Greetings from the isle of mayflies!

On the 15th we got underway from Erie with a group of kids from Cleveland who are part of a children at risk sailing program. They all did a great job, all but one out of about 15 or so went aloft their first day and then helped out while underway both aloft and on deck. The sail to Cleveland went smoothly, except for a late-night all-hands call because one of our crewmembers had a health issue. It turned out to be harmless, and we continued on with a lovely and uneventful sail the rest of the way.

After dropping off the Cleveland kids we headed off again to Put-in Bay, Ohio, where we are currently.
It's an interesting town, lots of small shops and tourist-y things to explore, whoop-de-do, you know how I love that sort of thing.
I love it kind of the way I love having mayflies inch deep and slide-crunching across them just to walk down the sidewalk. Eew.

But Bravo watch has off today until 2200 (10PM), so I'll have all day to explore and see what mischief I can get myself in and out of.

No more daysails!

Tomorrow we leave for Cleveland and then Put-in-Bay, and I couldn't be happier to be not doing daysails for awhile.
We've been doing daysails pretty much every day since I got here, which is nice except that daysails are much more work than just sailing. A lot of the work of sailing is getting ready to go and then getting back into port and all that entails (chafe gear, doubling up docklines, harbor furling, etc. etc.), so when we're sailing for days on end there's none of that to worry about. There's also time off watch. Perhaps I'm just remembering an idealized version of being out sailing for days at a time, but I'm still looking forward to it. If for no other reason, sleeping in a hammock while the ship is rolling is infinitely better than when it's stable, and no matter how cold and miserable the morning watch was, seeing the sunrise, smelling the woodsmoke start up and getting to eat and then sleep is a treat. No matter how torturous it might seem at the moment.

In any case, it'll be fun to get out on the water for real. Can you tell I'm excited? :D

Yo-ho, yo-ho, and all that jazz

The trip to Erie went without any major glitches, I started out and drove the first 111 miles (which is just an awesome number, so I feel the need to record it), then Dad took over and drive the rest of the way. It was rainy and foggy and downright nasty a few times, but we made pretty good time.

The only catastrophe being that I remembered, in a blinding flash of clarity that I had done the unforgivable and left my ditty bag at home. Now, I am still puzzling over how I managed to leave probably one of the mot important items for sailing AT HOME. My rig! I feel completely naked without it. Thankfully I have a wonderful and patient father, who will find the said ditty bag containing my precious tools and rig, and send it to me asap when he gets home. He's awesome. He should go make some cookies for himself to celebrate his awesomeness. And then, y'know, maybe share some, thereby making himself even more awesome. He also doesn't read this blog. But I'm sure Mommy dear will let him know what I said (won't you, Mommy dear? Thanks. And you're awesome too.)

Anyway. We got to Erie with no other devastating events, and stopped by the Niagara just to say hi for a little bit, then crashed in the hotel room. I didn't get much sleep. But I suppose I need to get used to that anyway.

So, today I showed up around 0730, had breakfast, muster, etc. and went to sanding, tacking down and painting. Funfunfun. Then I got sent aloft to the crosstrees to…..TAR THE SHROUDS! Wheee! What that means is climbing up to the highest platform (which is just an open square, really) with a dish detergent bottle full of (and covered with) tar (runny stuff, it’s a mixture of tar, black paint and linseed oil) and squirting that tar solution over the shrouds and then spreading it around on them with your hands. You can use a rag, but I was wearing rubber gloves, so I just used my hands. Then my gloves tore (they were the thin throwaway ones), and lunch was called so I was in a hurry and just used my hands and used the rag to wrap the gloves in and put in my pocket so the inside wouldn’t get all gross. My clothes were, obviously, plenty smeared with tar though, which looks like heck but smells quite good.
After that I was painting next to Paul (I know him from last year, good guy, amazing musician).
“Oh, something smells good.” *looks over* “Oh, it’s your boobs.”
Because (being a girl) leaning against the shrouds to keep from falling to my death the, erm, parts of me that protrude the most got the most tar.
I also helped with pulling the flying jibboom out to where it’s supposed to be (the uprig you may remember me complaining about last summer, same deal).
After work there was a party at a local amusement park for a girl’s graduation. I don’t know exactly how she’s connected with the ship, but I heard she’ll be sailing with us at some point this summer. I don’t know if she’s sailed with Niagara before though. I’d never met her before tonight, but it was exceedingly nice of her to invite the entire crew.
At any rate, we went, and I rode a roller coaster. And didn’t die, which I was glad about. I hope you are too.

And now, here I be. Sitting in the hallway, glad to have internet access and my own computer.

The plight of a travelling bookworm

ARG. Okay, so I thought packing clothing was the worst. I was wrong. I don't know what books to bring with me. >.< *dies a painful death* I know I won't get a lot of time to read, but I feel naked if I don't have books with me. And I have an awkward amount of pages left in my notebook*; not enough to start a new one, and a disturbingly thin amount for all summer. But seeing as it's lasted two years already and I haven't been making use of the notebook as much anymore, I guess it'll be okay. It's still kind of disconcerting though. :/
Fortunately however, I finished the last page of my journal (that had also lasted two years) last night, so I can start fresh in the new one. :) Except that it's always slightly intimidating and odd to start afresh without being able to look back on old entries. Oh well, whatever. I'll definitely have enough pages, and that's what matters.
I have one book to read which should keep me plenty occupied, but I'd also like to bring along a novel or two, or something like that. But I'm not currently reading any books (besides Wind in the Willows, but that's not worth bringing for more than the car ride, because I'll have it done by then). *siiiigh* Such a dilemma.
I'd bring along some Muse and Cicada magazines, but I don't want them to get mauled. And if we were going to be in Erie more it wouldn't be a problem, because Erie Maritime Museum is right next to (actually, in the same building as) the public library, and I have a card from last year. But alas, such is not to be, unless I want to pay overdue fines, which I don't.

So. Books. Writing implements. More books. Gadgets and chargers for them. All packed so I can get to them conveniently (or at least without making a huge production out of it) and so that they won't get smashed into oblivion by the cruel forces of the Inside of a Backpack or Bookbag.


*For those who don't know, I always have at least a notebook and a journal with me. The notebook is kind of the catchall where I jot down lists, doodles, addresses, stick in pictures/flyers/other random places of paper or thin objects, and write stories in. The journal is private, wherein I recount the activities of the day(s) and occasional philosophical ramblings or emotional outbursts about them. Yes, these two closely linked parts must be kept separate. Why? Because.

One more day

Oh have you heard the news me Johnnies?
One more day!
We're outward* bound tomorrow!
One more day!

[chorus] Only one more day, me Johnnies,
One more day, well rock and roll me over,
One more day!

Well can you hear the old man growlin'?
One more day!
Oh can't you hear the mate a howlin'?
One more day!

[repeat chorus]

Well pack your bags today, me Johnnies,
One more day!
And leave her where she lies me Johnnies!
One more day!

[repeat chorus]

*It's originally "homeward bound", but as sea shanties are a flexible tradition and can be modified to suit the occasion, I took liberties.

My bags are still in the process of being packed, but tomorrow when Dad gets home we're going to head out to Erie, and I can't wait!

Dancing, colonial games, packing, long post titles...

The numbers in my countdown have dwindled to only three remaining before I'm back on the high seas....or at least the high lakewater, though that doesn't sound nearly as exciting.

And what exciting things have I been doing that have kept me from writing? Uh, umm, well....just stuff.
On Friday our dear friend Heather came to visit, which was glorious since I haven't seen her for about a year. Why does it seem like all these wonderful people I love so much have to live so far away and be so busy? In any case though, it was fun to visit with her again.

On Friday night Mom and I did a shopping run to get various essentials that I should be packing right now. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Wal-Mart carries Burt's Bee's products; I still find going there abhorrent, however. But with armfuls of Burt's Bee's stuff, neon ankle socks and a travel box for soap we mercifully escaped in relatively good time. (I have a theory that time passes differently when one is shopping, but I won't get into that right now.)

Then yesterday and today were spent helping Tad demonstrate colonial children's games at Rose Hill Manor in Frederick. Despite a shortage of children (or visitors of any age, really) to educate on the finer points of bowling a hoop or graces technique, it was enjoyable.
Oh come on, there were friends and chocolate and enough games to make your head spin, what else do you really need?

Yesterday evening Elena, a soprano in the choir Mom and I sing in, and I went contra dancing in Shepherdstown, which was great fun. My leg is a little sore today, but it was completely worth it.

I'm now stalling before going in and dragging a duffel bag out of the closet and starting to pack. Alas, it is a necessary evil, I suppose. (The packing, not the procrastination. The latter is completely unnecessary.)