Under sail

When I woke up, it was very clear something was different. I had fallen asleep to the (not at all gentle) purr of the twin diesel screws. Now, being woken up for the 2300 to 0300 watch, I couldn't hear them at all. The deck was pitch black, but I could tell the ship was rolling a lot more than what I was used to. I swung out of the hammock and onto the deck, making a futile attempt to avoid stepping on the people scattered across the deck sleeping. Then came the fun of rummaging through my seabag. If you want to know what using a seabag is like, try the following:

1. Buy a military surplus duffelbag
2. Set up duffelbag so it is mostly vertical (Try hanging it from a doorknob, this is close to the right height)
3. Place an item you know you will need into the duffelbag first.
4. Pile 2-3 weeks of dirty laundry on top of said item.
5. Turn off all of the lights in the room
6. Dig through the clothes. (Hurry! You only have 2 minutes until you have to be on duty on deck!)
7. Items deemed in the way are only to be removed in a last ditch effort.

Did you find what you were looking for? Didn't think so. As I stepped rather unprepared into the crisp lake breeze late this evening, it dawned on me why the engines had mysteriously fallen silent. We were sailing. The ship rolled gently back and forth, and I sat there stunned by a few things. First, sailing was a really, really nice alternative to motoring. Second, I felt like an idiot for not recognizing earlier that we were sailing. Third, sailing was a really, really nice alternative to motoring.

Then came tiller duty. For those of you that don't know what this is, instead of having a wheel that turns the rudder, the Niagara has a big stick attached directly to the rudder. To turn the ship, you get some people to push the stick. But mostly you just hold the stick steady, and watch a compass to make sure your holding the stick right. When you're rolling a lot however, the compass swings like 10 degrees to either side, and it's impossible to tell how well you're steering the ship.

Normally, this would drive me mad, but under sail, it didn't bother me as much. You quickly learn to just take the average of these huge swings and guess that as your heading. From there it's easy. The procedure goes as "Admire stars, look at compass, move tiller to correct, look at compass to make sure you're right, rinse repeat." This pattern becomes second nature very fast. It may have been my first time steering a 200 foot long sailing ship, but I was going to get a lot more practice in before I left the ship.

My assigned duty station for most of the time was tiller, meaning that if we were docking, practicing emergency drills, or had an actual emergency, another sailor and I would be in control of making sure the ship went the direction it was supposed to go.

It was nice. The tiller at times can be tiring, but emergency maneuvers are plain exciting. For man overboard drills, it usually requires turning the ship as fast as possible while it is still at its cruising speed. The tiller transforms from something of a toy, to a deadly weapon. There is no goofing off in this situation. You are in control of the safety of the other tiller worker, and they are in control of yours. If your grip slips or you let go, the momentum of at least 200 pounds of solid wood moving at a very high speed will come crashing into your partner. It works vice versa for you as well. Speed and precision rule supreme over the situation.

© Kyle Packer