A Tall Tale: What It’s Like to Sail on a Tall Ship
The Dutch-flagged Barque Europa sails around the world teaching the basics of sailing.
Collecting experiences is my hobby, and I knew this one would be a winner even as we 20 Duluth Rotarians boarded Barque Europa August 2, 2010, for a six-day voyage across Lake Superior after the Tall Ships Duluth festival.
Built in 1911, this steel-hulled, three-masted denizen of the seas sails under Dutch ownership and flag and earns its keep with paying passengers and appearance fees.
Besides us, the ship carried 12 crew and 20 other paying passengers from Illinois, Iowa, Canada and the United Kingdom; some had boarded earlier at exotic eastern ports like Cleveland. The crew was comprised of hired members, mainly Dutch, plus U.S., Canadian and South African volunteers who got room, board, sailing experience and the chance to see the world. (I did notice that while we’d been warned to avoid open-toed shoes, the crew was all barefoot.)
Among those in our six-man berth, I was the youngster at 64 – probably why I got an upper bunk in our 8-by-10-foot room. We each were assigned a large drawer and a locker. Our 3-by-3-foot bathroom featured a toilet, shower and sink. My bunk was near the fan, restricting my access, but blissfully drowning out all snoring. My duvet, pillow, two towels, reading light and shelf gave me ample comfort and space; I stored my duffel bag in my bunk.
Knowing Lake Superior’s fickle nature, I did count as “ominous” a few things I noted. First, upon boarding I was photographed and asked to name my next of kin. Second, during our safety lecture, the weathered captain continually said “when” something happens rather than “if.” Third, the helm was reversed so some people steered with their arms behind them, evoking images of Ahab lashed to the whale.
Still, it didn’t take long to figure out how good we had it. Modern air-conditioning, hot water, lights, radar, GPS, lounges and a library where the captain played guitar in the evening came wrapped by the sails and riggings of former times. I contemplated what the rope industry must once have been, given this many “lines” on thousands of ships. Crew and passengers assisted in setting – raise/lower/secure – the sails. With three masts (a barque has three; a brig has two), there are 27 possible sails – jibs, stunsails, mainsails and so on. This journey was definitely “rigged.”
The ship had a full bar, and we diligently lightened the ship’s liquid load … after all, we were sailors! The cooks prepared European-style meals – meats, cheeses, fresh-baked breads, the best pork chops I’ve ever eaten and soups served until consumed. There were no processed foods.
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A Tall Tale: What It’s Like to Sail on a Tall Ship
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A Tall Tale: What It’s Like to Sail on a Tall Ship
Halfway through the voyage, we encountered brisk tail winds to 35 knots (about 40 mph) with 6-foot waves, some crashing over the sides and rising well above eye level. A few found this unsettling. The Dutch doctor helped with seasickness, kept a list of passenger medications and treated one woman who fell.
Mostly it was sunny skies with temperatures in the 70s, perfect for shorts and T-shirts. Sunsets and sunrises were spectacular.
The 16- to 24-year-olds bonded, swimming in the chilly Lake and playing cards (spoon and hearts). I showed off my card tricks – three-card Monte and a few mind-boggles – and was rewarded with enthusiasm, squeals and giggles. Young people are not always on iPods. Three of us searched unsuccessfully the whole voyage for a fourth for bridge. We did play cribbage. I’d forgotten how relaxing card playing can be.
All passengers got watch duty – four hours on, eight off. Evenings brought magnificent vistas, northern lights, shooting stars and the Big Dipper. The wind through the rigging reminded me of winds through tall pines and of our Earth’s grandeur and splendor.
After initial safety and harness instructions, most of us climbed the rigging. The ship’s movement is definitely proportional to the height you climb; it really rocks and rolls when one is 100 feet above the deck – but what a view!
The roughest passage began beyond Whitefish Point as we tacked north to the Canadian shore before proceeding to the Soo Locks. We motored through there on Saturday afternoon with a slight headwind. Tall ship groupies eyed us, and one shouted, “I’m your bus driver,” heralding the voyages’s imminent end.
Some of us took shore leave at the Antler Bar in Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, home to 500+ antlers and a waitress who was not amused when I joked that I was from the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (I was punchy from the long voyage).
We arose Sunday morning, packed our gear, had a final meal on deck, bid our farewells and boarded the bus. It began to rain, making a dreary departure. Seems even bad weather is better under sail.
In his day job, Tom Wheeler is president of Wheeler Associates, a financial consulting firm.