The Blustery Day

Monday, 16 April, 2007

Gusting over 60 here in the Inner Harbor of Baltimore, the crew of Pride II merely looked each other with mutual sympathy and shouldered into a day of working aloft. Both the fore and main masts were oiled down, crewmembers slowly lowered down from the topmost, the wind blowing all words away. I rode my bike over to the Pride of Baltimore I memorial and huddled behind the granite to do some menu planning while waiting for Charlie and Sarah. We slowly hoisted Sarah to the very top of that sad mast set in granite, wind blowing tears from our eyes and Sarah just setting her chin against the bitterness of it all.
Leaving there, I cycled to the grocery store and bought way too much food, loading my hiking backpack with well over 50 lbs. of potatoes, carrots, apples, oranges, banana, onions, milk and cheese. Bags hung from both handlebars and weighing as much as a european car, I tried to push off on the bike. I was not born for the circus. While still in the parking lot I turned ever so slightly in front of a car and the bike squirted out from under me like a watermelon seed. There I was with groceries all around me and the car sitting there and my bike all tangled in my legs. My pants had lost the knee and my knee had lost some blood. A kind man in a 'Secular Humanist' and 'Challenge Belief' bumper sticker bedecked car offered to take my groceries. Deposited at the waterfront, I called Ryan who brought the small boat (that we affectionately call 'Fat Rita') over to rescue me. Whitecaps across the harbor and remember the winds, no wonder Ryan seemed rather sullen and quiet. I was in a foul mood myself and we shivered and loaded Fat Rita up. Back to the boat. Lunch made. A breath taken and a settled mind. I then heard what had happened while I was away, which answered why Ryan was sulking, Mike was talking slurred and the Captain was wearing someone else's clothes. Mike our 2nd mate stabbed himself in the face while hanging out on the bowsprit. He didn't want to go to the Emergency Room because they would make him shave his mustache off to deal with it, instead, the boys super-glued it together. This was shortly after the catastrophe of the swimming captain. Remember the wind blowing like stink. The crew were doubling and snugging up the docklines and Captain Bradley was standing on one of the lines to stretch it out. For brevity of the story, all of a sudden there was no captain. The line that
Ryan had just made off had jumped off the cavel cleat and dropped from beneath Captain Bradley, dumping him in the cold waters of the Inner Harbor. I wasn't there to watch the hubbub but I saw the shame on the Ryan's face. Actually, not until I made bratwurst the next day did his countenance start to lift. Captain Bradley swam around to the front of the pier and hoisted himself out. He has been nothing but gracious to us all. I can only imagine what would have happened if we dropped Captain Miles overboard. We would have seen the shilleleigh for sure. I'm not sure how to wrap this all up. Perhaps just to say that the wind blew less today and the crew will sleep well tonight. Hopefully that is all behind us and we will have less of the swimming captain action and more of the smooth sailing action Pride is so known for. As for me, I have a few days before I need to go on my next provisioning adventure that will no doubt still involve a bike, a boat and a story to tell. Be well everyone.