Trying times try mens souls - a parable
Wayne Johnson
cadaobh2@brgnet.com
Thu, 1 Nov 2001 19:55:21 -0500
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Aye, curse you Matey for all tyour sea farin' stories. I think you jus'
made this stuff up from reading The Really Big Storm, Kohn Tikki and Moby
Whatever. Everybody knows you can't tack across Valdez strait because of
the oil tankers. Jeez, get these details straight will ya. Other than
that, you almos had me.
If there is any thing I hate, its reading about other people's sailing
experiences. Especially, those with...parabolic...or metaphoric or
metabolic...intentions. Especially if it sounds like some day fantasy I,
myself, might have. Yup, especially those kinda stories. So, if you do
this ten, maybe fifteen, more times, I'm really going to get pissed and have
TeleBob pay you a visit.
Aarghhh.
Argh.
W.
-----Original Message-----
From: austin-ghetto-list-admin@pairlist.net
[mailto:austin-ghetto-list-admin@pairlist.net]On Behalf Of Bill Irwin
Sent: Thursday, November 01, 2001 7:27 PM
To: austin-ghetto-list@pairlist.net
Subject: Trying times try mens souls - a parable
Years ago beginning about '76 and extending up to '80 I had a large sail
boat, a 42' ketch rigged trimaran. Being a big boat it was always best to
have crew aboard to help out on a long voyage. Generally I would get
friends and accuantences to go along and sometimes I would just pick up
strangers off the dock for crew. While it was a big boat it seems that
after a week or so at sea the boat got smaller and more cramped as you were
forced to share the space with your crew members. Begining in a small space
for weeks on end, isolated on the big ocean, sharing duties around the
clock, and no way to get away for relaxation or even to have a moment alone
you could really get to know you shipmates, better than you maybe wanted to.
You got to know all about their character flaws and their strengths. Throw
in a big storm, or week of really foul and shity weather, or even 4 or 5
days of being becalmed with no wind (no wind can be very frustrating as the
boat just sits there, the empty sails noisily flogging back and forth with
each roll of the ship - hard on the nerves and hard on the rigging) you have
the stress that begins to try men's nerves and eventually their souls.
Once we had a really big storm. The waves seemed to be 50 or 60 feet as
they towered over the mast top, looking straight up at these buggers from
the wave trough can be a little frightening as they keep marching on. And
every 5 or 10 minutes one would break across the boat and a wall of water
would sweep down the decks and if you were on watch there was no escape from
being drenched. I don't know how many of you have spent a really dark night
with the wind howling in the rigging, no visibility, a torrential rain
beating down and every few minutes having a bathtub full of cold sea water
being thrown at you, you duck down and hold on to the wheel with all your
strength. Eventually you become drenched to the bone, the water slowly
creeping into the cabin on blown spray and the wet fowl weather gear of the
crew, your bunk even becoming water logged. Finally I began sleeping in my
rain slickers as protection from the wet mattress. These conditions can try
your soul and you find out what your crew mates are made of. On an other
occasion we had about a week of foul weather and we had to beat directly
into it under reefed sails. A big, choppy sea was running (the worst kind)
the going was really slow, only about a 100 miles or less a day and the wind
was cold. It seemed that every wave would slap into the boat with a
tremendous sound and sometimes the boat would fall off a wave top into the
trough with a big crashing sound and then the boat would shudder as it tried
to regain its footing. This went on for days with no end in sight, slowly
eating away at your nerves. Another opportunity to look into the eyes of
your crewmates and see what's there.
I have seen every reaction to these stressful conditions. Some become
moody and withdrawn, some become abusive and sour. I have seen big guys turn
to jello, I have seen small guys turn into superman. Once a guy puked when
a piece a gear broke loose at a bad time on a bad day. The genial dockside
conversationalist becomes the annoying motor mouth. The joker becomes sad
and morose. The lazy find new energy. The quiet become the source of
comforting words. The know-it-all, well, there is no hope for them. Most
do their duty and keep their sea sickness and fear to themselves.
Of course sailing is not all toil and trouble and conflict with the crew.
Sometimes there are moments of great joy and wonderment. I will always
remember my last night on the boat. I had sold the boat and was delivering
the boat to the new owner in Valdez, Alaska. We spent about 3 or 4 days
crossing the Gulf of Alaska and by mid day on the 4th day at sea we made the
entrance to Prince William Sound. The sail up the Sound was delightful, off
to the left was a huge glacier (the name escapes me) stretching as far as
the eye could see, bits of ice bergs were floating about and the Sound was
teaming with wildlife both in the air and in the sea. Soon nightfall came
upon us, a very dark night, we had reached the entrance to Valdez Strait - a
long narrow canyon leading to Valdez Bay. Because of the geography of the
area the wind is channeled and accelerated into Valdez Strait, the wind was
really blowing down the Strait but the sea was flat - ideal conditions for a
fast passage. God that wind was cold, blowing off the nearby glaciers. We
all had every piece of clothing we had on and foul weather gear on top of
that, we had to drink hot rum and lemon toddies just to keep warm. Because
the wind was coming down the Strait we had to tack back and forth across the
channel with only the distant blinking beacon on the mid-channel rock pile
to guide us. The wind was howling and we had full sail up - the boat was
charging ahead under full power showing us that she was a true champ as I
knew she was - we were flying along. On each side of the channel the shear
rock walls rose up and disappeared into the swirling mist overhead, an
occasional star could be seen through the mist. All the crew was up on deck
taking in the grand spectacle. Soon we reached Valdez Bay and the wind
calmed down, it was now a peaceful sail. Across the bay the twinkling
lights of Valdez town could be seen - only 2 more hours till we reached a
proper bar. Behind the town the snow covered mountains seemed to glow in
the dark, overhead a vast canopy of twinkling stars shown in the clear night
air. The captain ordered up another round of hot toddies for the crew.
Now for the parable: The WTC, the anthrax attacks and the war has provided
the stress and choppy seas. We are the crew. The AGL is our small boat. We
must press on and do our duty. We must take care of our crewmates. If we
do not our small craft will founder and we will all be lost.
Bill "Ewie" Irwin
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<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN">
<HTML><HEAD>
<META http-equiv=3DContent-Type content=3D"text/html; =
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</HEAD>
<BODY bgColor=3D#ffffff>
<DIV><SPAN class=3D980494500-02112001><FONT face=3D"MS Sans Serif" =
color=3D#0000ff=20
size=3D2>Aye, curse you Matey for all tyour sea farin' stories. I =
think you=20
jus' made this stuff up from reading The Really Big Storm, Kohn =
Tikki and=20
Moby Whatever. Everybody knows you can't tack across Valdez strait =
because=20
of the oil tankers. Jeez, get these details straight will =
ya. Other=20
than that, you almos had me.</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=3D980494500-02112001><FONT face=3D"MS Sans Serif" =
color=3D#0000ff=20
size=3D2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=3D980494500-02112001><FONT face=3D"MS Sans Serif" =
color=3D#0000ff=20
size=3D2>If there is any thing I hate, its reading about other people's =
sailing=20
experiences. Especially, those with...parabolic...or =
metaphoric or=20
metabolic...intentions. Especially if it sounds like some =
day=20
fantasy I, myself, might have. Yup, especially those kinda =
stories. =20
So, </FONT></SPAN><SPAN class=3D980494500-02112001><FONT face=3D"MS =
Sans Serif"=20
color=3D#0000ff size=3D2> if you do this ten, maybe fifteen, more times, =
I'm really=20
going to get pissed and have TeleBob pay you a visit. =20
</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=3D980494500-02112001><FONT face=3D"MS Sans Serif" =
color=3D#0000ff=20
size=3D2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=3D980494500-02112001><FONT face=3D"MS Sans Serif" =
color=3D#0000ff=20
size=3D2>Aarghhh.</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=3D980494500-02112001><FONT face=3D"MS Sans Serif" =
color=3D#0000ff=20
size=3D2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=3D980494500-02112001><FONT face=3D"MS Sans Serif" =
color=3D#0000ff=20
size=3D2>Argh.</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=3D980494500-02112001><FONT face=3D"MS Sans Serif" =
color=3D#0000ff=20
size=3D2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=3D980494500-02112001><FONT face=3D"MS Sans Serif" =
color=3D#0000ff=20
size=3D2>W.</FONT></SPAN></DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=3D980494500-02112001><FONT face=3D"MS Sans Serif" =
color=3D#0000ff=20
size=3D2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<DIV><SPAN class=3D980494500-02112001><FONT face=3D"MS Sans Serif" =
color=3D#0000ff=20
size=3D2></FONT></SPAN> </DIV>
<BLOCKQUOTE dir=3Dltr style=3D"MARGIN-RIGHT: 0px">
<DIV class=3DOutlookMessageHeader dir=3Dltr align=3Dleft><FONT =
face=3DTahoma=20
size=3D2>-----Original Message-----<BR><B>From:</B>=20
austin-ghetto-list-admin@pairlist.net=20
[mailto:austin-ghetto-list-admin@pairlist.net]<B>On Behalf Of </B>Bill =
Irwin<BR><B>Sent:</B> Thursday, November 01, 2001 7:27 =
PM<BR><B>To:</B>=20
austin-ghetto-list@pairlist.net<BR><B>Subject:</B> Trying times try =
mens souls=20
- a parable<BR><BR></FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT size=3D2>Years ago beginning about '76 and extending up to =
'80 I had=20
a large sail boat, a 42' ketch rigged trimaran. Being a big boat =
it was=20
always best to have crew aboard to help out on a long voyage. =
Generally=20
I would get friends and accuantences to go along and sometimes I would =
just=20
pick up strangers off the dock for crew. While it was a big boat =
it=20
seems that after a week or so at sea the boat got smaller and more=20
cramped as you were forced to share the space with your crew=20
members. Begining in a small space for weeks on end, isolated on =
the big=20
ocean, sharing duties around the clock, and no way to get away for =
relaxation=20
or even to have a moment alone you could really get to know you =
shipmates,=20
better than you maybe wanted to. You got to know all about their =
character flaws and their strengths. Throw in a big storm, or week of =
really=20
foul and shity weather, or even 4 or 5 days of being becalmed with no =
wind (no=20
wind can be very frustrating as the boat just sits there, the empty =
sails=20
noisily flogging back and forth with each roll of the ship - hard on =
the=20
nerves and hard on the rigging) you have the stress that begins to try =
men's=20
nerves and eventually their souls.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT size=3D2></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT size=3D2>Once we had a really big storm. The waves =
seemed to be=20
50 or 60 feet as they towered over the mast top, looking straight up =
at these=20
buggers from the wave trough can be a little frightening as they keep =
marching=20
on. And every 5 or 10 minutes one would break across the boat =
and a wall=20
of water would sweep down the decks and if you were on watch there was =
no=20
escape from being drenched. I don't know how many of you have =
spent a=20
really dark night with the wind howling in the rigging, no visibility, =
a=20
torrential rain beating down and every few minutes having a bathtub =
full of=20
cold sea water being thrown at you, you duck down and hold on to the =
wheel=20
with all your strength. Eventually you become drenched to the =
bone, the=20
water slowly creeping into the cabin on blown spray and the wet fowl =
weather=20
gear of the crew, your bunk even becoming water logged. Finally =
I began=20
sleeping in my rain slickers as protection from the wet =
mattress. These=20
conditions can try your soul and you find out what your crew mates are =
made=20
of. On an other occasion we had about a week of foul weather and =
we had=20
to beat directly into it under reefed sails. A big, choppy sea =
was=20
running (the worst kind) the going was really slow, only about a 100 =
miles or=20
less a day and the wind was cold. It seemed that every wave =
would slap=20
into the boat with a tremendous sound and sometimes the boat would =
fall off a=20
wave top into the trough with a big crashing sound and then the boat =
would=20
shudder as it tried to regain its footing. This went on for days =
with no=20
end in sight, slowly eating away at your nerves. Another =
opportunity to=20
look into the eyes of your crewmates and see what's =
there.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT size=3D2>I have seen every reaction to these stressful =
conditions.=20
Some become moody and withdrawn, some become abusive and sour. I have =
seen big=20
guys turn to jello, I have seen small guys turn into superman. =
Once a=20
guy puked when a piece a gear broke loose at a bad time on a bad day. =
The=20
genial dockside conversationalist becomes the annoying motor =
mouth. The=20
joker becomes sad and morose. The lazy find new energy. =
The quiet=20
become the source of comforting words. The know-it-all, well, =
there is=20
no hope for them. Most do their duty and keep their sea sickness =
and=20
fear to themselves.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT size=3D2>Of course sailing is not all toil and trouble and =
conflict=20
with the crew. Sometimes there are moments of great joy and=20
wonderment. I will always remember my last night on the =
boat. I=20
had sold the boat and was delivering the boat to the new owner in =
Valdez,=20
Alaska. We spent about 3 or 4 days crossing the Gulf of Alaska =
and by=20
mid day on the 4th day at sea we made the entrance to Prince William=20
Sound. The sail up the Sound was delightful, off to the left was =
a huge=20
glacier (the name escapes me) stretching as far as the eye could see, =
bits of=20
ice bergs were floating about and the Sound was teaming with wildlife =
both in=20
the air and in the sea. Soon nightfall came upon us, a very dark =
night,=20
we had reached the entrance to Valdez Strait - a long narrow canyon =
leading to=20
Valdez Bay. Because of the geography of the area the wind is =
channeled=20
and accelerated into Valdez Strait, the wind was really blowing down =
the=20
Strait but the sea was flat - ideal conditions for a fast passage. God =
that=20
wind was cold, blowing off the nearby glaciers. We all had every piece =
of=20
clothing we had on and foul weather gear on top of that, we had =
to drink=20
hot rum and lemon toddies just to keep warm. Because the wind =
was coming=20
down the Strait we had to tack back and forth across the channel with =
only the=20
distant blinking beacon on the mid-channel rock pile to guide =
us. The=20
wind was howling and we had full sail up - the boat was charging ahead =
under=20
full power showing us that she was a true champ as I knew she was - we =
were=20
flying along. On each side of the channel the shear rock walls =
rose up=20
and disappeared into the swirling mist overhead, an occasional star =
could be=20
seen through the mist. All the crew was up on deck taking in the =
grand=20
spectacle. Soon we reached Valdez Bay and the wind calmed down, =
it was=20
now a peaceful sail. Across the bay the twinkling lights of =
Valdez town=20
could be seen - only 2 more hours till we reached a proper bar. =
Behind=20
the town the snow covered mountains seemed to glow in the dark, =
overhead a=20
vast canopy of twinkling stars shown in the clear night air. The =
captain=20
ordered up another round of hot toddies for the crew.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT size=3D2>Now for the parable: The WTC, the anthrax attacks =
and the=20
war has provided the stress and choppy seas. We are the crew. =
The AGL is=20
our small boat. We must press on and do our duty. We must =
take=20
care of our crewmates. If we do not our small craft will founder =
and we=20
will all be lost.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT size=3D2>Bill "Ewie" =
Irwin</FONT></DIV></BLOCKQUOTE></BODY></HTML>
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