A Tall Ship And A Star

I stole an afternoon on Saturday. Not an easy task. It took at least half an hour to convince my boss that, since we couldn't do any work until after five, it was better for all of us if we didn't show up until then. Better for him, because he saves money, and we're already over budget. Better for us because, frankly, we needed a few hours away from work to do something other than sleep - something that would make us feel human again. Eventually, finally, he relented. My partner in crime slept in until early afternoon. I set my alarm, and dragged myself down to the tall ship festival.

I say 'dragged myself' as thought I didn't want to go, but I did. I've been wanting to go for ages. I've been aching to see a tall ship up close for years. (And aching to sail one - so if I disappear to Aberdeen or Nova Scotia one day, you'll all know why.) Still, it's tough, on your first morning off in a week, when you know you'll be working until 5am, to crawl out of bed when the alarm starts blaring. But I knew that I needed this - that my soul needed this - and so I went.

I only had a few hours, and the site was spread out across the bay, so I decided to hit Tall Ship Island - four ships surrounding a couple of barges - and guarantee that I'd see at least a few ships. Besides which, the Lady Washington was docked there, and I have to admit I'm a bit of a fan girl and couldn't resist the chance to see her in person. So I bought my ticket (there are probably a dozen people I could have called to get in free, but I couldn't risk it - you never know when a freebie will fall through), and headed down to the site. Getting in was no problem. Getting out to Tall Ship Island took nearly two hours. The lineups were longer than Disneyland, and apparently the attendance was much lower than hoped for. Seems that's a good thing, since if there had been a larger crowd, I never would have made it out.

Fortunately, everyone in line seemed in fairly good spirits. I bided my time, keeping myself occupied by knitting, listening to the Celtic bands, talking to the people around me, and nibbling on the free chocolate they kept handing out to us, apparently to keep up placid. Finally, eventually, our little harbour cruise ship came to pick us up, and not a moment too soon. Another half hour, and I would have had to walk away.

(Now, before I get a lecture, I understand that there are occupancy limits. Part of my job seems to be fighting with people about that. - "No, you can't have more than 350 people in this room." "Why not?" "Because that's the limit the fire marshal has put on the building." "But there won't be a fire." "A: You don't know that. B: That's irrelevant. C: This is not an option. It's the law and I'm not going to argue about it with you. You can't sell more than 350 tickets." *sigh* - Still, there are better ways to keep a large volume of people moving. Guided tours, for example, would limit the time people spend on the Island while still allowing them to see all the ships.)

On Tall Ship Island, I made my way first to the Lynx - a 122' long, 23' tall, Square Topsail Schooner from California. (I know very little about ships, sad to say, aside from the fact that I find them enchanting. I smell a new research project... But I've decided to include some info from the festival program for those who aren't as embarrassingly uninformed as I am.) She had no lineup, which made her the most appealing for the moment. I spend a few minutes looking around, taking some pictures and buying a postcard, but her crew wasn't very chatty, and I was short on time, so I quickly moved on.

On to the Lady Washington. (She's a 112' long, 89' tall Brig from Aberdeen, Washington. You know her as the Interceptor.) I was going to save her until last, but there was (another) long linup. Well, okay, this one was only twenty minutes - a mere fraction of the time I'd waited earlier - but, again, longer than many of the lineups at Disneyland. Still, she was well worth the wait. For starters, her crew, who was dressed in various degrees of period-esque costume, was more than willing to answer any questions you might think to ask. In fact, they were eager to - sometimes even answering the question in your mind before you'd had a chance to voice it. They are all, clearly, extremely proud of their ship, and with good reason. She is beautiful. Not ostentatious, or overwhelmingly impressive, but... elegant. Classic. Something about her lines, her black rigging, the sheen of her wood, the way her deck has weathered - it excites the imagination. This is where the moving to Aberdeen thing comes in. That's her home port, and she's a training vessel, and it's taking a lot of willpower right now to keep from selling everything I own so that I can go down and volunteer. Maybe in the winter, or maybe next year or... I don't know, but I think this is something I have to do at some point.

Now I was running out of time, and there were two ships left to see - the Zodiac (160' long 26' tall Gaff Schooner from Seattle) and the Pallada (speaking of overwhelmingly impressive, this one's a 356' long 46' tall Full-Rigged Ship from Russia). Again, my decision was determined by lineups, or rather, the lack of a lineup for the Pallada. I only spend five minutes or so on her, but I got some amazing photos. Then I got in yet another lineup to catch a shuttle back to land. Was late to work, in the end, which wasn't the end of the world. Everyone else was late too, and the rehearsal went long, so even showing up at 5:30 I sat around for almost an hour before I could do anything. The shuttle came just in time though. My phone call was "I'm going to be a bit late - we're just docking now," instead of "I'm going to be late. I'm stuck on Tall Ship Island and have not idea when I'm going to be able to get off."

All in all, the most productive afternoon I've had in weeks. It made at least the first part of the day not feel like torture. My only regret? The ships have all sailed away without me.

And now for the pictures. Theyr'e not in chronological order - ten points to the first person who figures out what order they're in. Points can be redeemed for bragging rights. Click on thumbnails to see larger image.

Tall Ship Island as seen from shore.


The Lady Washington's emergency distress beacon.


The Maple Leaf. A ship not in the program, so I have no idea what her specs are.


The Lady Washington's compass. The compass on the Lynx is nicer looking, but the red light dangling in front of it ruins the shot.


The ships' wheel on the Lynx. The inscription says "BE EXCELLENT TO EACH OTHER AND TO YOUR SHIP". Good rule to live by, I think.


One of the masts on the Pallada.


Another mast on the Pallada as seen from the bottom.


The Maple Leaf's bowsprit. (She was the only ship really visible from the linup, so I've got a few pictures of her.)


Approaching Tall Ship Island.


A mast on the Lady Washington.


The deck of the Maple Leaf.


A ladder on the Pallada. This needs to be made a B&W when I have some time to play.


The masts of all frour ships as seen from the deck of the Lynx.


The Lady Washington.


Some of the lines on the Lynx.


Pre-boarding entertainment - slightly scary stilt-walker.


Approaching Tall Ship Island - featuring the Zodiac.


Isn't she cute? This is a replica of a Viking ship, called the Munin. (42' long, 10 ' tall, with a 400 square ft. sail - for those who care.) She's from Vancouver, BC.


Another view of a mast on the Lady Washington.


More Lady Washington. If you can't tell, that's an axe.


Some fancy ropework on the Lynx.


Some of the Lady Washington's crew. They're not too shabby either.


Part of a mast and sail on the Lynx.


Leaving Tall Ship Island. A full view of the Pallada.


And this is Isaac - a pint-sized package of unharnessed energy. He kept us entertained in the lineups with his dancing, storytelling, martial arts, and general enthusiasm about everything.