The Captain's Logs are below.

Read the Crew's Views from John, KC, and Caroline as they reflect on their experiences in Asia.

Back to 1999 Captain Logs Index

To bring us back to where we left off we have to go back to last week at Annapolis. Capt. Miles had been aboard for about two weeks, mostly sailing Pride II in the Eastern Bay. He and I executed a change of command in Annapolis. Our allotted time for making the trip to Wilmington had been nibbled away by various commitments such that when we sailed out from Annapolis, we were already under some time constraint. A northwest breeze (that was more north than west) resulted in a motorboat ride from the Bay Bridge to the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal. The reason for sending Pride II to Delaware was to attend Wilmington's first ever Tallships gathering. Approximately 15 schooners, topsail schooners, full rig ships, and other craft of size were scheduled to rendezvous for the Memorial Day weekend. We were to be there to represent Maryland.

We transited the Canal under power, as required by regulation, but upon being spat out into the Delaware River on Friday morning, May 28^th, 10 to 15 knots of breeze began to fill in from the west. The Delaware River runs more or less north-south in that stretch, so a westerly breeze provides the most perfect conditions for sailing both up and down the river. In short order, the mainsail was set, quickly followed by the fores'l, the stays'l, the jib, and the foretopsail. The engines were happily belayed. We passed under the Delaware Memorial Bridge at twelve noon, just as the other vessels were emptying out of the Port of Wilmington to commence the Parade of Sail down to Newcastle. As the other skippers got out into the river and saw the idyllic conditions, one by one sails began to blossom here and there till before long the whole flotilla was clipping along under sail. Pride II was coming up the opposite way, from the south, passing to leeward of the lead vessels. As we got abeam of the procession, we came about onto a starboard tack and joined in at our assigned position, number 8, just astern of the Jolly Rover.

Everything seemed fine and well. We had joined the procession in a timely manner, and laid to rest the simmering apoplexy of anyone who thought we might be late. Now, it is important to understand that a Parade of Sail is not a race; rather it is a stately procession in which traditional sailing ships of different sizes, designs, periods, and rigs march along in lockstep at exactly four knots, 75 yards apart, under full sail. The amount of wind and its direction are regarded as immaterial. But here was the Pride Of Baltimore II, sailing on a southerly heading, with 15 knots on the beam. What's a poor girl to do? I'll tell you what she did, she took off like a dress on prom night. She quickly gathered way on her new tack and began to accelerate. It seems that Pride II didn't much care for being number eight. She didn't much care for numbers seven, six, or five, either. We tried all the tricks we knew for stalling and restraining a Baltimore Clipper on a beam reach, but that schooner had but one thing on her mind and that was to get to the front of the line. After motoring our little hearts out from Annapolis, I was of more than half a mind to agree with her. So on we sailed down the Delaware River toward the turning point at Newcastle. By the time Pride II rounded up past the reviewing stand, there were only two vessels ahead of her, the Regina Chatterina from Holland, and the Kalmar Nyckel, a local lass of good repute and in every respect the belle of the ball, deservedly so. We gave the crowd at Newcastle a broadside and headed back upriver toward Wilmington.

Pride II quickly overtook the Regina Chatterina, which, despite a few rust streaks, possessed the strong, handsome profile of a North Sea fishing schooner: plumb bow, plenty of sheer, and a soft, round transom. Catching the Kalmar Nyckel, however, was another matter. For one, she had the lead of us by better than a mile, and there were only a few miles left to go. For another, though she replicates an armed merchant vessel of the 17^th century, she can pile on the canvas and sail exceedingly well on a beam reach. Lastly, a flicker of conscience illuminated the thought in my mind that it would be inappropriate for any vessel other than the hometown sailing ship to lead this glorious parade back to Wilmington. The image of her sweaty crew, heaving and ho'ing with calloused hands while singing that famous sea shanty "Its My Party And I'll Cry If I Want To," was too sobering to long entertain. So I resolved to enjoy things as they were and forebear any attempt to catch the Kalmar Nyckel.

Abruptly our VHF radio crackled and spoke. It was the captain of the Kalmar Nyckel calling to another vessel to say words to the effect that they had sailed into a particularly fresh patch of wind and that they were doing what is technically known as "hauling butt." He concluded his remarks by saying "Even the Pride of Baltimore can't catch us!" The crew of Pride II, who were standing around the quarter deck within earshot of the radio, heard the remark and looked at me as if to say, "Well?" That little flicker of conscience sputtered and extinguished: "Set the jib topsail. Ease the sheets."

Wind, as we all know, is a fickle thing. Never is this more in evidence as when sailing upon a river. Indeed, looking ahead, the Kalmar Nyckel was heeling to leeward and ploughing up a storm. Pride II was sailing pleasantly enough, but it was merely pleasant, nothing more. As we approached the bridge, however, the wind freshened sharply, just as it had for the Kalmar Nyckel. Pride II gave a little nod to leeward and lapped up the breeze as the Kalmar Nyckel, now above the bridge, rediscovered the simple fact that the same fair wind that sends a vessel jauntily on its way is under no obligation to follow. So it was that the Kalmar Nyckel sailed beyond the periphery of the freshest patch of the wind just as Pride II was finding it and carrying it. Also, as the wind shifted more ahead, Pride II's superior windward capabilities allowed her to track along in the deepest part of the river, while the Kalmar Nyckel gradually closed with the bank.

Before long we were even with her and to windward. The gunner, Gene Williams, let fly with a particularly well-packed cannon shot as we passed her by. Meanwhile, the Delbay, a power vessel that was chartered to carry the media people, was endeavoring to get ahead of Pride II for some photos of her bow. Briefly she was ahead of us when the captain realized he was in danger of being run down. Pride II was making over nine knots and the Delbay's engines were roaring away a few feet off our beam but she was unable to keep pace and fell behind. The skipper called on the radio to say "I'll be damned if I've ever been beat by a sailboat before!" We carried on up the river awhile in the general direction of Philadelphia before turning back and heading for our berth in the Port of Wilmington with the other vessels. Though Pride II had a particularly good romp that day, the wind conditions were such that all the vessels looked grand to a sailor's eye, because it was a Parade of Sail that actually sailed.

The Memorial Day weekend at Wilmington was a huge success for the planners and the participants alike of Tall Ships Delaware. The weather was perfect and the turn-out was impressive. Six thousand people crossed the decks of Pride Of Baltimore II in the course of the weekend. The crew got to visit the other ships and socialize with their crews. The Kalmar Nyckel threw a great party to welcome all the ships, captains, and crews. We sailed away Monday morning hoping that they will do it all again soon.

For our voyage back down the Bay, we experienced uncooperative winds once more. Not that the weather was bad, it just wasn't good for sailing to Norfolk in the time allotted. This was particularly disappointing because aboard were two former Pride II crew, Michael Furbish and Johnny Seacrest. We especially wanted to give them a good experience. We squeezed in a few hours of sailing here and there when opportunity allowed, but we had places to go, places to be. Our guest crew were good sports about it, and when I stop to think of it, what is there to complain about? The weather is nice, the sunsets are grand, the sea is calm, and we are out on the water.

There is a special thrill that sailors feel about having made their destination under sail alone. One feels the right to be there more deeply because it has been both earned from, and granted by, Mother Nature. It requires skill, commitment, and endurance, even on the smallest scale. We feel more righteous when we have come by sail than if we have motored the whole distance to a place just out of sight, around a bend in the coastline, from which we emerge wearing a costume of sails. We know that that is not sailing. But we also know that, in life, we cannot have all things as we would like. Nevertheless, in this past week, among other things, we have gained the memory of that sweet afternoon sailing Pride II in fine style off of Newcastle and Wilmington at Delaware's first ever Tall Ships event. Looking around now at this beautiful ship, here in the late afternoon sun, and seeing this dedicated crew who are busily immersed in the detail of shipboard life, it is easier to appreciate that life can be great without being perfect.

Watch Below,
Captain Daniel S. Parrott