Stephanie Dye - 8/03/09
~// A Letter Home: Tales of Outward Bound \\~This letter was sent to my parents during my 28-day Downeast trip in Maine.7/2/09
Dear Mom & Dad,
This morning's dip left us feeling refreshingly warm, considering the air is warmer than the 50 degree water. We are at Cross Island, the tip of our Downeast journey, and will embark on our 4-day solos tomorrow.
So much has happened in the past twelve days. The crew's motto is basically, "Oh, no, we didn't sign up for a sailing course - this is a rowing course!" We've only had one full day of sailing and that was in gale force winds, while we've had several full days of rowing. Our top speed has been 4.5 knots (which means it took a piece of banana peel to travel from our bow to stern in the water just four seconds) but we usually meander along at about 2 knots. On the first day, before we could set off sailing, we had to do a capsize drill, during which we flipped the boat, unflipped the boat, bailed it out, and swam back to land, meaning we had to spend about 10 minutes in the hypothermic water. Since the capsizing, we've also broken our mizzen sprit (which was replaced the next day since we can't sail without it) and lost an oar overboard. We've also received free crab claws from lobstermen and candy from a guy we now refer to as Philippe the Pirate. The weather has generally been cold, foggy, and drizzly, usually in the 60's range. We've had four days with sunlight and one half-hour during which we happily stripped down to t-shirts and shorts because of the warmth. We've stepped foot on land just four times - twice because we were on a dock, once to go exploring because we were ahead of schedule, and here on Cross Island. Tonight is the first night we will sleep on land since setting off.
There are 11 kids (7 girls, 4 boys) and two instructors, Dave and Susan. We generally feel that our 30-foot pulling boat is larger than it looks. The only time we are cramped for space is when we have to fit 11 people, head to toe, between the two masts to sleep - everyone has to lie on their side in order to make barely enough room. To make our sleeping area, we tie up the sprits between the two masts, put a tarp up like a tent over the boat, roll out the oars over the storage wells and rower's benches, and lay out sleeping pads perpendicular to the oars, which we sleep on top of. It actually gets pretty warm inside, especially when dinner is being cooked. The galley doubles as the cockpit and has a propane stove with two burners. We eat very well as we carry real fruits and vegetables with us, pastas and rice, bagels, pita bread, loaves of bread, cheese, spices, and canned goods. Meals we've eaten have been macaroni and cheese, pasta and red sauce, corn chowder, bean burritos, pancakes, bagels and cream cheese, granola with yogurt, stir fry, and other things. We each get a piece of fruit a day and snack on so much gorp, saltines, dried fruit, pretzels, and graham crackers. Seriously, we eat really well - absolutely no camping foods. The only thing I'm picky about is celery, but the food is delicious. I've even eaten three jelly sandwiches with peanut butter - one because I was curious and two because I was bored of just jelly sandwiches.
Our watch name is the Foggies because we've been in so much fog. Once, the water was so still and the fog so thick that lobster pts looked like they were floating in the air. We travel around 15 nautical miles everyday, I think. I'm one of the few in the crew who enjoys taking the tiller and steering the ship - everyone else thinks it's too stressful or thinks it's boring. Sometimes it is indeed boring when I have to keep a heading (keep the ship pointed towards a certain degree on the compass), but I got to do a sound navigation towards a bell in a thick fog because the navigators were rather confused. I just listened for the sound of the bell and guided the ship towards it - so much fun! However, much of my time (and everyone else's) is spent rowing. We row and row and row, sometimes all day. It gets pretty boring. I have rowed 1,097 strokes - any longer times I haven't counted. Did I mention that we row a lot?
As for my health, I'm fairly well. I have a slight sore throat - the sickness has been passed around and around the boat. I have 31 mosquito bites from the past three days but they don't itch now. I have seven bruises, one the size of an apple, and I have no idea how I got them. My elbow is sore but I haven't had any other aches or pains. I did get whacked very hard on the head by a sprit, though. All in all, I'm quite the healthy child.
Every morning, we wake up at 5:30, change into our cold, wet swimsuits, jump off the boat into the water and quickly climb back in - it's just a dip. Sometimes we have "shower days", where we still have to jump into the ocean, except with some biodegradable soap in hand. The water is regularly in the 50's. Once the tarp is down, we either cook breakfast or eat underway, rowing or sailing until about 6 or 7. Then we put up the tarp, eat dinner, have evening meeting, and get to bed around eleven. Then we each have a shift on anchor watch. You know how excited I was about seeing the stars on anchor watch? I've never seen them, it's always foggy. We've only ever seen the moon once and that was in the afternoon.
Mom, thanks for making me bring the really thick wool sweater. And Dad, thanks for the gear and clothes - one of the biggest joys in my life right now is when I get to put on a clean item of clothing. See you all soon! I miss my dog.
Love,
Stephanie
