Article
5-15-02
Preface: We can look
forward to the Spirit of South Carolina tall ship providing life
lessons for her young crew members as is eloquently portrayed
in the following essay by Ben Hall. Ben is an active supporter
of the Spirit of South Carolina tall ship project and is well
on his way to becoming a modern day waterman. And, who knows,
maybe Captain of the Spirit of South Carolina some day. –Charlie
Sneed, Executive Dir., South Carolina Maritime Heritage Foundation.
You may contact the South Carolina Maritime Heritage Foundation
at the web site: www.scmaritime.org or call 843-722-1030.
Tall Ship Lessons for a Lifetime
by Benjamin C. Hall
Over 100 sailing school vessels (SSVs) are in service in the United
States. They are as large as the worldwide roaming USCGC Barque Eagle
and as small as schooners and sloops serving on rivers and harbors.
Their missions range from military training to historical preservation.
They all, however, connect us to the sea, while keeping alive our
maritime heritage.
On a port tack in light air the brigantine sauntered over a small
ground swell from the port bow. In this predawn, the watch minded
the helm and sails, enjoying the peaceful balance of wind and rig.
Meanwhile some 90' above on the foremast, a figure was making his
way up the topmast shrouds. From the deck of SSV Corwith Cramer no
one could read his hesitancy as his hands and feet pumped up the
ever diminishing ratlines.
Since she was built in 1987, Cramer has provided a place for educators,
high schoolers, and college students to learn about themselves and
the maritime world. One of the three tall ships operated by Sea Education
Association (SEA) in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, Cramer is outfitted
to conduct oceanographic research. The college semester offered consists
of spending the first half onshore for classroom study, and the second
half underway. Research projects are developed and carried out by
students, and course work includes nautical science and maritime
studies.
Atop the mast, the world, the universe, awaited. Where the ratlines
had shortened, and disappeared, and the shrouds gripped the foretopmast,
12 more vertical feet separated the climber from the apex. No longer
was the path obvious. Only various hardware for the stays and halyards
provided a way to the top.
I was fortunate enough to be one of those students in the summer
of 1999. The academic portion was challenging and provided a mission
for our 2,000 nautical mile cruise track. It impressed upon us the
significance of the fishing grounds of George's Bank we traversed
off the coast of Massachusetts. The Oceanography portion taught us
to marvel at the ocean for what was visible and tangible, as well
as the less obvious that we gathered and studied. We learned from
the crew the art of navigation, sail trim, and the management of
our shipboard resources of food, water, and fuel. These studies are
what we were given credit for by our colleges, and were of great
value. But the lessons learned of the greatest value would not show
up on our transcripts.
The student left the security and certainty behind and slowly made
his way upward, with a trembling death grip, towards his own private
Mount Everest. The trip had been made by others hundreds of times,
but he felt like he was the first.
In our floating world on the Gulf of Maine we learned to work together.
Our decisions directly affected our shipmates in this tight community
of 34 people. Rising promptly for watch meant that the shipmates
relieved could enjoy enough sleep after a long watch in the wet night.
Conserving water meant there would be enough for all until the next
port of call. A good job of galley duty ensured that everyone would
eat well, and on time.
Slowed only by the fear of a teak deck 100' beneath him, he
reached the cylindrical truck atop the foremast soon, clipped
his harness in, and breathed again. In white lettering, upon
the glossy black truck, read the phrase, "Do something that
scares you everyday."
The opportunity was ever present. The chance to try something new,
with guidance that held the gravity of importance. From steering
the ship into the foggy Bay of Fundy on an ebb tide, to giving research
presentations in front of classmates and uncompromising professors,
Cramer was a place of daunting challenges. The meek found strength
and boldness never imagined; the bold found humility much needed.
I found both, and a passion for a life on the sea, underway and under
sail.
My love affair could be realized best by a sailing school vessel.
After graduating from the College of Charleston, I was hired onboard
SSV Spirit of Massachusetts as a deckhand. After four months and
4,000 nm with 20 high school students, I still was not satiated.
Then I was off to California to sail the SSV Tole Mour amongst the
Channel Islands, running weeklong programs for 5-12th graders. All
these fine sailing crafts differed greatly in mission and construction,
but the manner in which they affected people impressed me greatly.
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