Hey Rigger!

I knew it was not going to be easy with seven white guys to teach before heading out the Golden Gate toward Panama but at least we could start at the beginning since none of them knew anything about sailing. The beautiful 125-foot Odyssey was the incentive and getting her safely back to the San Sebastian Islands required my patience and keeping their morale high as well as dropping the me being Black thing…

The stays were okay, but like the shrouds were hanging loose. The jib halyards were coiled with twists on the pin-rails. Nothing had been oiled, greased nor varnished in a long time in this forward section of Odyssey. I had been evaluating this section for a little over fifteen minutes and had another four-fifths of the boat to go.

By the time I had finished my appraisal I looked up to see them walking down the docks like a wavering flock of drunken sailors. It did make me smile as though recognising something from a movie. The movie ended when they stepped aboard. They didn’t look around at the boat at all but were consumed with who they were to each other. The talk was of the women they saw passing by them in Sausalito, the cuteness of the place, football merging into the prospects for baseball.

I nodded the captain, Brad, over and we moved to the bow away from the clumped group of them slowly milling around looking for places to lean and sit and wait.

‘What do you have there?’ asked Brad, referring to my notebook.

‘That you really let the boat go.’

He stopped smirking and started to look like he might want to get angry, then relaxed when he saw I wasn’t backing down. Brad took on an expression of concern about the list on my notepad and moved closer to investigate. I showed him without releasing it.

‘How long you been sailing, Rodrick?’

‘A long time, Brad.’

‘And you been to sea?’

‘A lot of times, Brad.’

‘We could use a mariner with a lot of experience.’

‘You can say that again, Brad.’

He smiled at me with a tremendous amount of warmth, and I confess, he confused me.

Brad turned to the crew. ‘Okay, you lubbers…’ they quieted and looked at their captain, ‘ this here is Rodrick our Sailing Master. Now, what that means is that Rodrick here will teach you how to sail this boat…’ he looked to me, ‘How to rig it and how to sail it… and if you are real good he might even let you in on navigationing it… navigating it.’

One of the men raised his hand. He was a shorter, skinny guy with dark hair and a whispy goatee. Brad nodded to him and he lowered his hand.

‘Just wanted to know what we have to learn all that for?’

I said nothing, though Brad had looked to me for the answer.

Then Brad shook his head, ’What you’ve got to learn it for is to take this historic vessel from here to there. There being the San Sebastian Islands, boyo.’

I had heard boyo before in a movie and wondered why I never heard it amongst any of the sailors I knew. I sort of liked the sound.

‘Okay.’ I addressed them. ‘You can call me Rod. You are learning how to run this ship because you will be on watches and responsible for keeping things safe. You need to know how the vessel functions in order to know what to do when you need to do something. That does not mean you will learn everything about her or sailing because sailing is an endeavour that you will be learning all of your life if you keep it a part of your life.’

They seemed to be listening so I continued, ’I don’t know why you are aboard Odyssey but you have to maintain a certain amount of discipline and hold a certain amount of responsibility. You owe those two to the rest of the crew. I will go over every piece of rigging with you and show you how it should be rigged.’

‘Thanks, Rod.’ Brad interrupted. ‘Now you got it, so let’s get moving so we can get on with this voyage, boys. Rodrick, they are in your hands.’

I smiled, ‘A ship is rigged in a circle and the circle makes it strong. You start with a keel and build up the framing to the rigging and the rigging goes up to the top of the mast and down again the other side to the framing and on back to the keel. The same, fore and aft, with the rigging to and from the keel. This holds the vessel together.’

I stopped smiling and said, ’We will start with the shrouds and stays.’

I put my hand out and onto the nearest shroud.

‘This is a foremast starboard lower shroud. It reinforces the foremast and helps keep it straight at the lowest point that will enable the sail to raise to its highest point. In other words, you cannot raise the forward edge of the foresail any higher than where this shroud is bound round the foremast. And, adjusting these two on this side and those two on that side keeps the mast relatively straight which helps the sail form and the initial movement of air along this sail.’

The man I knew as Simon raised his hand.

‘Yeah?’

Simon asked a little sheepishly, ’Why is it called a shroud?’

‘I don’t know. I always look at it as having a lot of lines that hide the sun from you a bit. It is to hold the mast steady from its sides and on the older vessels, and I think the origin is around the 4th century but I could be wrong, back then there would be a lot of rigging on the side of the mast.’

Simon nodded, ’Thanks. I’ll look into that some day.’

‘The middle shroud goes nearly all the way to the top of the mast and adjusts the mast upper part for the same reason.

‘You adjust the shrouds using these bottle screw turnbuckles and for gaff rigged vessels you do not need to make the mast rigidly straight. You want the mast to lean a bit as the breeze moves by it. The lines hold the sail to it and allows air flow to the sail a bit away from the mast.’

I could see the glazes going over their eyes and wondered how to keep them interested in this aspect of basic sailing.

‘We’ll tune the rigging later. Those wires forward there are stays. These are shrouds and those are stays. They have similar purposes in the securing of the mast, but the stays also act to strengthen the fore and aft tensions for the sails. The staysail stay can be pulled tight making the staysail leading edge straighter and more efficient by pulling on the running backstay. The running backstay,' I pointed to their drooping shapes, ‘acts as a stay to tension the forestay and foresail.’

The glazes were turning into wanderings of eyeballs.

‘We will call it quits for today but you can see that you have some things to learn and to be on this vessel with you I want you to learn at least some of these things. Tomorrow, without drinks, you will start cleaning up Odyssey and then you will all go over the rigging. Then we will go into the running rigging. You are dismissed.’

I decided to get off Odyssey and go get myself a drink. I was not prepared for a crew who knew nothing of sailing to take a ship as large as this into the ocean and down some rugged coastline, through the Panama Canal and across a dangerous beam sea stretch of the Caribbean. As I jumped over the bulwark cap Brad called to me.

I stood and waited and he jumped over the bulwark also and motioned for me to continue on up to the dock. We walked with me ahead of him.

‘Rod, I see you might be a bit frustrated by the experience level of the crew?’ He was walking alongside me now. ‘I got to say that they showed real potential on the trip to Sausalito. I trust them for the voyage back to the San Sebastians.’

‘I don’t. I don’t understand what you are getting at, Brad. You don’t know much about sailing yourself and have probably never been to sea under sail… have you?’

Brad stopped and put a hurt feelings look, ‘How do you think we got the boat here? I found her down in the Sea of Cortez, me and Bill brought her on up here and then down the Sacramento to Pittsburg where I lived.’

‘You and Bill sailed Odyssey over 1500 miles?’

‘We had a couple of friends with us in different spots, but yeah, we did it and it was a great trip; really got me into the spirit and wonder of the planet’s forces at work… ya know, every second of the day all that power is just moving us around. And she was just a beauty ta sail.’

‘Why is she in the shape she is in now?’

‘Why do I have to sell her? If ya ain’t got the capital to hold a piece of history together than you owe it to history to give her to those who can.’

We talked and talked about the nobleness of our undertaking and the seriousness with which it needed to take an old very heavy multi-rig over five thousand miles along a coastline that changes its weather and current temperament like a sadistic witch. The bouillabaisse was wonderful, the atmosphere, after a bottle of wine, was Marseilles and we both agreed to forget past thoughts about the other.

That night as I was falling asleep I heard Brad and Bill laughing and wondered if it was about me.

The next morning after Bill had served us porridge, toast and coffees we began our physical lessons on the sailing of a gaff rigged schooner. My first lecture was on the aerodyamics of sail form and tried to establish that sailing was not a matter of force but of finesse.

I gave each of them the end of some of the lines and they started tying square and slip knots with the re-naming of them as reef knots. And then we started unfurling the big, heavy mainsail, raised the gaff a bit and began practicing tying in the reef knots. Luckily there was a bit of a breeze and they had to work at moving the canvas around and pulling the lines under the foot boltropes. It took effort and they did not seem to be accustomed to putting effort into things. We tied and untied reefs for over two hours until their fingers grew too tired to function. I suggested that we eat an early lunch and sent two of them ashore to buy a case of beer. The thought of beer made everybody smile and talk about their growing hand calluses.

I let the afternoon slack by, wondering who would practice on their own and found that none of them did. I told Brad we needed to take the boat out on San Francisco Bay and go through some basic sailing lessons, starting with the reefing but serving and understanding to this crew that they were on a ship that had a long voyage ahead. I could see Brad getting a bit worried at the prospect of putting up the sails so I reminded him that I was the sailing master and would accept all responsibilities.

I rang the fog bell at seven the next morning and made everybody handle the running backstays for both the main and fore masts. We had the staysail, foresail and mainsail loosely gasketed and the boat generally ready for a short sail by noon. Brad started up the engine and took on the helm. Bill went below to start preparing lunch. I wanted them to eat underway. The breeze was capping on the Bay and sheltered in Sausalito so it was perfect for learning on a boat this size.

The mooring lines had been cast off haphazardly with the stern line in the water. I pulled it aboard. We backed out of the berth and with a hard turn of the wheel to starboard Brad threw the gear into forward and gave it enough power to get us turning and out of the marina. I was studying the crew reaction to our leaving and they seemed relaxed about it, some smirking even.

We had the light breeze over the starboard beam. I had three of them pull up the mainsail, calling out a cadence of heaves to each pull. Simon was put on the mainsheet and when the peak was raised I had him sheet the big sail in pointing out to him when the luff settled as the signal to stop pulling the sail in. He was surprised at how easy it was to pull with the four part blocking system. I had him belay the sheet and warned him of the upcoming winds of Hurricane Gulch.

I had Big Pete man the staysail. He pulled it up and went over and sheeted it in to the luff, only I told him with this sail to let it out a bit every so often to test if the breeze was still settled in the right spot as the sail itself might stretch, or re-organise because of the changing pressure of the winds. I also told him to belay the sheet.

Brad asked when we were going to put up the foresail just as we moved into the wind path of Hurricane Gulch and Odyssey started heeling to this increase of wind.

‘Steady on the helm.’ I called to Brad, whose mouth was open. ‘Just stay steady and head toward that tall building over in San Francisco, the pyramid shaped one.’

Odyssey moved steadily along without any more heeling once the course was steadied. The sheets were loosed and pulled in again to steady the luff and she forged into the calm on the other side of the hillside depression that channels the Pacific’s wind.

I had Mikey and the Tony hoist the foresail with Simon sheeting it in once it was snug. Simon went back on the mainsheet and I assigned Mikey to the foresail sheet.

We moved with a steady slip and slap of sea onto San Francisco Bay and out of the mellowness of Richardson Bay. The first spray came aboard and a slight beam reaching heel let Odyssey be proud of being under sail again. I had Brad turn off the engine and there was only the sound of wind in rigging and the slushing of rushing by waters. We were sailing.

Bill called out that lunch was ready and I told everybody to stay where they were. I assigned two crew watches. Me, Simon and Big Pete on the Port Watch, with Mikey, Tony and Little Pete the Starboard Watch. I made Captain Brad and Bill be alternates, when they felt like it or we needed them. I told them that this was going to be our positions each time we went out on the Bay. Lunch was to be served to the Alternates and the Port Watch first, then, the Starboard Watch would be relieved. Fifteen minutes for lunch.

Brad and Bill said they would wait for the Starboard Watch. My group sat on the leeward deck with the cabin to our backs looking over the rail as San Francisco Bay’s green and grey waters, big Angel Island and tiny Alcatraz Island go by. We relieved the Starboard Watch and I felt the helm on Odyssey for the first time and it was light. The Sebastians built good fucking boats.

We practiced reefing the foresail twice, then had the Starboard Watch do the same thing. Then we came about and headed back to Sausalito. The wind was stronger now and we reefed the mainsail as a precaution. Odyssey liked what we did and moved in long surges of power. Brad, who was back on the helm, was wide-eyed and smiling with all of his teeth. The wind had also brought the chill and we were all in heavier coats with Simon the only one of us in proper foul weather gear. It was new and very yellow.

We sailed Odyssey out on the Bay for four days running, for just a little over or under two hours. We re-rigged the boat and cleaned her up and the crew looked like they were gaining in pride at being on her.

Saturday morning we rode the ebb current on out beneath the Golden Gate and away from my pastel city. The seals on Mile Rock saluted us with horn calls that made the crew return the sounds until they were hoarse. Then, we turned and saw San Francisco level out, turn green and move away as we went past the ten-fathom line and into the deep Pacific Ocean.

We had such a perfect sail down the coast we did not even pull into Moro Bay and did not stop until our anchor went down off Santa Barbara. Ashore, everybody got a little drunk, including me. Unfortunately, I also discovered again that I did not like these guys. They were rude to passers-by and reverted to the racial bitchiness that always strikes me a childish. They were never referring to me, that I could hear, in their slurs but to every race they could see in that mild, pretty beach town. The n-word term was replaced by rigger. It was going to be a long trip.