Corwith Cramer C-226C, Part 2

6 FEB: Each day students are assigned to the deck or to the lab (or to help with dishes). Of course, science deployments occur throughout each day. Always a neuston tow at noon and at midnight. My focus, though, has always been the deck. As a student in the lab, I remember being in the lab when the call came from deck that hands were needed. I remember turning my head toward the hatch, feeling like a dog, who has just realized his owner is putting on his running shoes. I will always love sail handling, plotting our course, and navigating with with celestial bodies.

Dawn watch in the lab this morning, but I was free to do as I pleased as students were working on their science presentations and my services as a sign language interpreter were not needed. I spent the whole four hours organizing my celestial navigation progressions and outlines and getting ready for the approaching morning nautical twilight (when the sun is 12 degrees below the horizon). This is a time when it is light enough to see the horizon, but still dark enough to see the bright navigational stars. When the twilight came, just before turning over to C watch for the morning watch, I got angles of Vega, Mars and the moon. It will forever amaze me that one can figure out one's position from three celestial bodies!

8 FEB: Spent the afternoon on Garden Key exploring Fort Jefferson, interpreting classes on the history and natural history of the Civil War era fort. We all went snorkeling after class, though it was "worse than pole." "Pole" was our first real Crazy Horse snorkeling endeavor and therefore our reference: it had clear water, but nothing to look at except sea grass, tiny lobsters and a pole in the water. Needless to say it was good to stretch the legs on the island and give the arms a bit of exercise with some butterfly strokes in the ocean.

9 FEB: Underway again. Dawn watch again this morning. Got my celestial sights (this morning from Vega, Altair, Antares and the crescent moon.)in and worked out what is really required to get the latitude and longitude from the heavens:

1 instrument error measured

3 angles measured

3 times recorded and converted to universal time

27 tabes entered to get 36 numbers

30 arithmetic exercises

9 lines drawn on a plotting sheet

7 latitude or longitude distance measurements

Naturally, it is quite satisfying to have a position that is within a mile of the actual position when checked with the GPS!

A cold front came through during the evening watch when we had the deck. The winds had been light and variable but we knew from the VHF radio that the front was going to hit very soon. It took all of a few minutes for the winds to jump to over 30 knots. We were out on the bowsprit furling the jib in the darkness as it really hit and the rain started to fall, first as a few little drops, and then a downpour the clear sky above us was overcome by a cover of clouds as though someone was pulling them over us like a blanket. It was quite exciting to be out on the bowsprit, with a job to do, in the strong wind and rain. I could hear the students' nervous excitement in their voices as we got the jib in nice and tidy-like. Afterwards, one of the students said, "That felt like war!" For students who have never been out to sea before, it is pretty intense to be suspended on a net above the black ocean, that with each wave threatens to reach up and soak them, furling a sail in the darkness by feel and cooperation as the temperature drops suddenly. Everyone was very focused and as I unclipped from the bowsprits safety wire with my windward side soaking wet, I was very happy. I love moments like that. And the students will never forget it.

10 FEB: Back at Key West. Our watch brought the ship in under 30 knots. Overall, it was a wonderful sail and interpreting on a sailboat for a wonderful student, named Shanna, was really a great experience. I was assigned to wherever she was assigned and was there to interpret the deck lectures and wherever else I could help with the communication - on deck at night wearing a red headlight to illuminate my face and hands, while trying disturb anyone's night vision. It was great that I was very familiar with the Cramer and how the ship is run. I certainly have a long way to go in terms of my interpreting skills and I was grateful for Shanna's patience, positive attitude and good natured feedback. I was also grateful when, after I misspelled "chlorophyll" and "phytoplankton" for the millionth tim, she was not annoyed but said it was, "endearing." She certainly taught me a lot. And hopefully she learned a little bit from me and the rest of the crew of the Cramer.

12 FEB: Back at Mystic now. Finally here and in bed by 0300 and though I wanted to sleep a long normal length sleep, I was awake at 0715. Oh well, lots to do. I certainly miss my bunk though. Like a little cave of wondrous sleep. It is strange to walk through the hall of the Mystic staff house without leaning first towards one wall and then towards the other in coordination with the ships rolls back and forth as she cuts through the water. There is always a satisfaction when that skill comes back. To walk through a passage way in complete balance in a heavy sea...Already I miss the sense of accomplishment that comes with one day out at sea. And of course I always miss the team, and being part of a crew on a mission. It's what I live for.

Soon to head home and get ready for the NOLS semester course which I will start briefing for in about a week. Just found out I'll be working the first section (back country skiing) with Rob Lloyd of Crazy Horse and now Fishers Hornpipe lore! Needless to say our students are going to have fun as we cavort around the backcountry together.

I will miss these Williams-Mystic students and faculty, who have become my shipmates. They are wonderful and they are lucky to be in such a wonderful program. To finish with a quote, from Oliver Wendell Holmes that I have had in the front cover of my journal since the summer sailing Downeast with Outward Bound:

"I find the greatest thing in the world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving. To reach the p[rot of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind, and sometimes against it, but we sail, and not drift, nor live at anchor."

Corwith Cramer C-226C, Part 1

1 FEB: On the Cramer again. It is wonderful to be a sailor again. We spent the morning and afternoon with orientation and trainings: fire, man-overboard, and abandon-ship drills were carried out and the students were broken in into 3 "watches." My watch was B-watch and our jobs for the drills was sail handling - passing, striking or whatever sail handling was needed in the emergency.

The smells of the ship immediately took me back to my experience as a deckhand on the Cramer (3 weeks in the summer of '02 sailing off the coast of New England) and then before that as a student on the Cramer's sister ship, Westward during the fall of '99 sailing from Woods Hole, MA to St. Croix). The memories connected with the smells are amazing. The scent of the galley, the engine room, the heads and the labs - they are overwhelming and memories come flooding back.

After sailing aboard Crazy Horse and learning a lot about electronics and batteries and engines, Cramer's engine room was a fantastic place. I spent a lot of time with usty, the engineer, who head also been my engineer 10 years ago. Now 10 years later, I could ask intelligent questions and discuss the amperage, voltage, wattage and other operational details of the systems on board. Needless to say, I was fascinated by it and now hope to someday soon work as an Assistant Engineer on SEA's other boat, the Robert C. Seamans.

3 FEB: Getting my sea legs under me as students struggle to find theirs in this alien environment. There have been many "donations to Neptune," the God of the sea, as the students lose their lunches...dinners...and breakfasts...over the side in painful resignation. I felt a bit "lumpy," as we said on Crazy Horse, for a few days and on account of being in the choppy Gulf Stream waters, as we made our way west towards the Dry Tortugas. For lunch we had delicious burritos and I had felt better than ever. But soon, the feeling changed and I was on the lee rail looking at the water in a state of a bit of miserywondering which of the next handful of seconds, my stomach was going to tighten like it can in no other way and my lunch was going to be launched out of my body and into the turbulent waters below. This, accompanied with the humility that comes with making donations to Neptune, makes for a demorilizing ordeal.

I dry heaved twice and amazingly that was it - very thankful to not have donated. I felt spared - as if Neptune was quietly saying, "I could have gotten you if I really wanted to..." No one ever beats the sea, beats Neptune...that's what I love about it. People think they can conquer the mountains, but noone thinks they can conquer the sea. It's power is just too great. And therefore it is amazing sense to be in harmony with it, especially because it often doesn't seem to last too long. And oh, the feeling of crawling into my bunk (top bunk, all the way aft on the starboard side)...relief like no other kind.

5 FEB: Three watches rotate in 5 shifts throughout the day, so over the course of three days, each watch has stood all shifts of the day. Dawn watch 0300-0700 gets the sunrise but also has "dawn clean-up," a not so fun daily clean of the ship's below decks. The there is morning watch 0700-1300. One of two long watches (6 hours, while the others three are 4 hours), this watch is a good chunk of time where we are all used to being awake and at work. 1300-1900 is the afternoon watch which includes the distraction of having an hour or two of reports of engineering, weather, navigation and science completed during the last 24 hours, and this is followed by a class on the literature of the sea, a topic of nautical science or oceanography.

The evening watch, 1900-2300 is a pleasant one and usually involves the fun of sailing into the darkness. And of course, there is mid-watch, 2300-0300, which typically involves the infamous galley clean up, though sometimes it is now done by the evening watch these days. It is not to best job especially if tired and on a rolling sea.

Lots of sail handling today. Always a good activity and always makes the deck watch fly by. Started the day with 30 knots of wind!

Here is what meal time looks like below. Do not let the table hit your knees or things will slide what seems to be uphill! The second video is of A watch, who has just taken the deck for night watch. (The lights on the mast - red over green - mean we are a vessel currently under sail power.)

Spaceships, Sailing Vessels and Mystic Seaport

Out west I went last November to do a training course with the Wilderness Medical Institute of NOLS and teach a NOLS backcountry ski section of a semester course. I passed the very rigorous medical training and then headed into the backcountry with only about 50 cm of snow. It was not ideal skiing conditions (or even traveling conditions) considering we had to put our skis on our sleds. But we had fun and played in the backcountry and I quite enjoyed when the temperatures plummeted to -26 degrees C. It was a wonderful feeling to feel as though I was back on the Ice again!

But now gears have been changed, for just a short bit. I am in Mystic, Connecticut working as a sign language interpreter for a Deaf college-student attending the excellent Williams-Mystic semester program. It's my first real job as an interpreter and after a two hour session of interpreting, I'm amazed that I'm a real paid-interpreter (if not yet certified). I've had lots of help and feedback from my partner in crime, and I'm learning a lot. (The students are all hopefully becoming State Radio fans with their new CDs.)

This week is the first week of the program and it has been preparing the students for the 11 days we are about to spend in the Florida Straits on S.E.A.'s Corwith Cramer (a ship I worked on as a deck hand in 2002.) It'll be quite fun to be on the ship again, sextant in hand, doing everything is sign language! I plan to enjoy it as much as I enjoyed Space Camp during Deaf Week a few years ago! Similarly, I plan to enjoy the experience and get more out of it than any of the current students, but that I'm used to. No doubt, some of their lives will be changed, as mine was when I sailed on the Westward in 1999. They are in for a trip, and I am excited to see them go through the process.

To follow our progress go to the Williams-Mystic website: http://www.williams.edu/williamsmystic/expeditions/offshore.html

We'll be offshore from Feb. 1 - 11.

I have been in a very excited state of vehicle bliss. I'm surrounded by cool sailing ships, recently spent a number of days doing some electrical work on Rob Lloyd's new boat (www.fishershornpipesail.blogspot.com) and then listened to a lecture on the similarities of aircraft and vessels of the sea. Then I spent yesterday's down time on the Nautilus nuclear submarine built in the 1950's. Needless to say, submarines likeness to spaceships, make me love them - except the missile and war part of the things. Since I don't ever plan on joining the services, I'll just have to get my very own vessel someday to pretend I'm on a spaceship. The sailboat will be named Apollo 8 (the first human voyage to another celestial being - the moon) so that when someone calls me on the radio, I can feel like I'm in space! Someday...soon!

Some pics from Rob's boat:

The old wiring set up.

Part-way finsished.

Upstream and downstream complete! Doing the wiring on a boat is something that soothes my soul. Such order in the chaos! I don't really understand it but I love making the connections that will help make this boat operate again. It's like connecting the nerves on Frankenstein. We're slowly bringing this ship back to life. And of course, I feel like I'm on a space station...

After the 11 day sail, I'll head back west to work a NOLS semester course out of the Rocky Mountain branch where I'll be instructing all sections: Wilderness First Aid, skiing, canyoneering, rock climbing and river kayaking/rafting over 87 days! I even get to work the last section with two of my cousins!!!!

That's as far as I know! The rest has yet to come but floating out there are another season of Deaf soccer, another airplane voyage, and more work in Antarctica! Also trying to find a good light weight HAM radio so that Dad and I can get back on the air - perhaps in Morse Code as "CW" takes less power which is paramount if I'm going to be carrying the thing. Life is good! And I hope it is with you as well!

Departures

And once again I find myself outward bound. The room has been cleaned, my coaches locker cleaned out at school, and everything cleaned up, with as many loose ends tied as possible. Savoring the moments in the comfort of my home, I strike out again for another task. This one for a Instructor Training Course with the Wilderness Medical Institute of NOLS. New people, a new place, new challenges and uncertainty. It is hard to leave the family and the friends. It is hard to leave the community that speaks with their hands. It is all challenging, and can be stressful, but it brings new life and excitement of which I live for.

All to0 quickly I am across the country. Strange to think that it would take 5 days to drive here but I can close my eyes, and suddenly I am here in a matter of mere hours. Commercial air travel is something I never get used to. Just north of Seattle for the night, then a 19 hour drive to Lander, Wyoming. My truck, Timmy, has been waiting for me here, and it was wonderful to see him again. I greeted him like I would one of our dogs. Timmy and I have been through a lot together. Reliable and always ready! The adventure continues.

Downeast Maine!

A 28-day sailing course taking me my co-instructor 100 miles "downeast" almost to the Canadian border! I'd done the legs of the journey to and from fabled Cross Island but never the round trip, and never as Captain of the ship. So finally after too many years of putting it off, I got the course!

The course was wonderful. 300 miles were made over the course of 28 days. It was wonderful to be back in a pulling boat and really go on an expedition. No circles, no futsing around, just getting ourselves through the fog and rain and wind to Cross Island and then back.

My partner in crime: Dr. Ice (aka D. Rice)

Mistake Island!

The view from Cross Island: an array of 26 radio towers used to communicate with underwater submarines. Fascinating!

Waddington Mountaineering in B.C.

Here we are in the Waddington Range! Excuse the out of orderness of the pics and writings. The task of updating everything is a bit overwhelming and some things are working and some are not.

We had to move through days of this stuff.

Slide alder...a cherished sight. Yeah, right. Better than devil's club perhaps...

The Jenga!
Mother Teresa is a wicked mountaineer!

The Waddington Range of British Columbia...in all it's splendor, we did see for 30 days in June and July. The quick story is we had a student go anaphalactic on the first night because of eating a sandwhich with buckwheat in the bread - she went to the hospital and rejoined the course late that night. It was an interesting way to start the course...waiting in a Canadian Provincial Park, a bit out of the way, for half an hour for an ambulance to come, hoping the student's airway did not swell shut. (She had already given herself a shot of epinephrine and Benedryl doesn't work for her.)

The bushwacking began: 3 days of moving 1/3 of a mile for each arduous hour. We sweated our way only 3 miles for 9 hours of toil. I would be in the lead sometimes wondering how these students are following me, and not knowing how I was going to get through what we called "the jenga" - a lincoln log array of fallen pine trees that had succumbed to the pine beetle infestation.

But eventually we made it to the snow and alpine territory, and it was beautiful. We climbed some wonderful peaks and had long days of glaciated mountain travel. It was fantastic to be back in the same mountain range that I'd been on two years ago, some new territory, and some old.

We had many crevasse punch throughs, but thankfully no one went through more than up to their waist. There were some exciting times though, and some HUGE, GAPING crevasses that we crossed on relatively small snow bridges. That's all for now. Hopefully the pics will tell some of the rest of the story.

The above picture is from climbing Jubilee Peak. We awoke early and as we made our way up the peak, the sun rose EXACTLY between the two peaks of Mt. Waddington. It was an amazing sight. Many things had to align for that to work out!

To the Waddington

Students come in the morning, the endless list are getting smaller and smaller and transitioning to field lists of things to do. Generally much more enjoyable than the precourse lists such as: Pull and check: fuel bottles, library, tents, stoves, ropes, rock climbing gear, ice screws, snow pro, and on and on...decide how much food to take, look at the students medicals, the route, pull the maps,...The whole process reminds me of high school musicals. A week to go, it always seemed like we were never going to be ready but we always were. And now we're ready, oddly enough. though there are many details to take care of after the students get here tomorrow morning at 7:20am. It'll be non-stop activity until 3:30 when we are scheduled to leave.

A day and a half of driving to the interior of B.C. then a week of heavy bushwacking and then days and days in the snow and in the mountains. We probably won't see anyone except Mike, who will resupply us via helicopter! We'll be out for a month and hopefully in the process make some mountaineers, as well as better communicators, leaders and environmentally conscious people. Generally, my aim is to make better people. i'll do my best. That's it for now! To Infinity and Beyond!

Update

Yes, it's been a while, except for the Mozambique post, but the trip to Mozambique was almost a year ago. Since then:
Soccer coaching of The Learning Center for the Deaf's Varsity Boys team,
A NOLS sailing course in Baja with co-instructor, and member of the Crazy Horse Team, Rob Lloyd. This trip involved much spear fishing and free diving - we caught about 300 lbs of fish during the month.
A few weeks with brother Will in Venice, CA riding the waves...
Then NOLS Avalanche Training followed by split snowboard training, followed by rock climbing training. Then some personal trips, a Crazy Horse reunion in Moab Utah, involving lots of desert golf (9 irons, tennis balls, and holes such as: "around that tree, off the rock and into the fire pit.")
Teaching a NOLS instructor course - quite fun to have some influence on a small group of instructors. Some will be working this summer - I feel like a father having taught my kids what they need to know, now they have to figure out the rest for themselves. Dealing with an empty nest now, but the nest is about to be refilled in a few days.

Briefing for a month long mountaineering course starts tomorrow. Two other instructors and I will be taking 12 students into the mountains of British Columbia in order to school them in the ways of mountaineering, leadership, and living in tune with the planet. (They'll also learn a bit about State Radio, Sign Language and moon rockets - but those things aren't on the NOLS curriculum...yet.)

Excuse the speedy catch up, but the prospect of writing everything was so daunting, it was not happening. Now I will try to stay up with things. I will try to get pics up later. Into the Waddington Range of B.C.!

MOZAMBIQUE

After a full eleven months of working at the Deaf school plus spending about three weeks of vacation working with Deaf groups in the wilderness, it was time to take a personal vacation.

With a good friend's peace corp stint in Mozambique almost finished, I grabbed the opportunity to visit her. Leaving everything going on at home was challenging but I managed to get packed up and on the plane. Four long planes and two cab rides later and having crossed both the prime meridian as well as the equator, I arrived in Jenny's rual village of Amatongas.

One of the most memorable experiences from those first days was going to church. Being a mixture of Portuguese and local dialects, I understood nothing. I sat there on a little wooden log enjoying the faces, the singing, and the whole scene. Toward the end of the service and after the preacher gave the entire serman again in English for my sole benefit, he had me and Jenny come before the congregation to introduce me (everyone already knew Jenny). I was introduced and then he asked if we'd like to shake hands. I nodded and soon realized he meant with the whole congregation. So up they came one by one and Jenny I greeted each one. A fantastic way to be introduced to the community.

On the way home it was requested that we stopped by a local man's home to offer prayers of well-being. He was suffering from Malaria. He came outside, looking cold in his jacket, and we prayed and all offered what we could in the form of words and prayers.

Before I left home I looked around my room to see if there was anything else I should bring. I spied a flashlight that had a laser on it and thought it might be fun to play with. And one early evening just as it had gotten dark I decided to try it out.

From inside the house with the laser point through a hole in the screen door I turned it on. Suddenly one kid noticed it and yelled, "Itcho!" I turned it off..and then on again...and soon began the calls and laughter that we would hear most nights afterwards. From 5 to more than 10 kids running about the sand yard yelling "itcho, itcho, ITCHO!" which later we found out means, "There!"

The kids would chase the little red light all around the year, trying to step on it, slap it, or even cup it in their hands. They quite enjoyed themselves and the joy and delight that we could feel in their laughter was exquisit. They ran around and around and around until they were exhausted, though still wanting more, at which point they were sent home. Needless to say, the "itcho," as we began to call the laser, staying in Amatongas so Jenny could continue the fun.

Another day while Jenny was making soap and knitting with some of the community's women, I wandered over to the abandoned train station as I though I heard some sort of ball game happening. Northing was happening but soon I was to play some of the most fun soccer I have ever played.

The station was one big room - doors on either end to serve as goals. I was told I was on a team awith two boys and we began to play. We did not have a regulation soccer ball. Instead we had maybe the coolest soccer ball I have ever played with. It was Mateo's ball - carefully handcrafted with definite skill, maturity and quiet pride. An inflated condom served as the ball's core. Around this were wrapped discarded plastic bags and this was all wrapped in bits and pieces of yarn or strips of fabric. More plastic bags were added followed by more yarn. The finished product was amazing. Perfectly round and wonderful to play with.

We played and played and played then took a break for lunch and then went back to play some more. None of these kids knew much English and I know little Portuguese. We knew numbers of each others' languages to keep track of the score - and the rest we did through smiles and gestures. I was heartbroken when the kids said, "mana?" meaning "tomorrow?" - asking if I could play again. At last they understood that I was going home to America.

Not knowing if I'd ever return, I didn't want to leave. I know I would love playing with the kids but I didn't really understand how impactful the whole experience would be . These kids have nothing except what they make or find. And they are independent, strong and happy. There is so much to write, but it is still overwhelming, so I've just picked out a few memories. Hopefully the pictures will tell more. I was there for only a short time, but it was an amazing time that I shall not forget any time soon. I hope to return, for the people, the soccer, the land, and of course, a few more rounds of itcho. Thank you, Jen!

TLC-OB Sailing

THE LEARNING CENTER FOR THE DEAF – OUTWARD BOUND

(A Letter to our sponsers:)

After three days of paid “course prep”, more than six months of planning, and maybe five years of my own dreaming, the students arrived with the noon sun. With only seven days together, we did our best to get onto the boats with an expediency of two instructors who know the power of life at sea. We checked their gear, gave them heavy duty foul weather gear (we would need them) and life jackets otherwise known as personal flotation devices. Then we had gave our required US Coast Guard briefings and an introduction to the 30-foot sprit rigged wooden ketch known to its sailors as a pulling boat. Finally, we granted our new sailors permission to come aboard, stow their gear and get ready to shove off. This is where the first challenge was given to them.

My co-instructor, John Wilcox, gave the “watch” the task. They needed to figure out how to get off the dock and to the mooring, which was about 30 yards away. They were given 5 minutes to make a plan, and then we shoved off.

It was not the prettiest rowing I have ever seen, but for this rowing initiative, it is never pretty. The beautiful part is watching the understanding that comes during the discussion afterwards – that they see it helps to have the rowers face the rear of the boat so they can see the captain, that it helps to approach from downwind, that the watch needs to plan out the entire maneuver, not just the beginning of it. They understand, not because we told them, but because they tried first, recognized some things worked, some things didn’t, and then could understand the why behind how best to move a pulling boat under oars. This learning methodology continued throughout the course.

We left our home port of Wheeler Bay under oars at around 1800 hours and were anchored safely in Long Cove at 1900 hours with a light southerly breeze of about 5 knots. John stayed in the cockpit to help the cooks make our dinner while I took the rest forward and taught them how to set up our shelter. Soon dinner was deliciously had, our shelter was up, the rotating anchor watch was explained and tired bodies were ready for their first night of sleeping on the oars – our long wooden oars are laid from bow to stern and students sleep on their foam pads which are laid over the oars. (Sounding worse than it is, I once had one watch so accustomed to sleeping on the oars that when we spent a night on a tent platform on Hurricane Island, the group elected to bring the oars to the tent platform so they could sleep on them.)

I was delighted to be woken up many times that first night by the anchor watch person as it proved to me that the students were taking their job seriously. The students questioned the rocks, the tide, and the anchor. These students were on it. And I could rest a little easier knowing they would not hesitate to sound the alarm should anything be amiss.

After each person serving roughly an hour’s anchor watch and sleeping a night on the oars, it was 0500 hours – wake up time. And then “dip” time. Each day, much to the early morning disgruntleness of students (and some staff), we take a “dip” into the ocean – to clean ourselves and to wake ourselves up. It can be quite enjoyable, especially after the fact, and frequently one student will tell another with a shrug of the shoulders, who is preparing for the morning ritural, “It’s not that bad.” After all, it was the end of July when the temperature of the water was a balmy 58 degrees F. This contrasts to the May water (and air) temperatures of the mid 40’s.

Breakfast was had, an introduction lesson on the charts was given, some new knots were learned and were were finally ready to sail. We raised our sails, lifted the “hook” at 0930h and were on our way south towards Burnt Island. We had a delightful sail, and the students learned the fundamentals of sailing – points of sail, tacking, gibing – along with more terminology – being in irons, leeward, windward, and so on. By the time we arrived at Burnt, they could tack and gibe and take the boat where they wanted. There was still some refining to do but they were doing very well for the first day of sailing.

The following morning we had a 0500 wake up and went for a run on Burnt Island. It was nice to get our legs on land again since we hadn’t been on land at all during the previous day. We ran through woods and fields and then took our dip off the Burnt Island pier which, at low tide, was about 15 feet above the water. This proved exciting for some and very challenging for others. All made the jump and all were awake and excited afterwards either for the fun of the jump or for the satisfaction of pushing through their fears. Back to the boat for breakfast and then out to the east (cliff) side of the island where the students would begin to understand what is known as “the brotherhood (or sisterhood) of the rope.” Climbing is rarely a solo sport, and there was much teamwork in getting each person to the top of their climb. With each climb a belayer standing below, in control of the rope, stood just above the high tide line. As most of the students had never climbed before, nor thought that they might be able to scale a near vertical 30 foot rock face, all were happy and excited at the end.

After regrouping at the boats, we prepared for solo drop. One by one, and armed with only the essentials, we dropped the students off around the outer edge of the island. They would be alone during the afternoon and night - something that is increasingly rare in this day and age. They would generally enjoy the time to themselves after a day and a half of being on a 30 foot boot with 7 other people. They would have time to reflect on the first part of the course, the upcoming second part of the course, their life, or they could chose to do nothing at all. But regardless of what they planned to do, being alone on an island coast is an impactful experience.
I walked past each person’s solo site just before dark to make sure all was well. Some students were already asleep while others were sitting on a rock or log, quietly looking over the ocean. It is always a peaceful time.

We had a long way to go the following morning so students were picked from their solo sights at first light. All were well and when we discussed the experience over breakfast, it became apparent that the experience of being alone with only a tarp as shelter on the edge of an island on the Maine coast was not something that they will forget. Clearly, some self-confidence had been gained during the night.

The fog had rolled in during the night and it was to stay with us for two days. We had hoped to cross West Penobscot Bay and anchor near Hurricane Island but with the fog, the Northeast headwinds, and a foul tide, we soon realized it would be safer not to cross so that we would not be caught out in the fog as the sun went down. The navigation in the fog kept us busy, recording our headings and our speeds to give us dead reckoned positions on the chart. We made it to Mosquito Head cove and spend a nice evening there. With a light rain that had begun, the tarp was set up quickly and soon we had a cozy cocoon of warmth and relative dryness in which to cook dinner, write in our journals and chat before the meal.

As is normally the custom for a Hurricane Island sailing course, with everyone holding hands, a quote is shared with the group and followed by a moment of silence before our meal. But apparently this was no ordinary course. As you will see at the end of the video, this moment of silence quickly became a time where we would all shake our hands, laugh and smile at one another.

The fog continued the next day and we made slow progress back towards Wheeler Bay. We all took turns at the oars and made our way with a combination of wind power and human power. Rowing always makes the students very appreciative of the wind. We arrived the following day after a beautiful morning sail – what luxury to have a good wind and good visibility. The fog had finally cleared to reveal the beautiful Maine coast and a perfect wind had come up. An Outward Bound boat full of instructors came a few miles out to say hello and then it was time to head in. We arrived to many staff waving and smiling to welcome us home. After doing a very thorough boat and gear clean, we had a wonderful last evening meeting in which we discussed each day of the course and each student told what the course had meant - and was going to mean - to them.

On the morning of their pickup the students had their final challenge. The “marathon” - a long early morning run after a pulling boat row out to a buoy. The run completed and one last dip taken, it was time for the course to end. The students exchanged course certificates with their peers, in turn, commenting on how each person helped to make our group a great one.

Tears were coming from student eyes as they pulled away in the van and parents have told me of lasting effects. I wish the course had been longer but I was so happy that it really happened. We had rain, fog, sailing, rowing, rock climbing, swimming, running and lots of games. The students stayed positive throughout the whole course and showed great support of one another. There were many times when the whole boat was overtaken with laughter. As to what else the students have learned, I will let the DVD and the students’ sponsor letters speak for themselves. Thank you again for all your support.


Sincerely,

Ben Urmston and the intrepid crew of Pulling Boat #6

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do then by the ones you did. So throw off the bowline, sail away from the safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

HELP US BE OUTWARD BOUND!

Hello gang,

I have set up and am instructing a one week Outward Bound sailing course this summer, July 28-August 3, on the coast of Maine. I work at The Learning Center for the Deaf, in Framingham, MA, and when I noticed a lack of outdoor educational programs for Deaf youth, I decided to set up a course with Outward Bound, for whom I’ve been working for since 2001.

Outward Bound’s missions is ''To inspire character development and self-discovery in people of all ages and walks of life through challenge and adventure, and to impel them to achieve more than they ever thought possible, to show compassion for others and to actively engage in creating a better world."

I’ve seen the impact an Outward Bound course can have on all types of youth and I want this opportunity to be available to the Deaf youth I’ve been working with in Framingham and in other local Deaf school programs. Outward Bound has been very generous in giving every student a 50% scholarship, but at the reduced cost of $630 per student it is still too much for some to afford. We currently have six students but are required to have eight to have the program run. The students who are in need are already writing letters and doing what they can to raise the funds themselves.

If you want to help these students and Outward Bound’s Deaf programming please send what you can, no amount is too small, made out to Outward Bound, to Benjamin Urmston, 79 Hollis Street, Sherborn, MA 01770. In return for a donation you will receive a DVD of our course and a letter describing the highlights of our course. Thank you for your support and for helping these kids to be OUTWARD BOUND!!!!