Summer's Balancing Act

       This summer I hate boating!  In reality it’s not the boating I loathe, but the work involved repairing, upgrading and preparing for one more year sailing off into the sunset.  In our experience sailing off into the sunset should be rephrased to sailing into the sunrise, as the crew of Imagine is usually up before dawn ready to sail as soon as we can see the anchor in the predawn murkiness.  But that won’t be happening for another month or more. 

Working on head

A detour with a torn meniscus followed by arthroscopic surgery has slowed the summer’s refit progress.  Days of rain, and days of rain, and more days of rain have slowed it even more. As work commences I reminisce selling our perfectly good and much newer 36-foot boat No Bad Days for Imagine back in 2004.  That decision eventually led to a massive refit that lasted nearly three years as we tore up and put down new decks, bow and cabin top on our leaky teaky. 

At the time I didn’t want to spend the nearly $75,000 estimate to have professionals fix the boat. Neither did my husband Ed, Mr. Frugal.  Both the price and principle drove us into a false sense of “it would be a piece of cake.”  NOT!  Perseverance, a few cuss words, and many hours later we began to see a light at the end of the tunnel.  During the long process family and friends dubbed the boat as the USS Neversail and Mr. Frugal became Captain Go Nowhere.  We did however save $69,000.

On the last day of October in 2009, Imagine sailed away.  Skies were heavy with gray, spitting intermittent rain that followed us down the Chesapeake Bay for the next three days.  It didn’t dampen our spirits as we began our travels on a road not paved.  It would be a wet one marked with buoys, day makers, waypoints and lighthouses.  This fall we begin our fifth year spending our time upon the water.

Living on a boat takes its toll.  Maintenance is ongoing.  Some things can be put off for a while, while others such as a new bilge pump can mean life or death if a boat begins taking on water.   We replaced the main bilge that failed this spring as well as a shower bilge that failed a year ago.   The shower drain was bypassed into our main bilge that seemed to work until the odor began.   A bilge pump does not remove a hundred percent of standing water. Some shower water lingered and created a stench of rotten meat.  Dead skin cells mixed with soap scum and salty water can get pungent overnight.  That won’t be a problem anymore!  

The head now has a new floor with ceramic tile, a new stand for the head, a rebuilt head, new head hoses, a re-glassed holding tank, plus a newly painted head and shower.  Both the previous head stand and floor was deteriorating. The old head hoses were cemented with mineral deposits that adhered to the inside of the hose over the years leaving less than a half inch of partly occluded space for waste to pass. 

The overhead has yet to be taken down so that the cabin top deck hardware can be re-bedded.  The porthole frames are in the process of being removed and re-bedded as well as the outer deck hardware.  And of course the bright work will need more varnish.  Ed has been working on the shaft and will be replacing a loose cutlass bearing. 

Boat Blisters

The biggest challenge, and most disheartening, which makes me hate boating are the blisters above the waterline on the hull.  Nearly 400 of the little blisters had to be opened sanded, filled and sealed.   I call them age spots.   These little blisters are common on classic plastic boats like Imagine.  Usually they appear on the bottom due to osmosis in places where miniscule air pockets formed between the laminate and gel coating during the boat building process.  Working on scaffolding and ladders with full-face respirators and protective white jumpsuits make for uncomfortable summer work. 

After much sanding, fairing and taping, two coats of primer went on rather easily.  Sanding between coats did not.  Did I say I hate sanding? Unfortunately the priming highlighted several areas where shallow bumps appear.  The fairing wasn’t perfect. In the interest of sailing again this millennium, we decided to move on with the imperfections.   Did I mention that with marine paint you should only work between 9 and 4 a.m. on days when humidity is 85 percent or under?  Also make sure there is no rain forecast for several hours after painting.

In the midst of all I feel like a rope in a unending game of tug of war being pulled from all directions.  I want to spend time with grandchildren, friends and family.  I have to take care of myself as well as work on the boat.  I love sailing and the carefree live we lead upon the water, the work to maintain that lifestyle, not so much.   Taking time for myself and getting non boat stuff done has helped get me through a summer of feeling angry that we have this level of boat work to do.

I’ll feel great when it is done.  The money saved by doing the work ourselves will pay for at least another year of cruising.  It’s about sacrifice and balance.  Year five looms and decisions will be made as to whether it will be our final year or a jump off time to go back into a land based world of work and status quo.  Here’s to decisions, balance and sunny days.

A Garden Grows in Sharptown

Beautiful exotic flowering plants or farm fresh produce might come to mind when one thinks of a garden.  In reality a garden offers so much more.  A garden is a lesson in history, economics and science.  A garden teaches patience and offers rewards.  It heals the soul and provides a means of expression. For many a garden brings nostalgia and serves as a reminder of the heritage that so many have shared.

A Sharptown Garden

Golden sunflowers reaching towards heaven, orderly rows of corn standing at attention, tomato vines clinging on supports, along with peppers, lima beans and other assorted vegetables have thrived in Jim Sparks’ Sharptown garden more than 60 years.  Those who regularly drive down County House Road in Salem County may have noticed that the garden contours have moved from year to year but each spring Dad’s 1946 cherry red Farmall Cub tractor chugs on. 

The antique tractor was the smallest tractor manufactured by International Harvester in Louisville, Kentucky from the late 1940’s through 1981.  Today International Harvester has become part of Case IH.  Dad explained once that J. P. Morgan merged the Morgan Harvesting Machine Company with the Deering Harvesting Company and some other smaller companies to form International Harvester at the turn of the 20^th century.  Jerome Case began his Chicago Company in 1863 and introduced the first steam engine tractor.  Case purchased International Harvester a little over a century later in 1985.

Jim and Tom Cleary Planting

At 82, the quintessential gardener walks among the rows somewhat thinner and a little more stooped than in years past.  Up at dawn he heads out to the garden that has beckoned him for as long as I can remember. One of my earliest memories was of Dad showing me how to train the fragile shoots of lima bean vines around the baling twine and cedar pole supports.  The poles are now permanent iron pipes and the twine has given away to a heavy gauge steel wire.

 Last week I arrived to find Dad kneeling with a five gallon bucket picking burp-less cucumbers and tomatoes.  He had pulled a few weeds that were threatening to take over after the copious amounts of rain earlier this summer.  The weeds competed with Dad’s precious crops for nutrients and water.   As we moved down the row of cucumbers clinging upright on poles that gave way to the lima beans, I bent on the opposite side of the row and began pulling weeds from the moist wet soil.   The sun kissed our faces and backs as we slowly moved down the row shaking and beating excess soil from the roots of the weeds as Dad taught me as a child.   “You have to get all the dirt off so the plant will die and not get a second life,” he explained as he did so many years ago. 

Towards the end of the row Purple Martins chattered and scolded as we moved closer to their home above our heads.  “The babies are flying and they are ready to go,” Dad told me.  “It’s time.”  Dad knows his birds.  In the spring he will say the “Martins,” will be back any day now.  A week later I stopped by to pick some Silver Queen corn. The garden was quiet.  The graceful swooping birds that, according to Dad, eat their weight in mosquitoes every day were heading south again.

I hated pulling weeds when I was young.  Most mornings Mom would send us out after breakfast to clear the weeds before Dad came home from work.  Today, as I weeded down memory lane alongside my father, I realized that Dad’s garden now offers a healing balm to stresses he faces as he becomes more and more of a caregiver to his wife.  The garden is his oasis where worries can disappear for a little while. It takes him to a world that he knows and challenges that he understands.  He has solutions for the bean beetles and potato bugs.  The weeds he can eradicate.   He can make his garden grow and share the bounty with his children, neighbors and church family, but he can’t stop his wife’s gradual and steady loss of memory.

Grandson Sam and  Great Granpa Sparks

The garden nurtured us as children.  We learned to wait the 85 or so days it took from the time some seeds germinated until produce was ready for harvest.  We sold strawberries for vacation money when we were younger.   In winter we enjoyed tomato sauces, strawberries, lima beans, corn, green beans, pickles and other vegetables that we shucked, peeled, stemmed, cut or sieved under the summer sun.   Vegetables were either canned or went directly to the freezer. 

From early on we could identify a weed from a plant.  I know that dandelions are a bear to eradicate because you have to get the entire tap root.  I know my chickweed from the common mallow and the plantain from the sorrel.  Crab grass and clover are tricky to pull as they send out trailers and are rooted in several places.   Thistle is never easy to pull.  Morning glory, purslane and lambs quarters also seem to show up in a garden.  If nothing else, weeds teach patience.  They never go away. It is a battle to be won each day.

Dad’s Sharptown garden will never leave me.  The smell of fresh turned soil, or the unique smell of the tomato and the lima bean vine with its leaves that stick like Velcro will take me immediately to that place.  Walking along a Bahamian road, I spotted corn growing in clumps among a soil too rocky to toil.  I couldn’t help returning to the place of my childhood and to the lessons in science, history and life that I learned in a little garden off the beaten path.

A Historic Landmark Goes to Sea

"I must go down to the sea again

For the call of the running tide,

It’s a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied."  

 John Masefield

        Every year majestic wooden ships and boats of the past disappear.  The once useful vessels sag and rot in boatyards around the country.  Vessels sit under tattered covers.  Plants grow through what were once watertight hulls.  But every once in a while someone takes notice and sees the history and value of saving a ship. The Charles W. Morgan, the only wooden whaling ship left in the world, is one of those lucky vessels.  After a five-year restoration that cost $8 million, the 172-year-old whaling ship will return to the water on the anniversary of its initial launch on July 21, 2013. She will be slowly lowered back into the Mystic River at the historic Mystic Seaport Henry B. DuPont Shipyard.  Designated a National Historic Landmark, the Morgan was originally built in New Bedford, Mass. The 113-foot vessel served as a whaling factory ship for 80 years making 37 voyages chasing whales around the globe. 

Charls W. Morgan on the hard

“The Charles W. Morgan is an exceptional and truly unique artifact of our shared maritime heritage,” said Mystic Seaport President Steve White. “She is the last remaining wooden whale ship in the world and the sole survivor of a fleet of American ships that once numbered more than 2,700. The Charles W. Morgan is quite simply an American icon and a living portal into an important chapter of American history.”

Before taking off to the sea in the fall of 2009, Ed and I attended a family wedding in Connecticut.  A side trip delivered us to Mystic Seaport. We couldn’t miss the massive Morgan propped upright on the hard with restoration underway. We climbed a platform of wooden steps and walked newly planked decks of the massive whaling ship. 

Ed and I ducked as we walked below decks through the tryworks where whale oil was once rendered and stored in casks.  We imagined the heat, the smoke, and the peril to crew and ship trying to balance on the rolling sea.  The danger of hot oil splashing from the large iron cauldrons set into the brick furnace was very real.  Tryworks played an important role in the factory ship.  Large sections of sliced blubber would be tossed into the pots and heated to separate the oil from the blubber.  Cooled oil would be stored in wooden casks of the cargo hold. 

During that summer trip, carpenters busily worked to make the historic ship tight.  Others worked on the rails. The restoration project, which began in November 2008, repaired areas of the vessel from the waterline down to her keel and structural work in the bow and stern. During restoration oak trees destroyed by hurricanes Katrina and Ike were utilized.  Fabric to weave the sails came from India and some rope from Holland.

The Charles W Morgan is one the most ambitious restoration projects undertaken at Mystic Seaport, A Museum of America and the Sea.  The newly restored ship joins the other watercraft collection of living history housed at the museum seaport museum. 

During her glory days the Charles W. Morgan was one of America’s most successful whaling ships. She came back from each trip lower on her waterline and filled with valuable cargo.  Built for durability, not speed, she made long voyages in the pursuit of whales. When the cry, “There she blows,” bellowed from the crow’s nest at the top of a mast, crew would lower small whaleboats chasing their prey with harpoons. After the hunt, the whale would be towed back to the ship to be processed for its oil, bone, teeth, baleen, and ambergris. Voyages were long. Long periods of boredom were followed by a frenzy of terror, death and exhausting work.

The Morgan characterizes a ship type that played an important part of America’s maritime and economic history. Whale oil and the profits generated helped fuel the industrial revolution. Capital from whaling was often invested in new ventures–textile mills, railroads, and manufacturing. The Morgan brings to life the history that whaling played in the development of American economic growth. Once could say whale oil brought light to the world.

The Morgan enjoyed a brief movie career as a set in the films “Down to the Sea in Ships” and ”Java Head,” after retirement from whaling in 1921.   Later, the ship was displayed at the waterfront estate of a wealthy investor in Massachusetts. Upon his death, the ship sat derelict and weathering the elements until 1941.

The Morgan’s lucky streak stayed with her through the devastating Hurricane of 1938.  Winds pounded the coast at 121 mph and gusts of 186 mph.  Wave heights climbed to 50 feet off Massachusetts.  Seven hundred souls died, 600 in New England. An estimated 63,000 were left homeless and 3,300 boats were destroyed. The Morgan survived. This survival was extended when the historic vessel was moved to Mystic Seaport in November 1941.

Once again the majestic ship has captured the attention of Hollywood.  Recently movie director Ron Howard toured the historic whaling ship. According to the Hollywood press, Howard is considering his next movie based on the Nathaniel Philbrick book “The Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whale ship Essex,” another famous whale ship of its time.

After a period of refitting and sea trials based in New London, Conn., the ship will begin its 38^th voyage, 92 years after her sails were once stowed.  The Morgan will sail to Newport, Vineyard Haven, New Bedford, and Boston. In a joint venture with NOAA, she will sail in the Stellwagen Bank National Marine Sanctuary near the Massachusetts Bay to study whales before participating in the centennial celebration of the Cape Cod Canal during 2014.

More than 20 million people have walked the decks of the Charles W. Morgan. Newly restored, her most valuable cargo in this era is knowledge of bygone days reminding us of our heritage on the high seas.

“The Charles W. Morgan is an exceptional and truly unique artifact of our shared maritime heritage,” said Mystic Seaport President Steve White. “She is the last remaining wooden whale ship in the world and the sole survivor of a fleet of American ships that once numbered more than 2,700. The Charles W. Morgan is quite simply an American icon and a living portal into an important chapter of American history.”

Before taking off to the sea in the fall of 2009, Ed and I attended a family wedding in Connecticut.  A side trip delivered us to Mystic Seaport. We couldn’t miss the massive Morgan propped upright on the hard with restoration underway. We climbed a platform of wooden steps and walked newly planked decks of the massive whaling ship. 

Ed and I ducked as we walked below decks through the tryworks where whale oil was once rendered and stored in casks.  We imagined the heat, the smoke, and the peril to crew and ship trying to balance on the rolling sea.  The danger of hot oil splashing from the large iron cauldrons set into the brick furnace was very real.  Tryworks played an important role in the factory ship.  Large sections of sliced blubber would be tossed into the pots and heated to separate the oil from the blubber.  Cooled oil would be stored in wooden casks of the cargo hold. 

During that summer trip, carpenters busily worked to make the historic ship tight.  Others worked on the rails. The restoration project, which began in November 2008, repaired areas of the vessel from the waterline down to her keel and structural work in the bow and stern. During restoration oak trees destroyed by hurricanes Katrina and Ike were utilized.  Fabric to weave the sails came from India and some rope from Holland.

The Charles W Morgan is one the most ambitious restoration projects undertaken at Mystic Seaport, A Museum of America and the Sea.  The newly restored ship joins the other watercraft collection of living history housed at the museum seaport museum. 

During her glory days the Charles W. Morgan was one of America’s most successful whaling ships. She came back from each trip lower on her waterline and filled with valuable cargo.  Built for durability, not speed, she made long voyages in the pursuit of whales. When the cry, “There she blows,” bellowed from the crow’s nest at the top of a mast, crew would lower small whaleboats chasing their prey with harpoons. After the hunt, the whale would be towed back to the ship to be processed for its oil, bone, teeth, baleen, and ambergris. Voyages were long. Long periods of boredom were followed by a frenzy of terror, death and exhausting work.

The Morgan characterizes a ship type that played an important part of America’s maritime and economic history. Whale oil and the profits generated helped fuel the industrial revolution. Capital from whaling was often invested in new ventures–textile mills, railroads, and manufacturing. The Morgan brings to life the history that whaling played in the development of American economic growth. Once could say whale oil brought light to the world.

The Morgan enjoyed a brief movie career as a set in the films “Down to the Sea in Ships” and ”Java Head,” after retirement from whaling in 1921.   Later, the ship was displayed at the waterfront estate of a wealthy investor in Massachusetts. Upon his death, the ship sat derelict and weathering the elements until 1941.

The Morgan’s lucky streak stayed with her through the devastating Hurricane of 1938.  Winds pounded the coast at 121 mph and gusts of 186 mph.  Wave heights climbed to 50 feet off Massachusetts.  Seven hundred souls died, 600 in New England. An estimated 63,000 were left homeless and 3,300 boats were destroyed. The Morgan survived. This survival was extended when the historic vessel was moved to Mystic Seaport in November 1941.

Once again the majestic ship has captured the attention of Hollywood.  Recently movie director Ron Howard toured the historic whaling ship. According to the Hollywood press, Howard is considering his next movie based on the Nathaniel Philbrick book “The Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whale ship Essex,” another famous whale ship of its time.

After a period of refitting and sea trials based in New London, Conn., the ship will begin its 38^th voyage, 92 years after her sails were once stowed.  The Morgan will sail to Newport, Vineyard Haven, New Bedford, and Boston. In a joint venture with NOAA, she will sail in the Stellwagen Bank National Marine Sanctuary near the Massachusetts Bay to study whales before participating in the centennial celebration of the Cape Cod Canal during 2014.

More than 20 million people have walked the decks of the Charles W. Morgan. Newly restored, her most valuable cargo in this era is knowledge of bygone days reminding us of our heritage on the high seas.

Life in the fast lane

 Imagine a turtle racing down a major highway.  Even at top speed the critter is likely to turn into road kill.  After several months of moving an average speed of 6.5 knots (7.5 miles per hour) I can relate to that turtle.  Two recent trips to Philadelphia and a several from New Jersey to Delaware quickly turned into an adrenaline-spiked adventure. 

Doesn’t anyone use turn signals anymore?  Cars zip in and out of traffic lanes without warning.   Speed limits, forget it!   On the way to visit the folks in Jersey, I noticed that traffic was moving along at 75 miles per hour (mph) in the slow lane.  Talk about a culture shock.  After setting the cruise control for 65 mph, a semi loomed in my rearview mirror.  I was determined not to let that intimidate me.   After a few minutes, the impatient driver did use a turn signal, moved to the left lane, and passed me before moving one vehicle ahead.   I thought, “Okay bud!  That move is sure to get you to your destination quicker.”  

The adrenaline rush began to settle when a black BMW attempted to zoom from the left lane, which was beginning to back up, into mine. Apparently BMW’s (and many other newer cars) don’t have blinkers.  When the driver noticed that my lane (right) was suddenly slowing and that there was not enough room to pull in, he zipped back to the left lane, narrowing missing a car moving forward.  I slammed the breaks and waited for the car behind me to turn my vehicle into an accordion.  Yep! The adrenaline rush was back

Was driving always this treacherous?   Is it because there are more cars on the roadways?   Are more people in a hurry because traffic is heavier?   What’s up with not using blinkers?   A guy on a cell phone driving a truck pulled out in traffic from convenience store turning left, cutting me off.  He used no blinker to indicate a turn. 

Maybe I’m just getting old?  How the heck do much older adults, whose reflexes are not so quick, get around?   Maybe it is because I’ve lived a slower life for the last nine months, or not?  Whatever the reason, today’s drivers seem to be working hard to make defensive driving more like an arena game.  Perhaps weaving in and out of traffic without signaling and riding someone’s rear to speed them up is the new normal.

I take some deep breaths and try to focus on the road.  I work to maintain a constant speed.  I watch the break lights of the cars in front of me and say a silent prayer when I’m out of heavy traffic.   

The most important thing is that I don’t beep or make gestures to the offending driver.   I learned that lesson the hard way.   Before sailing off into the sunset, a man in a beat up truck cut in front of me.  He gave me the one-fingered salute. I shook my head and mouthed idiot. The angry man turned and followed me into a parking lot where he called me a few names and threatened to pull me from the car.   Another driver who witnessed the entire event intervened and came to my aid.   I reported the incident to the police.

According to Fox News, over 40,000 people are killed in automobile accidents each year.  Many of these accidents can be prevented.  Using common sense probably gives one the most preventative means to avoid an accident. The list includes driving sober, slowing down (which also conserves gas consumption), and avoiding distractions such as cell phones and answering texts while driving.   Another word of advice to prevent an accident is not to drive when drowsy.  Pull off the road or give the wheel to someone else.  Bad weather events such as fog, heavy rain, or snow is a good time to slow down and put distance between you and the car ahead.  If you can, pull over or stay off the road entirely.

Following these tips can help keep you safe on the road, but one must also remain attentive and aware of other drivers.   These are the drivers who tailgate, refuse to signal, and pull out from stop signs or lights.  Scan ahead and keep an eye open for unexpected moves from other drivers.  Watch out for drivers talking on cell phones, or those weaving in an out of traffic.  Be extra vigilant and slow down through construction zones.  Look out for bicyclists and those on motorcycles.  Many organizations such as AARP offer defensive driving courses.  Consider taking one and get a discount off most auto insurance policies.  It’s a war zone out there on those roads.

Most importantly, wear a seatbelt to protect yourself and your loved ones in the event of an accident.  The National Highway Traffic Safety Association reports that more than half of all accident fatalities involve drivers and passengers who were not wearing seatbelts.  Seatbelts prevent one from being thrown through a windshield or around the inside of a crashing car. 

I suspect that as traffic becomes heavier, roads more congested and drivers more stressed accident ratios will increase.  I will wear my seatbelt, breathe deeply, keep my eye on the other driver, and remember that I’m not traveling 6.5 knots this summer.  As for the turtles, when I see one on a Salem County road, I pull over and help move it along.  There is no way that God’s critters were created to race with cars.