First They Came for the Veal

2007-01-02T20:58:00.000-08:00

When the food Nazis came for the veal,
I was silent;
I didn't eat veal too often.

Then they came for the Foie Gras
But I was silent;
I didn't take it seriously. Besides I don't live in Chicago or California.

Then they came for the Lobster,
But, I'm in Massachusetts, I said;
They can't be serious.

Now they're coming for doughnuts and cheese
It's now time to take a stand before it's too late.

Master and Commander

2006-12-18T15:31:00.000-08:00

In Boston, the Handel & Haydn Society is always a treat, and the Baroque Christmas concert yesterday at Jordan Hall was special. One of my favorite pieces, Concerto Grosso in G minor ("Christmas Concerto") was played in it's entirety. If you've seen the movie Master and Commander with Russell Crowe you'll remember the Adagio from this piece used when Captain Jack Aubrey diverts his search for a French ship to take his wounded friend, naturalist Stephen Maturin, to Galapagos to convalesce.

Rough Crossings

2006-12-13T14:32:00.000-08:00

Sailing to Bermuda and St. Thomas

Well anyone out there familiar with using a marine head at 9 knots, reefed and heeled over under solid Force 5 to 6 winds will know you need the agility of Spiderman to go...well, you know--and eventually you will when nature continues to call. We're left to these gymnastics until some marine engineer perfects the fully gimbaled cabin, a possibility I pondered after a two day hiatus en route to St. Thomas. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Our intrepid crew of 5 started off in Mystic, CT and we sailed to Bermuda. It was a "salty" bunch. A British Captain who went to Merchant Navy School at 10 years of age, a circumnavigator, veteran of the Picton Castle with a 100-ton USCG captain's license named Bruce, a fellow who has sailed the Chesapeake Bay for years named Robert, and Your's Truly.

Call me Eliot. This year I've sailed primarily in Massachusetts waters: Boston Harbor to Edgartown twice, weekend trips to Marblehead, Scituate and a 10 day trip to Nantucket. Yi-Hsin--my wife--and I host friends on the weekends but on extended trips we sail short (just the two of us). Our trips are usually on a C & C 40 sloop that's 25 years old, draws 8 feet; has running backstays, a heavy Dacron sail that requires the strength of a prize fighter to lift, and a prop that has a knack for picking up lobster pots. I mention this only to point out that I'm quite comfortable with coastal passagemaking and piloting.

New England waters can be tricky and despite the heavy weather I've sailed in in Cape Cod Bay, until two weeks ago I'd never been seasick.

For the first 36 hours of our trip I was seasick and thus crestfallen. I've been in marine situations that would make a Billy Goat puke, but then again, I've always been at the wheel. Going below a pitching and heeling boat to sleep for 4 hours was new to me. We were 4-on and 4-off. This means two of us had to stand watch from 4-8, sleep from 8 to 12, come back on from midnight to 4am and sleep 8-12. It takes some getting used to. My bunk was forward, and on a racer this size it would be where we'd launch the spinnaker. A section also known as "The Sewer." I felt like I was on one end of a sea-saw and John Candy and The Notorious B.I.G. were on the other given the violent pitching.

When any of us came above, from dusk to sunrise we had to wear PFD's and tether to jacklines because going overboard at night, without a PFD and a light of some kind means almost certain death. It's the Atlantic Ocean after all. So I'd come above looking like Jacob Marley, with my double-lined tether. I sat down, hooked to the jackline on the starboard side and kept a keen eye out for approaching vessels.

The log book, ginger ale, were all below and I quickly grew to dread going below because it meant entering what had become a funhouse, making the most routine trip from astern forward require a hell of a lot of dexterity and at times extreme effort.

A day and a half later I came on deck and Bruce noticed I wasn't in a cold sweat said, "Well, it looks like you got your sea legs."

"I've never been seasick," I responded defensively. Bruce is the kind of guy you take to immediately. He's considerate, a seasoned sailor, and he doen't use knowlege as a weapon. Because of his elaborate tattoos I'd taken to calling him Queequeg. I asked him to teach me to different ways to tie knots quickly. He simply said sure. Picked up a line and tied a bowline 3 ways. We'll start here and keep going.

The first few days were cold, and so we wouldn't fall behind we motor sailed with the mainsail raised. We didn't have time to chase wind, and I wanted it warm ASAP. It was while I was checking the radar that I thought of the way it would have been done 200 years ago. When I think of the crew of the Mayflower or of Columbus's trip across The Atlantic without benefit of Gor-tex, poythinsulate, Garmin or Maui Jims. I'm in awe. Every schoolboy story I read about these guys has a new resonance.

Part 2 will be posted soon

The Game

2006-11-21T14:12:00.000-08:00

Massachusetts Journal

First They Came for the Veal

Master and Commander

Rough Crossings

The Game