Pensacola, a Follow-up
As it turns out, I seem to have some more stuff about our trip to share with you:
During our first day with Bob, he had asked us where we were from. Upon telling him, he responded by saying that we didn’t sound like we were from Minnesota. Granted our accents are not pronounced by any degree, but me and my compatriots seem to have the unconscious trait of adopting the local accent very quickly. Indeed we had only been in Pensacola for the better part of a day and had already started to mirror the speech patterns of the locals enough to disguise our Midwest background. Squid had joked about consciously pouring on our native accent to see how Bob my react.
Speaking of accents, since Pensacola was a stone’s throw from the Alabama border, we all found it interesting to note which people exhibited Floridian or Alabaman flavors of speech. It was actually close to a 50-50 split in my books.
To add some color to our exciting second day… I was at the helm for the first stretch of our trek home after we hoisted the jib. Now, there is an effect called "weather helm" which basically means that as the wind hits the sails, the force of it acts as a steering mechanism pushing the boat to face the wind. While you would normally counteract this with the rudder, Bob had instructed us to let the heavier wind gusts push us up and then steer us back down to our normal course. The benefit is that:
1. You are not fighting the weather helm of the gusts
2. You get some extra speed from utilizing the extra wind effectively
3. It mixes equal parts of terror and exhilaration as the boat heels way over and starts riding up towards the wind
The maneuver was called "feathering" and it was a welcome addition to my arsenal of sailing skills.
Another moment on our windy day was as were striking the sails some porpoises came along side to check us out. I guess they were intrigued to see humans out during such a heavy patch and came to investigate. Unfortunately, I did not get a picture of it because I was busy covering the mail sail. It was still pretty cool.
There are a bunch different markers to help you navigate waterways. While I understood the concept, I was having trouble with its application. One the first day I was steering us toward a shoal because I was approaching one marker from the wrong side. I also had trouble keeping them straight in my head for the written tests (which led to second-guessing and inevitable errors). I found it really frustrating that I could not come to grips with it all. And then, some time Tuesday evening, I had an abrupt moment of clarity. It was odd how the fog had lifted in an almost instantaneous fashion, but it did. It was still a shame that I floundered for as long as I had.
One of the endearing traits about the Native Café is that they have a bunch of art from local artists hanging on the walls. Photos, paintings, watercolors, etc… By far our favorite was a painting of a pelican, mostly because of its expression. Oddly enough, the title of the piece is called "The Grumpy Pelican." I was also eyeing a sketch of a flower. It was a particularly good effort and since it was done in black and white, the contrast was excellent. Lemur had a soft spot for some of the bowls and plates they used. It had a deco styling to it that hit a chord enough for her to file away the manufacturer for later reference.
To give more insight to our second instructor, Fred, I recall the class portion where he was talking about marine toilets. Proper use includes using a one-ply marine tissue paper. However, Fred had told us that it was okay to use a cheap one-ply you might find in the store. This was not an opinion, however, as he then told us about his experiment where he took a sheet of both and observed how each dissolved and broke down in water. I found it pretty cool that he went through the trouble of getting empirical evidence to support his hypothesis. Considering the cost saving between generic one-ply versus marine tissue, it was a worthwhile endeavor.
During some of our voyages, I would notice a sort of halo of light in the distance. The times I had seen it, I figured my mind was playing tricks and tried to ignore it. I think it was Wednesday or Thursday, when Squid asked Fred what that light was. Apparently, the sand is such in the area to reflect the light up and cast an aura. So not only was I not imagining it, it was actually a pretty nifty effect.
When taking sightings with a compass to fix your position, water towers make good landmarks because they are usually listed on a nautical chart. However, a water tower may not be a good landmark if there happen to be three in close proximity to each other. I learned that one the hard way.
When we put in at Bayou Chico, I had help with one of the dockhands to secure the Marian. After I had secured a line to the bow, the guy took the remaining line and in a few deft motions, secured the boat to cleat on the dock. What made it interesting was his movements were more like he was jumping rope than tying a boat down. There’s a man who has secured a lot of boats in his day.
During our first day with Bob, he had asked us where we were from. Upon telling him, he responded by saying that we didn’t sound like we were from Minnesota. Granted our accents are not pronounced by any degree, but me and my compatriots seem to have the unconscious trait of adopting the local accent very quickly. Indeed we had only been in Pensacola for the better part of a day and had already started to mirror the speech patterns of the locals enough to disguise our Midwest background. Squid had joked about consciously pouring on our native accent to see how Bob my react.
Speaking of accents, since Pensacola was a stone’s throw from the Alabama border, we all found it interesting to note which people exhibited Floridian or Alabaman flavors of speech. It was actually close to a 50-50 split in my books.
To add some color to our exciting second day… I was at the helm for the first stretch of our trek home after we hoisted the jib. Now, there is an effect called "weather helm" which basically means that as the wind hits the sails, the force of it acts as a steering mechanism pushing the boat to face the wind. While you would normally counteract this with the rudder, Bob had instructed us to let the heavier wind gusts push us up and then steer us back down to our normal course. The benefit is that:
1. You are not fighting the weather helm of the gusts
2. You get some extra speed from utilizing the extra wind effectively
3. It mixes equal parts of terror and exhilaration as the boat heels way over and starts riding up towards the wind
The maneuver was called "feathering" and it was a welcome addition to my arsenal of sailing skills.
Another moment on our windy day was as were striking the sails some porpoises came along side to check us out. I guess they were intrigued to see humans out during such a heavy patch and came to investigate. Unfortunately, I did not get a picture of it because I was busy covering the mail sail. It was still pretty cool.
There are a bunch different markers to help you navigate waterways. While I understood the concept, I was having trouble with its application. One the first day I was steering us toward a shoal because I was approaching one marker from the wrong side. I also had trouble keeping them straight in my head for the written tests (which led to second-guessing and inevitable errors). I found it really frustrating that I could not come to grips with it all. And then, some time Tuesday evening, I had an abrupt moment of clarity. It was odd how the fog had lifted in an almost instantaneous fashion, but it did. It was still a shame that I floundered for as long as I had.
One of the endearing traits about the Native Café is that they have a bunch of art from local artists hanging on the walls. Photos, paintings, watercolors, etc… By far our favorite was a painting of a pelican, mostly because of its expression. Oddly enough, the title of the piece is called "The Grumpy Pelican." I was also eyeing a sketch of a flower. It was a particularly good effort and since it was done in black and white, the contrast was excellent. Lemur had a soft spot for some of the bowls and plates they used. It had a deco styling to it that hit a chord enough for her to file away the manufacturer for later reference.
To give more insight to our second instructor, Fred, I recall the class portion where he was talking about marine toilets. Proper use includes using a one-ply marine tissue paper. However, Fred had told us that it was okay to use a cheap one-ply you might find in the store. This was not an opinion, however, as he then told us about his experiment where he took a sheet of both and observed how each dissolved and broke down in water. I found it pretty cool that he went through the trouble of getting empirical evidence to support his hypothesis. Considering the cost saving between generic one-ply versus marine tissue, it was a worthwhile endeavor.
During some of our voyages, I would notice a sort of halo of light in the distance. The times I had seen it, I figured my mind was playing tricks and tried to ignore it. I think it was Wednesday or Thursday, when Squid asked Fred what that light was. Apparently, the sand is such in the area to reflect the light up and cast an aura. So not only was I not imagining it, it was actually a pretty nifty effect.
When taking sightings with a compass to fix your position, water towers make good landmarks because they are usually listed on a nautical chart. However, a water tower may not be a good landmark if there happen to be three in close proximity to each other. I learned that one the hard way.
When we put in at Bayou Chico, I had help with one of the dockhands to secure the Marian. After I had secured a line to the bow, the guy took the remaining line and in a few deft motions, secured the boat to cleat on the dock. What made it interesting was his movements were more like he was jumping rope than tying a boat down. There’s a man who has secured a lot of boats in his day.