A Grateful Hornpipe - Ashley on the Hornpipe

My faith in humanity is restored.

If you do no believe that people are good, if you have lost faith in the—treat others as you would be treated—love thy neighbor mentality—if you think the world is full of people looking out for number one, selfish, driven by their own self-interests, then you need to do what we are doing.

Get yourself on a 75 percent renovated (this is an approximation I heard Rob give the other day) sailboat, in the middle of January, run it night and day, despite sea sickness, despite shallow waters, despite it being so cold that there are no other boats on the water like you, do this until morale is dwindling. Do this: motor, sail, go. Get out into a world where things are likely to break down, where things are likely to become difficult, frustrating, and occasionally, down right impossible to deal with. Do this, like we have, like we are doing, and you will find an incredible, undeniable truth about people:

People are good and kind. People are generous.

People want to help you, despite the dire, ridiculous absurdities of your situation, despite the fact that you willingly put yourself in these conditions. People want to make you dinner. People want to buy you groceries. They want to drive you around until you find what you need, or call their uncle, their friend, the guy they know who has just what you have been looking for, who knows everything about the thing you need to know about. They want to give and give. They jump at you from out the woodwork. Unexpected. Everywhere. Because you need help and they want to help, they will help you.

This is what I have learned in my first three weeks on the Fishers Hornpipe.

We arrived in Southport, North Carolina late in the afternoon of Friday the 28th. Just past Cape Fear we re-entered the Intracoastal Waterway after 26 hours on the open ocean.

Ashley on the Hornpipe - Life on the Hornpipe

“Shore leave!” Yell Joe and Tracy, just about every time we get off the boat. It’s a little nautical joke, something sailors would yell after months at sea, heading into town lookin’ for women and booze. Shore leave means that we have been given permission to pursue to luxuries of life, not usually afforded to the endless blue days of a sailor. Shore leave means that, for a short precious time, for those sea-sick or just plain sea-weary, life will goddamn stay steady, stop moving: stop lurching us forward, jamming us backward, against walls, against counters, against every square inch of the boat, back and forth and back and forth, legs wobbly and stomach tumbling. Shore leave means land, and all of the comforts and indulgences that go with it.

Monday the 17th, for the first time, we motored through the night. Together in shifts, working as a crew, six people, in two pairs, staggered every two hours, we managed to drive continually south for twenty-eight consecutive hours. This is what it took for the Hornpipe to blow its way down Long Island Sound, past Connecticut, past New York, and land safely in Sandy Hook, New Jersey. From just after sunrise that Monday morning, until long after sunset, the Sound staged a mad battle between wind and current. The war was waged in the waves below us and the sufferers fell to the battle blows of sea-sickness. By the end of

Breaking the Ice!

Ashley on the Hornpipe

Monday – January 10, 2010
I have never sailed a boat. I have barely ever even been on a sailboat. From my perspective a “rig” is something you drive, a “boom” is something that happens when you fall down. I don’t know my stern from my bow. If you are looking for technical knowledge of the Fishers Hornpipe (FHP), nautical terminology, or anything resembling the sea diaries of a serious sailor, you will be sorely disappointed with my perspective. Everyone who knows anything about sailing or the FHP is busy preparing for our departure. Everyone else is too busy rigging stuff and figuring out why the engine keeps flooding to sit down and write a blog. That said, I am learning. And yesterday, I did a pretty decent job of helping the crew fit a frozen, stubborn, non-elastic biminy to the cockpit. (…If that sounded like pretty decent usage of sailing jargon, I must admit that I had to ask Nadine what each of these things were called: “Nadine, what do you call that hood-tingum that we put on yesterday? (biminy). Nadine, is there a word for the place that you sit and steer on a boat?” (cockpit). ) With my sincerest apologies for not being the most knowledgeable about what it is that we are currently doing, and what exactly we are about to embark on, I hope to occasionally share with you my humble perspective of our voyage on the Fishers Hornpipe.

This Thursday, January the 13th a crew of five Island School teachers: Rob, Nadine, Jonny, Matt and Ashley (me) and two other crew: Rob’s brother Joe, and Joe’s long time friend Tracy, will setting sail on a voyage of great magnitude. Over the next month

In the water!

 

As we prepare for our snowy departure, many of our friends and family have stopped by to visit or lend a helping hand.  Ted, Ned and Lucy(the youngest yet to be on board) inspected our safety systems and gave us a thumbs up!

 In the water she goes!  It was exciting to watch the lift carry our 23 ton boat across the yard and lower her into the water.  Before she went in we applied a final coat of bottom paint and double checked all the seacocks.  Our nerves eased when she was in the water and floating.... yes, a cement boat can float! 

First night in the water at the Wickford Cove Marina.  She looks great!

Painting the FHP

Our summer is already winding down on Fishers Hornpipe.  Here is picture of Joe, fresh off the plane from Europe.  He built and installed an engine cover for Twinkie, which is ready for him to come back and put on a coat of paint or two.

Here is Aunt Marion onboard the FHP.  Marion and Dean have been putting us up and feeding us this summer.  Thanks for all the delicious meals, company, and air conditioning!

Here is Mac rolling on barrier coat to the hull below the water line.  We used an expensive and toxic two part epoxy barrier coat to seal the concrete hull and provide a primer for bottom paint.  We put three coats below the waterline and one coat above the waterline.  We even covered the deck with a coat of barrier coat.

Here is Nadine starting to roll on the ablative bottom paint.  The bottom paint is the final coat for th hull below the waterline.  It looks nice and clean, though slightly bumpy, with dark red bottom paint.

Here is a picture of the stern with the bottom paint rolled on and the white barrier coat primer on the topside.  Blue tape is covering the waterline are that will eventually be a grey or black boot stripe.  After a lot of testing, searching, and advice from the experts, we have decided to paint the hull white instead of dark blue.

We are headed down to RI for a couple more days of painting and wrapup work before we head out for the Bahamas.  We will post a final set of pictures of our finished product for the summer.

...surviving the heat and making progress

The new spreaders are on!  Andrea Watson came out to visit from Boulder and helped us attach the new spreaders to the mast.  Nadine and Andrea hung halfway up the mast and screwed the new spreaders into place.   Thanks Andrea!  She also helped us complete some deck work in between visits to the beach.

Last week the hull was sandblasted down to bare concrete from the waterline down.  There were 6 layers of old epoxy, barrier coat, and bottom paint!  The topsides, above the waterline, were sanded and ground down in damaged areas to prepare for painting.  Mac and Lucy came down to help us sand and fair the hull in order to get it ready for paint.  

Here is Mac applying a coat of fairing compound to the waterline area.  Despite the old chipped and damaged paint, the hull is in very strong structural condition.  You can hit it hard with a hammer and not even leave a mark!

We also finally fired up Twinkie our new diesel engine.  He turned over and started immediately on the very first try!  It was very encouraging to hear the roar of a strong diesel engine coming from below.

The electrical panel and battery are now installed and powering the bilge pump, engine, and various other electronics.  Thanks to Benny Urmston, who stopped by and helped with wiring during a brief visit.  We powered up the radar and were treated to a pong-like 1980's era screen with fully functioning radar.

Thanks again to Marion and Dean who have been hosting us at their house in nearby East Greenwich!