The Captain's Logs are below.

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

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My partner, Captain Dan Parrott, has relieved me from command of Pride of Baltimore II and the ship is continuing its planned itinerary. She is sailing along the south shore of Lake Erie enroute to Toronto, Canada, on the north shore of Lake Ontario. I am now at home getting back into the different but familiar routine of life ashore, split between personal and professional responsibilities.

Milwaukee to Cleveland

My last log left off as Pride II departed Milwaukee enroute to Cleveland. This is a run of about 500 nautical miles retracing the route Pride II followed after the long and hard climb against current as we made our way as far into the Lakes as we can go without entering Lake Superior. The lake flies continued to bother, as the wind was light and the lake surface remained smooth enough for them to spawn. But the wind was enough to keep us sailing more than motoring as we crossed Lake Michigan toward the Michigan's western shore. Nearby are the huge 1,100 foot dunes known as Sleeping Bear. During our second day underway as we sailed toward the Straits of Mackinac, the crew were able to set and enjoy the most sail spread since entering the Lakes. Both the top-gallentsail (we call it the gantsail) and the studding-sail (properly pronounced stunsail) were set along with the normal complement of mainsail, foresail, staysail, jib, jibtop, foretop, and maintop.

After about eight hours, the stunsail had to come in as the wind changed and dropped out to less than 4 knots. In addition weather reports from Wisconsin were indicating an approaching low with promises of small craft warnings and maybe a gale warning expected eventually to effect most of the Lakes. My attention shifted to how far along we could get and where to hide Pride II at anchor for such a weather event. With the light night air, Pride II pushed on, passing under the Mackinac Bridge and on into Lake Huron as I cogitated the developing weather picture described by the various marine VHF weather stations scattered around. I finally decided we would anchor in North Bay at Presque Isle Light, near Rogers City on the northeast shore of the State of Michigan.

Figuring out a strategy for dealing with weather while maneuvering an auxiliary powered sail vessel like Pride II demands a great deal of attention to detail if one wishes to reduce, avoid, or limit the stress and strain of strong seas and rough wind conditions. In past logs, I have often mentioned my concerns about what the weather is likely to do. Maybe I sound like a broken record with my frequent references to weather. My experience over the years has proven to me that my attention to it can mean the difference between a lot of work for the ship and crew, or a more relaxed and less stressful experience. I have not always been correct with my analyses, but I think overall I have had more successes than mistakes.

Summer weather in the Great Lakes is not a lot different from summer weather on the east and northeast coasts of the United States. Thunderclouds with lightning and heavy downpours along with the threat of sudden strong wind puffs are similar but more numerous in the Lakes. Similarly, there are long periods of weather influenced by high pressure. This usually means clear skies and light winds over a broad area. The winds typically blow from on shore late in the day, changing to off shore at night. Also, lows pass through periodically, much like a passing train with their inexorable procession - first coming towards us, than moving away. However, lows move at a different rate in the Great Lakes. Being further to the north than Chesapeake Bay, lows transit from west to east somewhat more quickly than at the latitude of Chesapeake Bay. I have found this difference to be true everywhere I have sailed. The higher the latitude, the quicker the change in weather.

In the Great Lakes, when high-pressure weather persists, my concentration is focused on the possibility of thunderstorms. So far we have only experienced them a couple of times this year. We had two interesting experiences one evening while tied up in Milwaukee. The image above shows a picture of our barograph tracing for that evening. The first and most dramatic dip in the barometer was in the late afternoon. The bar dropped some 5+ millibars in less than half an hour, then bounced up again 3 millibars within the next half-hour. In the sky around us, there were scattered clouds but nothing heavy directly overhead. There was a fairly rapid and steady increase in wind (but not sudden such as in a squall) from less than 10 knots to 30 knots for about 20 minutes, then a reduction back to 10 knots. No rain accompanied this phenomenon. Later that night during the second dip, we saw a nearly equal rise of 3 millibars in a period of half an hour. This was accompanied by some nearby lightning strikes with the beginnings of rain. Within minutes, the wind came on strong and squall-like out of the north at about 35 knots and the rain became torrential. Moments later, the wind died and came back to the south lightly while the rain all but stopped.

During the hectic weather phenomena described above, the overall weather picture was described by the Weather Service as "a high-pressure system moving in from the northwest." The two sudden movements in the barometer within a more sedate trend downwards followed by a relatively flat trend indicates isolated activity within the trough between the last high-pressure and the coming high-pressure. The overall change indicated on the barograph could help the weather watcher anticipate what is coming. But the quick movements give no warning of what is to happen. They merely indicate the presence at our position of an isolated phenomenon in a state of development or dissipation. These events demonstrate the complexity of weather and the difficulty of predicting every nuance.

But back to the present in Lake Huron, I continued to follow the developing weather picture. Whenever a low approaches, there is often another high-pressure racing in right behind, bringing with it the possibility of thunderclouds, wind, and rain squalls. In our case as we motored and sailed our way to Cleveland, the question was where would the low center pass? If it were to pass to the south of our position, the wind would first develop out of the southeast then shift counter-clockwise (known as backing) because the coming low itself has counter-clockwise winds. Also, if the low were to pass to our south, there would be reduced likelihood of thunderclouds. On the other hand, if the low were to pass to our north, the winds would shift clockwise (or veer). In that case, the possibility of thunderclouds was nearly guaranteed.

Over time, the weather report continued to promise winds increasing in strength out of the southeast. The route toward Cleveland from the Straits of Mackinac is southeasterly. With most of Lake Huron ahead of us, the wind would have 200 miles of open water to build up sizable seas. I scrutinized the charts for a suitable anchorage with protection from the southeast. Pride II's draft of 12.5 feet makes many enclosed anchorages in the Lakes unavailable. I finally decided on North Bay because it protected from all directions except from northeast to northwest. That would not be a major problem as both of these directions represented favorable wind for getting along our way toward Cleveland anyway. As we pulled in to anchor about midday on our third day since leaving Milwaukee, weather forecasts were still projecting the low to pass to the south of us, which would mean winds would back to the northeast. So I anchored accordingly. Upon anchoring in the early afternoon and with no rain indicated till after dark, the crew wasted no time jumping to tightening the foremast rig lanyards.

Tuning the Rig

The art of "tuning the rig" is mysterious to many. The principle is simple. Tighten the rig so it is tight enough to support the mast when it is subjected to the forces of wind in the sails and the hull being shoved around by the sea. The process is not so simple - especially with a traditional rig equipped with a system of deadeyes and lanyards. The fundamental problem to overcome is the inherent friction of the lanyards as they pass through the deadeyes. Deadeyes are like blocks in the running rigging of lines and pulleys that control sails and spars. Except deadeyes don't have any moving parts like the parts of a pulley (or block as it is called aboard Pride II). Thus the lanyards rub against stationary wood as they pass through the holes drilled out of the deadeyes. To overcome this friction, lubrication is applied to the portion of the lanyards that is going to pass into the deadeye. Then the tail end of the lanyard is attached to gear that will stretch the lanyard tight. Aboard Pride II, we use mechanical devices made of metal with wire drums and hooks attached to wire that in turn can be attached to the lanyard ends. The mechanical device is called a come-along. The ones we use can pull up to 2 tons of strain. As the crew cranks on the levers of the come-alongs, the lanyards get tighter and tighter as the lubrication helps the lanyards render through deadeyes. At a point of strain judged by the effort it takes to crank on the come-along, tightening is stopped. Then devices we call render bars are used to work the unequal strain in the different lanyard parts through the deadeyes till the six parts of the lanyard are equal in strain, as estimated by touch. This process is repeated till the overall tension is deemed enough. Then the crew must seize (tie) the lanyard parts together in a couple of places to permit detaching the come-alongs. The lanyards must them be tied off with a cow-hitch around the top of the top deadeye. By the end of the day, the six foremast lanyards had been tightened and seized off.

Awaiting the Low

Overnight at anchor, the wind did not breeze up appreciably from the southeast. In fact it stayed moderate but shifted to the south. There were two groups of thunderclouds that passed by just before dawn. The second one surrounded us with lightening strikes. One strike on land nearby knocked out the electronic feed of GPS information to the radar but otherwise did no damage. Since having GPS information routed to the radar is only a convenience, this event did not pose a safety problem.

The morning reports were harder for me to understand and thus predict what would happen next. After a while, it came clear that the low had passed nearly over the top of us and had not developed appreciably as it had approached. Hence there had been no appreciable increase of wind strength as the low neared. But the reports did re-emphasize the coming strength of the winds in the leading edge of the cold front due later in the day. So with dry decks, the crew again jumped to tuning the rig - this time tightening the six shrouds of the mainmast. By 1 PM they were done. I estimated the cold front winds were near and we needed to haul back the hook to maneuver into position to catch the favorable northwest breezes that would come with the cold front.

Lake Huron

Our timing was excellent. We motored till late afternoon and spent our time in the afternoon getting sail up and steering according to the change in wind direction. It was from the southwest when we got underway but veered slowly to the west as the afternoon wore on and more rain came, mostly in the form of a steady mist. Then it came northwest and started strengthening. It did not strengthen with a bang as some cold fronts can. It came and went and came and went several times, which frustrated me greatly. Finally around 5 PM, it was in full strength and the engines were off. Pride II had her plain sail set (mainsail, foresail, staysail, jib and foretopsail) and slid along on a broad reach at 10+ knots.

I can't say I consciously thought about choosing the starboard tack to reach off with first, as we pointed Pride II to the southeast then south as the wind veered from south to southwest and then west. Considering the landmass of Michigan was in our way for heading directly to Port Huron, it was natural to be on a starboard tack with wind coming from across the state and out of the south and west. If our position had not been as it was (that we arrived at Thunder Bay as the cold front arrived), we may have had to jibe to the east before I wanted to.

Choosing when to jibe is a matter of strategy. The decision is based on where the sailing vessel intends to end up and what lays between it and that destination. Jibing can be timed for minimum work for the crew or for maximizing the efficiency with which the vessel arrives at it's destination. So, my concern was not a matter of having to jibe. My concern was how many jibes would be necessary to arrive at Port Huron at the bottom of Lake Huron and the mouth of the St. Clair River and the beginning of the narrow route to Lake Erie. I needn't have worried. After delaying the jibe till the last moment as the Michigan shore south of Thunder Bay came near, Pride II raced off toward the southeast, at times reaching 12.6 knots and once reaching 13.5 knots. As the evening advanced, the wind veered further and finally got to the east of north. This permitted us to steer Pride II right around the thumb of Michigan and directly into Port Huron without the need of more jibes. Overall Pride II had averaged about 10 knots for 17 hours to cover the distance from Presque Isle Light to Port Huron. A good run. But it was not over yet.

A Too Close Call

We had enough wind to warrant leaving the foretopsail up as Pride II negotiated under power the St. Clair River, Lake St. Clare, and the Detroit River on her way to Lake Erie. With the rivers all running south or southeast and the wind from the north, the topsail was an aid to our speed and economy under power. The cooler than normal temperatures that came with the cold front were enjoyed by all. The flies disappeared too. The Saturday water enthusiasts were out, too, and we saw a large fleet of keelboats racing in Lake St. Clare. Some got pretty close. One even passed across our bow so close that you could have jumped from our jibboom and landed on the racer as it passed by under our bow.

There is just no accounting for the judgment of racers when they are racing. In this situation, the racecourse took the fleet across the main ship channel. Pride II is not the biggest commercial traffic commonly found on the ship channel, but she is too deep in the water to go out of the channel, since Lake St. Clare is shallow. For a racer to willfully get in front of Pride II and as close as this one did is a common phenomenon, but is by no means a prudent thing to do. But I should not single out Lake St. Clare racers. This type of activity exists all over the United States. One famous world class racer was taken to court in San Francisco back in the late 80's by a San Francisco pilot for doing the same thing to a big ship as it entered San Francisco Bay. The racer lost his case and had to pay a substantial fine, deservedly so. Had my racer misjudged his vessel's acceleration with the existing wind, Pride II could easily have done a lot of damage to the racer and maybe even some of it's crew - although I doubt we would have sustained much damage.

The maritime law in such a situation could easily have blamed me, in addition to the racer for a collision. He might have been sited for his decision to cross ahead of Pride II, a vessel constrained by the shipping channel. I might have been held responsible for not slowing down to allow the racers across since it could be deemed obvious that they would be tempted to cross ahead. The racer knows the rules as well as I do. He has insurance, too. But he does not have a commercial license. Thus he can't lose his right to operate vessels. But I might lose my right to command vessels in commerce by having my license revoked because of not taking prudent action to prevent a collision. So the racer gambles and has little to lose. I understand why he did it and I am happy that all came out just fine. But I have no respect for the racer because of the gamble he took. It was discourteous, unseamanlike, and ultimately unprofessional. But then he is not a professional. Is he?

Lake Erie

Lake Erie had north winds by the time we got there about 3 PM. The cold front had raced ahead of us as we made our way down river to Lake Erie. There was some 60 nautical miles to go to reach Cleveland. Pride II was not required to arrive in Cleveland till Sunday, so I first thought that we would spend the night going slowly to Cleveland and arrive about midday. But then I remembered that our arrival in Cleveland was not slated to be a public relations event. Hence it did not really matter when we arrived. The visit was important for the Maryland State Tourism agency, the Baltimore Area Convention and Visitors Association, the Maryland Port Authority and Tate Access Floors, a private sector company. All would be holding events aboard while Pride II was in Cleveland. But there was no time to host an open house for the citizens of Cleveland. With no arrangements for a big press arrival, it did not matter what hour we arrived, as long as we were set up for the first event. I quickly checked to see if there was a protected and available anchorage in Cleveland, and found there was. So the crew piled on the canvas all the way to all sail, which includes the jibtop and the maintop. Pride II raced along at between 8 and 10 knots the rest of the way.

As we sailed, we were treated to a glorious sunset with iridescent colors over the stern, as Cleveland's skyline rose proudly in front of us over our starboard bow. At dusk, Cleveland lit up brightly and looked handsome. The cloud cover over the city caused by the leading edge of the cold front reflected the city lights handsomely. Since it was Saturday evening, there were fireworks in a couple of locations along the shore to enjoy as Pride II raced in towards the city lights.

Pride II arrived at about 2230 hours and the crew worked well together getting sail in and stowed as Pride II maneuvered through Cleveland's breakwater. All was secure and quiet aboard by midnight. Pride II had transited 300 miles in 36 hours through lakes and narrow rivers. Good job everybody! All aboard admired the city for a while before turning in and sleeping till the late wake-up for Sunday morning set for 0930 hours.

Cleveland

Cleveland has gone through some major developments since the first time I visited here as captain of the original Pride back in 1981. The most recent addition to the Cleveland waterfront is the newly rebuilt Browns football stadium right next to the recently built Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Nearby is an area of the Cuyahoga River called The Flats where there used to be densely packed heavy industry and commercial freight shipping. Today the well known crooked Cuyahoga (named by the early native Indians because it means crooked) that runs past The Flats serves two roles. It has many restaurants, bars, and dance halls that line the river. But it still accommodates heavy shipping. It is great fun to sit at a restaurant on the river and watch as a Lake Freighter negotiates the Cuyahoga River past The Flats with so little room that one could almost reach out and touch the freighter as it goes slowly by.

Now that my partner Captain Parrott has been with the company a year, the changes of command between us go faster. He knows the vessel better and he helped choose the crew for this year and has sailed with them before. With this familiarity, we can spend more time talking about long term planing. But still there are recent changes and the status of ship and crew to debrief. Our new cook, Erin Cloherty, came aboard in Milwaukee to sail with our current cook, Theresa Tiedman, as a way to learn the ropes during an unrushed period of time. Theresa got off in Cleveland after four months aboard. Her family is from the Cleveland area, and her father, who has sailed aboard as guest crew, came by with Theresa's mom to help Theresa and Erin with a big grocery list in preparation for the long transit back to the east coast. We also have a new deckhand, Chris Landers, who came aboard in Chicago to replace the sudden departure of Gene Williams in Wyandotte.

The ship is in good shape and looks really fine after the efforts of the crew all summer. The fresh water has been easy on cosmetics too. So I forewarned Dan and the officers to be prepared for an acceleration of signs of wear and tear when they get back into salt water again. In fact, to prepare for the salty seas ahead, it would be helpful to get another coat of varnish on the ship. This won't be easy to do with the current busy itinerary. But this itinerary is no different than any of the past itineraries and the crews of the past have always kept Pride II's cosmetics looking good. Even so, after two months in fresh water, it can come as a shock how fast things start to show wear once the ship hits salt water.

Now I am home and getting back in the saddle of office work that supports the ship. I must find new crew to replace the crew that will be getting off once Pride II hits the east coast. Dan has already started this process, but I must complete it. There is also the planing for the fall maintenance of Pride II as well the Memorial Mast in the Inner Harbor - not to mention plans for the winter and scheduling for the millennium year of 2000. Somewhere within all this and more, I will take some time off before I return to Pride II in mid-September. Lots to do. Lots to do!

Cheers
Captain Miles