after I woke up and started getting dressed that I realised that it was actually 2am and I had forgotten to set my alarm clock to Canadian time. Like a bear with a sore head, I staggered back into my bunk only partially in touch with my own sanity and consciousness.

So far my duties on board have been varied. All the work is manual labour and I am finding it strangely therapeutic. Although I managed to last until Thursday without doing any painting, while waiting for the toilet on Monday I sat on a freshly painted red rail which has left a nice fat mark on the bottom of my coat. This is now brought to my attention continuously even by random passers by on the street. Yes, I know I have a big red mark across my ass. I did it a week ago. Thank you.

Other than painting, I have helped clear out and organise the hold with all the goodies one might require on a world voyage. I have also helped to package books we will be donating to under privileged children in many of the destinations on the voyage. I have taken photos of some of the more interesting items for your viewing pleasure below.

There are around 140 lines on the vessel which I am learning slowly but surely. Every day as I get more acquainted with the ship I am definitely feeling less and less stupid, but I still regularly find myself doing idiotic things, which are usually met with the usual animated shout of “Jimmy!” spreading across the ship like a Mexican wave. I have also already been working aloft a fair bit. It was not as much of an issue as I thought it would be. The ship’s boson did the “up and over” test with me and was very matter of fact about the whole thing to the point I hardly felt nervous at all. The test effectively determines whether you are competent and confident enough to work in the rigging. Unfurling sail aloft in the wind yesterday was both exhilarating and at times slightly terrifying. Good job I packed lots of extra pairs of underpants.

Although working aloft has its moments, I have spent a significant amount of time working in the ship’s head rig. This is an area to which four sails are attached at the fore of the ship and which you reach by climbing out on rigging nets directly over the ocean. The rigging itself is made up of tarred ropes netted in roughly 30cm squares. I have already missed placing my foot on the ropes a couple of times, and although I am not concerned about falling in, slipping on these things could do some serious damage to a bloke’s dangly bits and dignity, the thought of which makes me wince even now. I’m sure it will happen at some point. I will scream like a girl. And probably sound like one for the rest of the week.

Yesterday was my best day on the ship so far. After a morning of sail and emergency drills (I am official fire extinguisher retriever and rescue boat releaser in case of a fire and man overboard respectively) we were invited to attend the wedding of two previous crew members on the ship. Buddy, who I met on the ship in September, was marrying Nicky, who I met the weekend before. The wedding was unconventional in every respect and was one of the best I have ever had the pleasure of attending. In spite of a continuously wet and cold week preceding it, the ceremony took place under glorious blue skies.

The official attire was marlinspike. The first marlinspike event on the voyage, the trainees threw themselves into the spirit of things with a gusto that is to be admired, myself included. Marlinspike comprises basically anything which looks strange, wacky, naff or just plain crap. Weird hats, psychedelic shell suits, bin bag dresses and tin foil hats were all welcomed on the day and proved great for shits and giggles. Many of the photos below give you the idea.

The wedding itself may have been unconventional in many ways, but it certainly didn’t defy convention in terms of drinking. We all more than lived up to the drunken sailor label partying all day in numerous locations around Lunenburg. Although I had only known my shipmates a week, we were all getting along like one rather large happy family. I made some great memories, although they are a bit sketchy beyond 10pm. Indeed we were trying to piece the end of the night together this morning and failed dismally.

True to form (particularly while I am overseas and drunk), I lost my wallet and a packet of cigarettes. On this occasion, however, my luck was in as both were found and returned to me the following day. Although I am famed for being a complete dick head with my own belongings, I feel as though I am with kindred spirits on the Picton as people seemed to be losing their belongings left right and centre all night. It was brilliant! Someone who temporarily lost their camera had it returned to them only to find a picture of another dude’s ball sack on it. Someone else lost two pairs of shoes (don’t ask me how). And another chap lost his dignity as he stumbled off some steps like an elephant on an escalator giving himself a black eye in the process. Whoops! It’s all good fun until someone… well you know the rest.

Many of you will know that I learnt about this adventure during my time in Russia. Every Friday night I would watch a TV show called Tall Ship Chronicles providing an account of the Picton’s voyage around the world in 2000. It was only after watching five or six instalments that I did more research into doing a voyage such as this one, and discovered that I could actually join the Picton on its voyage this year. The show’s presenter was in attendance at the wedding and I was privileged enough to spend some time with him and bombard him with questions about the ship, the show and life in general. I was ever so slightly star struck.

The voyage departure date has been put back to 8 May which is next Saturday. I am excited by the thought that this time next week I will be bobbing about somewhere in the North Atlantic. I am also looking forward to the temperature rising as we edge nearer the Caribbean. Getting up at 7am hurts, but getting up at 7 when the temperature is hovering only just above freezing is a whole different kettle of fish. The next week will be spent on final preparations for the voyage and I will be applying myself solidly to learn the ropes and the lingo so that I won’t be a total disaster area when we set sail on Saturday. Avast!


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