March 26, 2009
Do you dream to follow in the wake of Captain Cook, sailing the Endeavour along Australia’s coast? Well, now you can! Your ocean adventure begins when you board the world-recognised Endeavour replica and set sail for Cooktown. On your voyage leg, you will learn to sail, live and sleep like an 18th-century seafarer.
Find out more.
October 8, 2008
Monday, 6 October 2008
Noon position Lat 33°34.2′S Long 151°20.5′E
exiting Broken Bay
Day’s run 6.1 nm
At noon, the first shore party reaches the summit of a nearby hill – an advance party – up to explore before Wally, the chief engineer, leads a large group to the summit closest to Endeavour later this afternoon. The group of voyage crew who have sailed together previously on the navy’s sail-training vessel – HMB Endeavour’s oft confused namesake Young Endeavour – sit on a large rock just above the water. They are on the beach across from Endeavour, she is at anchor in Broken Bay. After some banter with some other crew, they invite a large splash from a carefully thrown log landing at their feet. Still fully clothed, they are dripping as they clamber back off the rock – revenge on their mind.
Tegan, the mizzenmast topman, becomes the target for their retribution – despite her innocence – and is dragged kicking and screaming towards the water. When she realises they are committed to throwing her in, she stops kicking and screaming, empties her pockets and takes her jumper off, then lies down quietly so they can resume carrying. Afterwards Teegs says her watch is “a bit too fun.” Back aboard the ship and Ant, Dirk, and Matt – the sailing master, navigator, and boatswain’s mate – are carrying out maintenance duties. Many long-weekenders (this being a three day weekend in NSW) are out in their boats and yachts, coming alongside and hailing the ship, curious and pleased to see her.
On shore, Wally has arrived, and leads the large group of voyage crew bushwalkers up over the rocky bushland hillside, through the thick scrub, to the nearest summit – where everyone can get a photo of Endeavour as she would have looked arriving on Australian shores in the 18th century, surrounded by untouched bushland. Once the walk is finished people go for a last swim before heading back to the ship, fizz-boat-load by fizz-boat-load (the ship’s rescue boat). Onboard Endeavour, the topman and upperyardies have joined in on the maintenance duties, Tom, the mainmast topman, and Amy, the mizzenmast yardie, are doing touch-up painting on the after fall deck.
Over afternoon smoko – a special treat of fine cheeses and crackers – the voyage crew member whose hammock came down the first night talks of her children who sailed on Young Endeavour, and how she regretfully complained: speaking of age discrimination as Young Endeavour is restricted to 18 to 23 year-olds. And of course when they heard about Endeavour she had to come aboard: “should have kept my big mouth shut!” she says with a laugh. Everyone is enjoying themselves but it is good, hard work; lucky she’s in for a spoilt evening. Around 1700 hours and preparations are being made for mess deck dinner, where the professional crew and officers serve the voyage crew on the 18th-century deck. Meanwhile the voyage crew make last minute preparations for their sods opera acts, madly photocopying and trying to practice discreetly. The tin whistle and fife are out again, contending with the sound of the main engines which the captain, Ross, and engineer, Wally, are testing. Ross does a quick free dive (without tanks) to have a look at the starboard propeller.
At 1800 hours the professional crew start appearing in 18th-century garb, and make the final preparations for mess deck dinner. At 1830 the voyage crew are called to their seats, and have a seafood feast followed by berry flan with cream and ice cream prepared by Abi and Darbey, the catering officer and cook’s mate – though Ross tells fables of being up each morning catching the prawns himself – gracious as ever as he clears plates. After dinner and clean up it’s time for wages, a tot of rum for every hand. Then it’s straight into sods. It’s an enormous and varied line up, with each watch (the Mizzenmast Marvels, the Mainmast Merrymakers, and the Foremast Fantasticals) contributing several acts each. There are songs, poetry readings, musicians, crazy dancing (so that’s what they do on navy sail-training vessels), a game of celebrity heads fulfilling the captain’s wildest dream, jokes, more poems, more songs, more musicians, and a stand-up comic act, all accompanied by Davey’s singing – the ship’s budgie. An amazing and spectacular sods.
After such and enjoyable evening people linger for a little while, but they know there’s a day and night of hard sailing to do and eventually get themselves into their hammocks. Up on the quarter deck Ant flicks the mizzen course – out to stabilise the ship’s position while at anchor – knocking the many perched moths off, he snatches one out of the air and teases a few of the crew with it, before releasing it in the face and scruffy pirate hair of his protégé Matt – who jumps to his feet and scrambles to get rid of it.
In the morning the crew awake to an open swimming pool off the side of the ship (showers are not allowed while we’re in the bay), and they have a marvellous time – if somewhat chilly – jumping in. Down in the galley Abi asks Wally to come up with a better way of keeping a dairy fridge door latched, “ah you’d like a more scientific way” says Wally; it’s these odd inventive tasks that Wally enjoys most. Those in the refreshing water off the side of the ship call up to there less enthusiastic shipmates: “come on, you gotta live a little.” It inspires a few more swimmers. Ant and Ross don wetsuits and full dive gear to go under the ship and work on the propeller. Tom the mainmast topman spots an eagle flying over the swimmers, a dignified sight above the slapdash swimmers.
As soon as the swimming pool closes for business, mainmast watch is commanded into their harnesses without a moments delay, there’s work to be done before they are called down to the second sitting of breakfast. They can hardly believe it and get themselves nowhere with a moment’s back chat, only delaying their partaking of the pancakes that torture their olfactory sense.
0900 hours sees much furling and reefing activity in the morning drizzle, it is picturesque despite the weather – low cloud set behind the nearby hills, with faint mist veiling those further back, adding depth to Endeavour’s surroundings – and making a fine, painterly scene. At 0940 the main engines are started while the crew lifts the fizz boat onto the ship. Ally, the foremast topman, has a brief sword fight with one of his watch, in which he interlocks right hands with his opponent with index fingers pointed out – and each tries to poke the other’s shoulder. The sails ready, reefs prepared, we commence weighing anchor, and we are underway at 1013. Broken Bay is crowded with boats ahead, it being Monday of the long weekend. At 1030 the fore topmast staysail and mizzenmast staysail are set, and mainmast watch climbs up to the main course. The watches are relayed through a thorough happy hour, inspected by Toby the chief officer, Ally’s foremast watch scrub away in the 18th century with the sound of sea shanties playing. And at 1130 the main topmast staysail is set.
With all the fun, shenanigans and tomfoolery, the chief officer is keen to get the crew back out to sea: they’ve obviously had far too much sleep.
All is well.
Contributed by ship’s steward Mischa Chaleyer-Kynaston
October 8, 2008
Sunday, 5 October 2008
Noon position Lat 33°35.94′S Long 151°14.18′E
Broken Bay, at anchor off Hallet’s Beach
Day’s run
The smell of mouth-watering steak sandwiches has been wafting up to the deck, and those in the 2nd sitting of lunch look forward to going down to the galley. At 1230 a trumpet sounds and starts blowing different tunes – it looks to be a music filled sods opera tomorrow night. The 2nd sitting of lunch is called down, and as they take their seats – plates laden – an announcement comes over the PA declaring a whale sighting. The diners look at one another, “Hmm… whales? Or steak sandwich?” No one opts for the whales! Matt the boatswain’s mate sets a lunchtime record, seconds, thirds, fourths! Four massive steak sandwiches, written on the menu as “Chippy’s Store Flame Grilled Steaks” in homage to the morning’s fire drill – which was hypothetically caused by Matt in the chippy’s store. All downed before the first end-of-lunch warning. Abi – the catering officer – gives him a knowing smile and nod as he takes his fourth helping.
As they finish lunch one of the voyage crew asks “what are we going to do now?” Someone mentions sods night and that they should prepare, but the first replies “I would love to hitch my hammock!” But they know there’s not much hope of that. For the rest of the afternoon any voyage crew with some idle time work on their sods ideas and routines. It is raining properly now and all on deck are in their wet weather gear. At 1300 we hand the main course followed by the fore course at 1400, handing the sails in preparation for our entrance into Broken Bay to anchor. At 1420 there are many sea buckets being handled on deck – but seem to be tossed back over the side; the biodegradable refuse (the “slops”) have been thrown over the side – and much has been left on the ship’s hull, the sea buckets are being used to wash it off.
At 1430 Captain Ross announces we will be entering Broken Bay – last opportunity for showers! And there is a mad dash of voyage crew down below – who had obviously forgotten that there is close control of the grey water tanks while we are close to shore or in port. We wear ship for our final approach into Broken Bay. At 1450 there is another whale sighting, a pair very close by. At 1500 hours the supernumeraries – the voyage crew housed in the gentleman’s quarters on the after-fall deck near the captain’s cabin – are treated to afternoon tea with the captain in the great cabin. The main engines are started and both the fore and main topsails are handed. All hands are employed to furl sails as we enter Broken Bay at 1640 hours, many voyage crew aloft – out on the yards – as we come in. At 1720 we lay anchor off Hallet’s Beach, amongst pristine national park bushland. For dinner Abi and Darbey, the cook’s mate, serve creamy mushroom pasta, with sumptuous honey-glazed sweet potato, pork fillets, and for desert bananas cooked in rum and brown sugar – to die for. The captain scampers in while the second sitting finishes, looking sheepish and humble as he looks at Abi with the best puppy-dog eyes he can muster – and is granted a plate of food.
At 1800 hours, with two and a half shackles of anchor cable out, there is 3.2 metres of depth under the keel. And it’s movie night! The captain, with assistance from the crew, sets up a screen on the weather deck, and projects incredible footage of Bark Endeavour ripping along under full sail, and rolling like anyone aboard knows she can, then plays a movie of a massive 7-storey high tallship sailing the wrong way around the horn. Everyone thoroughly enjoys the respite, the popcorn, and the chocolate. Afterwards there is a full night’s sleep for the crew (except for some brief anchor watches), and a sleep in, with brunch served at 1000 hours. At 1030, just as the crew prepares for a visit ashore for some more R&R, a nearby boat and sightseer fouls up our anchor buoy, very embarrassing for the boat’s helmsman. Ant the sailing master and boatswain, and Tom the mainmast topman, jump in the fizz boat and go out and untangle the cable from the propeller, luckily done without entering the water (just – Ant was almost down to his underwear to jump in and sort it out).
At about 1100 hours the first shore party is away, landing on the nearby beach, and the fizz boat begins ferrying back and fourth with boatloads of five voyage crew at a time. It is overcast but the rain seems to have abated, and it’s lovely to see the ship from the shore in this unspoilt, natural setting.
All is well.
Contributed by the ship’s steward Mischa Chaleyer-Kynaston
October 8, 2008
Saturday, 4 October 2008
Noon position Lat 33°35.4′S Long 151°36.6′E
Day’s run 96nm
At 1230 there is an interesting cloud formation on the radar, not dissimilar to the appearance of land. The captain, Ross, wonders whether we’re in for a squadron of moths. Tegan, the mizzenmast topman, doesn’t know about the manifestation on the radar, but comments on the cloud formation, pretty and interesting, unique. With everyone on their sea legs they can now appreciate and glory in some of their battle damage, proud that they have wounds that make a fine sight but hadn’t yet noticed: “no wonder my shins are hurting!”
While lunch finishes up (featuring perfect, succulent chicken prepared by Abi and Darbey, the catering officer and cook’s mate), the captain chats with the sailing master and navigator, Ant and Dirk, about an afternoon plan. Set the topgallants perhaps? Jib? Might be the only opportunity for the “TGs” – which require lighter winds. Or is it time for an emergency drill? They have some discussion, interrupted by a call for mainmast watch to report to deck for sail handling, and the captain goes to check the conditions and make a final decision. The sound of wind instruments filter down to the galley, playing a pleasant tune, the last diners point their ears up and speculate its origin, must be coming from the 18th-century deck immediately above. No where to be found. Continuing up and there they are, two mizzen watch voyage crew, sitting by the main hatch in the waist of the ship, one playing a “penny whistle” – a low D tin whistle, and the other playing a fife. In fact it’s the two crew members who shared a birthday on the first day, born to the same musical persuasion.
There is an abundance of sail handling, 1340 sees the jib set, followed closely by the mizzen topmast staysail, the fore topgallant and the main topgallant. At 1430 the navigator sits on the gentleman’s mess skylight and polishes the sextant – the timeless (metaphorically speaking, as time is a crucial aspect of it’s calculations) device for taking readings of celestial bodies to fix the ship’s position, polishing the object a pleasure rather than a chore. Ross gives a talk about weather patterns and square-rig sailing, referring to the 4-day synoptic chart. 1500 hours sees the few extra sails handed back in, first the jib, then the fore and main TGs, and the mizzen topmast staysail. During the operation Abi the catering officer brings a mysterious basket up to the deck, those furling the main topgallant are teased with glimpses of chocolate therein. With most of the sail handling done, Ben, the second mate, announces over the PA: “I have been instructed that if you would like a chocolate bar, then you must attend the rest of the captain’s talk…” Suddenly there are several professional crew – who don’t usually attend – sitting front row centre.
Sitting up at the bridge relaxing, a few voyage crew befriend Davey – the ship’s budgie – trying to get some conversation out of him without getting bitten. After some time he obliges, chattering softly; they worry about his feathers, many shed in the strong winds of the last day or so. There is talk of sods opera night coming up, performance possibilities. And at smoko time it’s treat after treat, from chocolate to corn chips and guacamole, yum! At 1710 the captain looks excited, dashing to his sea chest in the great cabin and pulling out the reference books for shooting stars, he, the navigator, and the mates are going to take readings with the sextants and try to fix our position. A few minutes later and the skipper and navigator are sitting over their books by the aft companion way, preparing for the moment after sunset when stars will appear. Endeavour is sailing into the sunset, bearing towards Sydney, still somewhat south of our destination. A cool evening breeze is felt during the twilight, but the chill aspect does not last long, turning to a warm breeze and a mild night.
1800 hours sees the spritsail clewed up, and at the same time down below, while slinging their hammock, a voyage crew member calls: “would suck if you were short doing this!” She’s obviously not vertically challenged herself. After a delicious stew for dinner there is banana split with chocolate sauce, cream, ice cream, nuts and freckles, making Abi and Darbey very popular – as usual. At 1830 Dirk and Ben are on the quarterdeck trying to get a good sighting, but unfortunately they only get one star – as it has become quite overcast – enough for a line only and not a position. Before the sextants are put away all hands are called on deck for a change of course, we are to tack ship! The conditions are favourable and the crew of Endeavour accomplish a fine tacking manoeuvre. An hour later, 2000 hours, and she’s sailing full and by on gentle seas.
At 2230 there is some lightning and squall activity, the southerly change hits, and the topsails are clewed. The main topmast staysail and the mizzen staysail are handed. During the change of watch there is much sail handling, the idlers called up to help. It is an “interesting” night, says the captain, thunder and lightning, wind and no wind and wind again. At 0100 the fore and main topsails are set again, and at 0250 we hand the main course, only to re-set it at 0345. The seas are slight and the wind veering. At 0500 we set the mizzen staysail, the wind variable but mainly blowing a westerly. And at 0620 we drop the mizzen staysail again, as the winds start filling in from the south. At 0720 the yards are braced around, similar to wearing ship but in this case there is no change in course – only a change in the wind.
Over breakfast a voyage crew member of foremast watch speaks of their gruelling 6 hour shift the night before (4 hours plus some cross over), “sails up, then down, then up, then down. They don’t let you lie down on this ship! Believe me I’ve tried!” They try to finish off some breakfast while their topman calls them on deck to report for watch duty again. At 0810 mainmast watch is massed at the top of the galley companionway with baited breath, waiting for their sitting of breakfast to be called. At 0835 the winds are 13-15 knots south-south-east, and we are bearing north to anchor in Broken Bay – for some respite and leisure time for the hard-working crew, and for sods opera night.
1000 hours and we wear ship, 1045 sees a south-westerly change, and Dirk comes over the PA: “We are sailing again! Come and see before the rain.” The southerly means sailing, and also means rain. Mainmast watch escapes from the oncoming rain and practices their sods opera routine with their supernumerary in the great cabin – little do they know they are about to be rudely interrupted. At 1110, as if the previous 24 hours hadn’t seen enough action, Matt the boatswain’s mate comes running out the chippy’s store calling: “Fire! Fire! This is an exercise! There’s a fire in the chippy’s store!” Time for a fire drill. The entire ship’s complement muster on deck, checked off by Ben, the second mate. Ally the foremast topman and Ant the sailing master don their fire fighting gear and head down below. The watches work in teams to respond to different tasks, hosing the deck above the source of the fire, and moving the stand-alone fire pump (not dependent on the ship’s generators for power). At 1120 we brace the main sails aback and heave-to, to get the fire pump working. A yacht passes by on the starboard side, unnoticed by the busy crew of Bark Endeavour. The drill is completed and we get back underway under sail. During the debriefing a few questions are asked, “what happens to Davey if it comes to abandoning ship?” The captain replies: “Davey is emergency rations”!
At 1157 lunch is called, and a big call goes out from main and mizzenmast watches who are in the first sitting: “YES!!”
All is well.
Contributed by ship’s steward Mischa Chaleyer-Kynaston
October 8, 2008
Friday, 3 October 2008
Noon position Lat 34°06′S Long 152°10′E
Day’s run 99.4nm
After the rolly morning there are a few new under-the-weather crew members, including a couple of professional crew. Attendance to lunch is variable, and the diners are very selective, taking care of delicate stomachs. In the lull after lunch, the mizzen and mainmast topman, Tegan and Tom, sit on the skylight above the gentlemen’s mess, leisurely throwing torn bits of cardboard at Matt the boatswain’s mate (under the guise of throwing it overboard) – who is hard at work sanding the quarterdeck railing.
The afternoon is harsh and clear, with big rollers still coming in; the glare is intense, with a large section of the sky a blinding white, brilliantly reflected in the ocean. Ross, the captain, gives a talk about 18th-century sailing, describing the workings of Bark Endeavour’s sails. There is an albatross sighting, then another, and suddenly the captain hails yours truly, the steward, up to the quarterdeck with the ship’s camera, a flock of six albatrosses altogether – usually seen alone if at all. They sit on the surface of the water, bobbing up on top of large rollers then disappearing down the other side. “It is spring,” remarks Ant, the sail master and boatswain; Ben, the second mate laughs, “it’s probably one female and five males, that’s why one keeps taking off!”
At 1435 all hands are called for sail handling, to wear ship. Everyone gets into position, and just as we commence, Josh, the foremast upperyardie, catches a fish: a skipjack tuna! Naughtily, it’s reeled in by Amanda, the mainmast yardie. Once the wear ship is successful the chief officer, Toby, musters the crew for an explanation of the manoeuvre, and then everyone gets in position to do it again – to practice and perfect the crews’ technique. They do so marvellously and are congratulated for their efforts, with Bonito sashimi served for afternoon smoko.
At the onset of evening, the chief officer is on the bridge and asks the voyage crew helmsman: “happy with full and by?” – to ensure the voyage crew member understands the direction. “As longs as it’s like a dinghy!” says the voyage crew member, “ahh, she’s a little slower to respond than a dinghy” chuckles the chief officer, but the principle is the same. The mainmast yardie is down below and goes through the knots required for hammocks again – to ensure there are no more falls, and the topman, yardies and idlers are called upon to double check the knot work. For dinner Abi and Darbey serve delicious, hearty lasagne, enormously satisfying, wonderful for those whose appetites have returned since the morning rolling.
At 1600 hours Bark Endeavour is sailing under the fore and main topsails with two reefs, the fore topmast staysail, and the fore course; she’s making 5-6 knots. While the sun sets a brown bird, variously described as a wedgetail or petrel, seems to be confused by the shrouds, almost getting caught in them and finally landing on a voyage crew member’s head! Then on another! It is most disconcerting. As darkness falls a new moon appears low on the horizon, directly ahead, preceding a clear and starry night. By 2000 hours the seas are easing, and at midnight there is only the odd roll, it is smooth sailing. At 0600 hours the mizzen staysail is set, followed at 0715 by the main course. It is lovely sailing in calm seas with so much canvas set. The crew awake from their first good night’s sleep to find their vessel full and by on a slight sea.
Coming up from breakfast Dirk, the navigator and medical officer, is on the bridge with a broad smile – he’s happiest when he’s taking readings with the sextant, the same device used in Cook’s day to find position by celestial objects. The morning meeting is called, we are about level with Sydney and still bearing south, with more strong northerlies expected hopefully followed by a southerly. The crew get into happy hour, the chief officer calling upon his topman and yardies to ensure a thorough cleaning job is done – as the last couple of days were a bit rushed. Most have fully recovered from their seasickness now, and there are many cheerful faces.
Once happy hour is completed, all hands are called for sail handling. At 1015 the topsails are lowered and a reef taken out to bring them back to single reefs in each, at 1045 the main topmast staysail is set, 1100 hours sees all watches working hard at it. At 1115 both topsails are re-set.
The winds are increasing slightly, Bark Endeavour is sailing easy on a starboard tack, the best sailing she’s had in a while.
All is well.
Contributed by ship’s steward Mischa Chaleyer-Kynaston
October 8, 2008
Thursday, 2 October 2008
Noon position: Lat 33°25.9′S Long 153°53.4′E
Day’s run: 156.6 nm
Out in the swell and some crew members feel the effect, a few are sitting in the waist (the middle section of the ship) hugging “happy buckets” closely. A voyage crew member complains: “there was no mention of seasickness on the website!” Turns out he had neglected to read the log, lucky his spirits are still high – with Port Macquarie and sight of land falling swiftly behind Bark Endeavour.
The winds are high, up around 25 knots gusts of 30 knots, and Endeavour takes advantage. Sails are set in quick succession, one after the other; the main topsail, fore course, and fore topsail, and the main topmast staysail is handed in. Mainmast watch takes many ocean showers while setting sail, as waves splash over the bow and waist. At 1530 all hands are called on deck, thinking they’re in for sail handling. Everyone assembles in the waist and numbers off, as soon as Toby, the chief officer, is sure everyone is present he declares afternoon smoko time: all hands have been called to celebrate a birthday among the voyage crew! The lucky birthday fellow gets a sea shower for his trouble, as do many of the crew, with another wave splashing the deck.
At 1650 mizzenmast watch are aloft to put a second reef in the fore topsail, with half their number down and taken by seasickness. It’s a tough job with the wind pushing hard, and some stoic voyage crew work at it even though seasickness is gripping them – with the unsurprising result of some being sick from the fighting top! Fortunately seasickness is typically accompanied by wind and a rolling ship; it heads directly out to sea rather than onto those on the deck (as long as one stands on the lee/downwind side!).
The ship breaks her speed record since sailing for the ANMM: 10.7 knots! Although the sail master and boatswain, Ant, notes that she had the help of the current, so the captain, Ross, doesn’t think it counts. Either way, it is in the realm of her top speeds (the highest recorded is 12 knots).
The first night at sea is not without drama, a hammock goes down and its occupant gets a battle bump she could have done without, and a supernumerary takes a good tumble across the gentleman’s mess. At 2000 hours the watch officer notes “moderate seas”, by 0100 it has changed to “building seas”, and it builds and builds. During the night the captain shaves 20 degrees of her south heading to ease the roll a little, losing some ground, but no one appreciates it – for it’s still a restless sleep for all aboard. Not much ground is lost though; by 0600 she is level with Broken Bay, beyond her destination: Newcastle.
At 0650, 100 nautical miles off shore, we wear ship, and head back towards land. Morning briefings are held, for the professional and voyage crew; the seas continue to build and seasickness has a strong hold of many. The priority is to keep the crew active, to ensure a speedy recovery. Most still manage a smile, and all are up on deck in the fresh air. After the meeting, foremast and mizzenmast watches hit cleaning stations, “happy hour”, while mainmast watch climbs aloft to put a second reef in the main topsail – with the help of the idlers to fill in for their seasick shipmates.
The day is hot, clear and windy, with big rolling seas.
All is well.
Contributed by ship’s steward Mischa Chalayer-Kynaston
October 8, 2008
Wednesday, 1st October 2008
Noon position: Lat 31°30.2′S Long 153°0.4′E
Day’s run: 7 nm
It’s time for the best part of crew induction, mizzenmast watch are in their safety harnesses ready for “up and overs” – their first climb aloft. Up the shrouds, and down the other side. During the first sitting of lunch mainmast watch completes their up and over, and are rewarded with two birthday cakes for afternoon “smoko”, two voyage crew members are celebrating today. As the day progresses many Port Macquarie townsfolk linger on the wharf, taking photos and watching the training activities on board.
At 1640 all hands work to haul the “fizz boat” (the ship’s rescue boat) up onto the main hatch – its position while Endeavour sails. Ben, the second mate is very impressed with the new voyage crew’s first team effort, “…thanks guys, wonderful. Love your work!” Soon after, foremast watch is doing their up and overs, all lined up for the experience, with Dirk the navigator and medical officer keeping an eye on them at the base of the foremast shrouds, and Ally, their topman, up by the fighting top to offer moral support. While foremast watch is aloft, mizzenmast and mainmast watch run through bracing station drills, with Toby – the chief officer – calling the ropes.
At 1800 hours mainmast watch put a reef in the main topsail, and furl it in the fading light. They do an impressive job – none would suspect it was their first furl. Abi and Darbey cook a delicious feast to end the day, filling the voyage crew’s hungry stomachs after the first day’s hard labour.
The crew of Bark Endeavour awake to a beautiful, cool, clear morning, ready for departure. The activity starts immediately, at 0830 foremast watch is flaking anchor cable on deck, and 10 minutes later the gangway is removed, with Craig and Paula, the ship keeper and shore manager, working hard at the task. The boats of the Port Macquarie Sea Rescue are out in force to assist, and throngs of people are on the wharf and lining the breakwater, there’s a big turnout of Port Macquarie locals to see the ship off. There are two historic launches among the vessels on the water, there to give HMB Endeavour a send off, sounding their horns in salute.
At 0912 the last lines are let go to the sound of applause from the audience ashore, and Ant, the sail master and boatswain, leads the crew in three cheers for Port Macquarie, given with a thunderous boom that only sailors can muster. As she heads past the breakwater surfers can be seen riding waves into town beach, and at 0940 she clears the bar – safely underway. The mizzen staysail and fore topmast staysail go up, followed by the main topmast staysail, and at 1100 hours foremast watch are up on the foremast course yard and mainmast watch on the mainmast course, letting the sails out.
At 1115 two whales are spotted off the port quarter, and a pod of dolphins appears off the port bow, playing, splashing and showing off in the waves approaching the bow. At 1150 mizzenmast watch races to finish setting sail before heading down to lunch. Captain Ross comes over the PA: “We have set sails, and the main engines are off. We are sailing!”
All is well.
Contributed by ship’s steward Mischa Chaleyer-Kynaston
October 8, 2008
Friday, 30th September 2008
Port Macquarie, alongside Lady Nelson Wharf, Town Green
It’s a bright, sunny morning in Port Macquarie, Bark Endeavour stands tall and elegant in the morning light, ready to welcome her new voyage crew aboard. Early arrivals start appearing alongside at 0800, slowly others join them until there is a crowd waiting on the wharf with their luggage, all eyes on the ship.
The topman and upper yardies of each watch – the foremast, mainmast, and mizzenmast – circulate through the crowd seeking their watch members, whom they will look over, teach, and guide, while sailing Endeavour. Watch by watch they board the ship, after ticking their name off and getting a voyage crew uniform shirt from Paula, the shore manager. Once aboard they head below and stow their luggage, have a quick glance at the locker room and galley area, then rejoin their topman and are issued their watch number. Their watch number is used regularly to confirm all are present and accounted for – a crucial safety protocol, as well as other logistics like who is on galley duty – crucial for every crew stomach.
The watch members introduce themselves within each watch, talk a little about their backgrounds and lives on land, then commence a tour of the ship and safety inductions. All hands are called to the quarter deck for the first morning briefing with the captain, Ross, and chief officer, Toby, a daily ritual. Toby is looking smart with his flash new walking stick, keeping him afoot after rolling his ankle during the arrival at Port Mac. Ross welcomes the voyage crew aboard and introduces all of the professional crew with only one minor slip-up, his best first day introductions on record! Toby takes over and begins going through the enormous amount of information the voyage crew will receive by the end of the day, regarding safety and general ship operations. There’s loads to go through, but it will all be reiterated with hands on demonstrations within each watch.
While Toby gives his briefing the other crew return to their duties preparing the ship for departure. The yardies are on maintenance with Ant, the sail master and boatswain, oiling cleats and bunts; the captain and Wally, the engineer, start up the motors and run a test; and Dirk, the navigator and medical officer, checks the navigation and communication equipment. A few dolphins splash lazily past the yardies and boatswain’s mate, the ship is of little interest to the dolphins while she’s stationary.
Toby finishes his briefing and the watches return to their topman and yardie, and continue their tour and safety induction. Ally, the foremast topman, explains the requirements of the bow watch, and the use of life rings; Tom, the mainmast topman, goes through some rope handling, finishing with “Clear as mud? Beautiful.” It’s a lot to take in, on the first day everything is run through at least once and some practicing is done, but integrating the knowledge properly is accomplished at sea.
Endeavour is due to depart tomorrow morning on the high tide, weather permitting, at about 0930 hours.
All is well.
Contributed by ship’s steward Mischa Chaleyer-Kynaston
September 24, 2008
Tuesday, 23rd September 2008
Noon position: Lat 31°36.6´S Long 153°04.8´E
Day’s run: 65 nm
A quick rearranged lunch and the crew is ready to attempt the bar crossing into Port Macquarie. There’s a 1.5 metre swell and winds around 20 knots, several yachts form a welcoming party to greet Bark Endeavour. The ship bounds in the swell, from bow to stern, some exhilarating bow waves showering those lucky enough to be working on the foredeck – preparing lines or laying out anchor cable. The winds strengthen and the ship goes a little south of the channel, kissing the sandbar softly. At 1320 life jackets are brought up, one for every crew member – 56 bright orange vests – required for the bar crossing.
The winds are up, between 25 and 30 knots, and Endeavour is bouncing near the mouth of the river with trepidation. A few moments pass, the last preparations are made with the berthing lines at the ready, and everyone waits on deck with baited breath. At 1335 the mates collect the life jackets, Ross, the captain, has decided to call off the entry. We are not going in today. He calls an immediate meeting with the voyage crew to explain the decision. The swell is ok for crossing the bar, but the winds are too strong for berthing the ship. Our entry is very much dependent on the tide, and today the tidal window has been blocked by high winds.
1400 hours and numerous people can be seen on the 18th-century mess deck with mobile phones out. Ally, the foremast topman and an experienced tallship sailor, says he’s “never seen so many phones on an 18th-century tallship!” But with the attempted bar crossing averted, and the possibility of a few more days at sea, there are travel plans to be renegotiated. At 1415 Ross calls the voyage crew down to the galley for a talk about weather forecasting and synoptic patterns, something he has been promising to do for a few days. Afterwards the voyage crew have a thorough understanding of the weather front behind us and why there are gale force winds on shore.
To end the weather briefing there is a call over the PA: “Whales breaching of the port bow!” Within moments Ross has lost his audience: “that’s one way to end a meeting !” After a moment of whale watching, Ben, the second mate comes over the PA: “Ah, now that you’re all on deck…” the voyage crew know what’s coming, “let’s have watches aloft to reef sails!” And everyone is hard at work again, Bark Endeavour needs to get out to sea before the weather front stirs up the coast. At 1515 whales are spotted again, crew aloft have a spectacular view. The sail handling continues for the next two hours, it’s a bit of a shock for the voyage crew after being within sight of land and in reach of relaxation.
For dinner there is sumptuous fish cooked with love by Abi and Darbey, it’s delicious, and an enormous comfort to the worn out crew. Everyone is a little giddy and hyperactive, people are joking and being silly with each other, as we head back out to sea together for who knows how long. Following dinner it is an absolutely stunning night on deck, pitch black interrupted by bolts of lightning, travelling every which way through the clouds on the horizon. Occasional dull thunder rumbles and rolls overhead, but the worst of the storm seems to be clinging to the coastline behind us and there is little rain to speak of.
At 1900 the wind is boxing the compass (going round and round without settling or maintaining turn to it’s direction). At 2000 we wear ship and set a new course north-west. By midnight the lightning squall has diminished and the wind is almost non-existent. At 0200 hours the winds increase to force 3 and are blowing northerly, at 0415 we wear ship again. The really troublesome thunderstorm activity expected to develop hasn’t arrived yet. At 0800 we wear ship. At the morning meeting Ross announces that we will be trying to cross the bar into Port Macquarie again. Will it be a groundhog day? It’s uncertain, conditions appear to be favourable, but no one can be sure whether the expected storm activity will blow in proper.
At 0945 all hands are called on deck, watches head aloft with surprising vigour to furl, their topman and yardies have kept them in good working order despite the to-ing and fro-ing of the ship’s schedule. The motors go on and we power back towards Port Macquarie with our “fingers and toes crossed”, as the captain puts it. At 1100 hours dolphins come alongside and say hello to the ship which doesn’t know if it’s coming or going. A good omen for the voyage crew perhaps? Happy hour says otherwise, cleaning stations! Suddenly the crew are not so vigourous.
After a fairly lazy but nonetheless thorough happy hour it’s lunchtime, then preparations are made for going to shore. After midday we come up to the bar, the swell is light, and the winds die down as if preparing for us. The skipper jumps aboard a local rescue boat and does a quick reccie of the entrance. All appears well, Ross announces that we will be going in!
Everyone reports to their muster stations and don life jackets efficiently after their practice the day before. The Port Macquarie breakwater is lined with a massive crowd of locals come to greet Endeavour and her crew. There is much waving and cheering, and invitations to the local tavern thrown across the water. Bark Endeavour is a 400 tonne ship, and she is in a narrow channel, the final manoeuvre to berth her is done slowly and carefully with the assistance of Port Macquarie Volunteer Sea Rescue. Once berthed securely the crew go about the final ceremonies of disembarkation. The captain dishes out the wages (a drop of rum for each crew member), and hands out track charts and certificates. Afterwards everyone packs their luggage, then are called up on deck – where the rains have finally arrived – for a last bit of heavy work. The rescue boat is heaved ashore and the gangway and shore staging are constructed.
Farewells are made, there are many handshakes and pats on the back, and a voyage crew member speaks of his envy of the professional crew who are to keep sailing Bark Endeavour – “enjoy it” he says, “before you have a spouse and six kids.”
Thank you, I wish you fair winds and farewell.
All is well.
Contributed by ship’s steward Mischa Chaleyer-Kynaston
September 24, 2008
Monday, 22nd September 2008
Noon position: Lat 31°28′S Long 153°00.1′E
Day’s run: 77 nm
Chicken soup and salads for lunch, easy enough for the last voyage crew recovering from seasickness to have a spoonful. Mainmast watch finishes their spud peeling competition, with a clear winner of the longest peel trophy as adjudicated by the Ben the second mate. After the peeling is done and the competition complete they finish off with “the spud cannons!” All lined up in the waist of the ship by Bark Endeavour’s cannons they launch a handful of peel over the side and shout BANG!!! It’s fun, but it’s just not the same. On deck it’s still bright and beautiful, calm as a pond, and people are swanning about in the sun. Perfect conditions for an emergency drill. Ben calls it over the PA: “Man overboard drill! Man overboard drill!” And the sound of the general alarm knocks the crew out of their slumber.
The professional crew all rush to their designated man overboard positions, and the voyage crew to their muster stations. Those already on deck are standing and pointing directly at our man overboard dummy: “Oscar”, a green ball (Oscar is the name of the code flag flown by a ship in a man overboard situation); the lookouts do not take their eyes off him, and keep their arms rigid pointing at him – a clear indicator for the rest of the rescue effort. Dirk the navigator starts his timer the moment the first call is made over the PA. Darbey, the cook’s mate, and Ally, the foremast topman, suit up, while the mates, Toby and Ben, command the voyage crew hoisting the rescue boat. The boat is launched with Ally at the tiller and Darbey in the bow, they look back to the lookouts to get their bearing and race to save Oscar.
Darbey is heard on the radio: “Man overboard recovered!” Ross, the captain, looks at Dirk and asks for the time, “ten minutes precisely.” It is calm conditions, with nil ship speed, and in 10 minutes the man overboard drifted 0.2 nautical miles (about 370 metres). It is a clear demonstration of the necessity for a speedy rescue should a real emergency arise, which would be more likely to occur under strenuous sea conditions. Oscar is appropriately chastised on his return and told not to do it again. After the drill, with the rescue boat in the water and Bark Endeavour heaved to, the crew are rewarded for their efforts with a unique experience: a swim in the open ocean with 4000 metres of water below them, and 65 nautical miles from land – well beyond the edge of the continental shelf. It is a welcome reprieve from the heat and humidity aboard ship the last two days, the water is blue and pristine clear: absolutely refreshing.
A little work is done immediately after the swim, with some crew pulling lines while still in their bathers – the rescue boat has to be hauled back onboard and the lines cleaned up, and all sails out are set on a starboard tack. Once completed, and everyone is out of their swimmers, the day returns to a peaceful tone. There is talk of the sod’s opera night coming up, reading in the sun, and on the foredeck there is a guitarist practicing. At 1600 hours one of the topman is hunting down a line under the direction of Ant the sailing master/boatswain, they look and look, getting closer, only to be trumped by their own upperyardie, who finds it first. Ant thinks it’s very amusing and makes sure to rub it in, “I was close!” huffs the topman.
At 1640 the top gallants are clewed, followed by furling. There are many cameras watching from the deck below; sail handling – up so high in perfect weather – is a pretty sight. Except one voyage crew member up on the yard calls: “No more butt shots!” Pictures taken from below and behind a yard while a crew member is hanging over it can be less than flattering (or more flattering – as the case may be!).
It’s movie night, after a scrumptious Sunday roast courtesy of Abi and Darbey in the galley, it’s time for Sunday night moonlight cinema courtesy of Ross. Onto the main course sail is projected images of Endeavour under full sail and hurtling along, followed by incredible footage of a massive tallship sailing the wrong way around the horn. Popcorn and chocolate travel up from the galley, bringing more enthusiastic patrons.
The night passes smoothly with a little lightning teasing from the horizon but not drawing closer, at 2200 hours the wind is backing rapidly, blowing north-west and north, freshening force 4. During the 0400-0800 watch with mizzenmast watch on duty there is a splendid shooting star: space debris burning large and blue, similar to a comet. A pod of dolphins also welcomes the ship into the day. It is another beautiful morning, with french toast on the breakfast menu (known as Matt’s french toast, the boatswain’s mate, for it’s his favourite brekkie). And on either side of breakfast all the sails are clewed, followed by a whole lot of furling.
At 1000 hours the captain calls the voyage crew for a morning meeting, the news: we are heading in. The iron staysails (the engines) are up, there might be a chance to enter the Port Macquarie river mouth before gale force winds close the door – and Captain Ross has decided to take it. The entry is highly dependent on both the wind and the sea state – if the conditions aren’t suitable then Endeavour will be headed back out to sea ’til the time is right.
After the briefing it’s time for “happy hour”, cleaning stations on board, everything is to be ship shape for arrival. Afterwards everyone is on deck in uniform ready to attempt the bar crossing into Port Macquarie.
All is well.
Contributed by ship’s steward Mischa Chaleyer-Kynaston
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