the jib is up

i'm so punny. But seriously, folks, today marked the completion of the mains'l rig and the majority of the jib rig on Skipjack Sigsbee, and for two people, one of whom is learning sailing from a theatrical point of view, I think progress is acceptable. It took the crews of three boats to haul our massive 40' boom from its winter storage site and haul it into position at perfect head-bonking height on our mast.

I spent about half of last week about 70' in the air at the top of my mast, shackling large wooden blocks into position and running line through them while learning the functions of the line systems I was installing. I'm starting to get the hang of the communication style onboard, though it doesn't as yet come naturally. Captain and crew always repeat whatever command they've just received, verbatim, in order to confirm that they got the whole command and they'll get right along to doing it. This technique is helpful given the long distances between crewmembers and the tricky interference that the wind tends to provide. Moreover, if the commandant fails to hear your echo, s/he will repeat it until the echo is provided. If you're new and forget, you start thinking everyone around you is hugely impatient--you're tying the knot as quickly as you can... There's all sorts of terminology and technique that too many years of theatre training are conflicting with.

For instance: on stage, all directions are in reference to the stage floor, from the perception of the actor. Barely anyone alive has missed the concept of "Stage right" but it becomes second nature after a while. Likewise anytime a batten is being flown away from the stage, you say the line is Going Out, when it comes back its Coming In, holes in the stage are called Traps, and most of the fabric hanging around is referred to as curtains or rags. When a line is secured to the pinrail you say it is Locked, and if a line is too heavy or out of balance you add weight to the counterweight system to make it easy to handle. When changing out weight on the weight rail you make sure all hands stay clear below, you empty your pockets and tie any needed items to yourself, and if you drop anything you shout "Heads!"

On a boat, all directions are in reference to the boat deck, and are absolute. Barely anyone alive has missed the concepts of Port and Starboard, but I nevertheless have to turn my back to the stern and make the little L's out of my fingers to remember where I'm supposed to be. Likewise anytime a line is hauled away from the deck, you say the line is being Hauled Away, and when it comes back it is being Eased Off. Holes in the deck are called Hatches, and most of the fabric hanging around is referred to as sails. When a line is secured to the pinrail you say it is Fast, and if a line is too heavy or out of balance you get more people and pull harder. When being hoisted up the mast in a bo'sun's chair frequently your haulers are right below you, you empty your pockets and tie any needed items to yourself, and if you drop anything you shout "Stand Out From Under!"

Last week marked a number of accomplishments for me--i learned Mousing (a method of securing shackle bolts with wire), i entrusted my own life to my own figure-8 follow through in a fairly straightforward line transfer at 70', I found the enoch pratt free library central branch (way cool!) and even visited a local free art gallery (the Walters). They had free cookies in the sculpture garden. I also got to paint Sigsbee's trailboards. They're very pretty.

This week has brought its own accomplishments and failures--Sigsbee is about ready to sail, and she's looking pretty sweet, but I'm still a doofus who has a hard time remembering the difference between a halyard and a topping lift. I know every inch of my boat, from the tip of the bowsprit to the four feet of boom that overhang the stern, and the fuzzy lightning rod at the top of the mast, but i can never remember where the lineman's pliers go when i'm done with them. In the process of learning hundreds of new things, at least a few dozen fall by the wayside, and unfortunately my brain lacks discrimination when it comes to forgetting the important things.

Yesterday during deck wash i tripped over a partially-invisible line and proceeded to slip in a soapy puddle, crashing unceremoniously into the bowsprit and causing my entire back to make a delightful "prrrrrit" noise. Its just sore, a day and a half later, but that was pretty scary. The treacherous line has since been moved to its permanent home and is no longer a threat. Skipjacks are work boats, and on account of that as much allowance as possible has been made in their design to ensure their easy and efficient use. And that means limiting the tripping hazards.
Life aboard Taney is going okay. I've figured out that a regular 3:30am alarm is actually delivery trucks to the Hard Rock Cafe next door and not warnings for the ship at all. And the shipkeeper is easy enough to avoid if you schedule your departures and arrivals right. In all, its interesting and fairly quiet, once you figure out how to make it so.