Europa Ships Log

 Having fun and enjoying the atmospheric sky show

14:15 hours - 34.20.10'N x 73.21.42'W

Wow. Yesterday was one of the most intense days of sailing I've ever experienced. The wind picked up considerably in the afternoon, forcing us to take in our highest and most outboard sails. We would pile on sail, and take it back in as soon as the wind got too intense for some sails.

All day we heeled way over, sailing the ship to its optimum. Sprays of bitter salt water leapt over the deck often enough that the lookouts forward on the lee side needed to wear foul-weather gear. We "wore" ship twice, that is, to change direction by bringing our stern past the wind. The wind, increasing to force five, made the sails much more difficult to handle. Whenever we had to bring down the flying and outer jibs we would need to line people up, as many as a dozen, along the foredeck to haul in unison to bring the wind-whipped sails down. It was still difficult, even with a dozen straining bodies heaving on a single line fighting the wind for every pull.

When the sails get taken in in, they need to be furled. At one point we took in the flying jib, the outermost head-sail on our jib-boom, which protrudes from the bow of the ship.  The flying jib, then, was being furled only one crew member, Erika Wasner. The sail, like a flailing bull, whipped about as she tried with great effort to bring it in. With the other crew members aloft furling the sky-sails, Erika was asking for our help to bring it in. I donned a harness, quick as I could and half-dashed, somewhat blundered my way out there.

Not hesitating I grabbed at the canvas trying to escape from our head-rig, and we then violently hauled it in. Right behind me was Selange Gitschner, trainee, who bravely tackled the sail with us. We held it down while Erika tied it up. It was tamed. She later told me that I had made it to the scene just in time.

I was woken for watch later at midnight. I groggily got up. The boat was rocking a good bit, but that was how I left it when I went to my bunk a few hours earlier.  I stumbled out into an empty hallway making my way to the deck above. I came up on deck in time to enter a much more chaotic scene.

Boom! Flash! Storm! Everyone was donning full-body harnesses as lightning spiraled around the ship. The thud of thunder punctuated sentences. "Oh  boy!" I thought, "We are going to get it now." I got my harness on very quickly and dashed out of the deckhouse just in time to help haul up the mainsail. 

For the next hour we kept taking in sail, Captain Klaas was was giving orders from the quarter-deck; "Take in royals!", "Take in the mizzen royal staysail!" "Take in T'Gallants!" "Take in Desmond!" The sails came in, fast, furiously, furled and secured. Our trainees, bolstered by the lightning and rain, worked together at a level that we had not achieved in the daytime. 

As we wore ship to change course I could see the trainees on the main braces, hauling away "2-6", "2-6" was their hauling cadence as they brought the main braces to bear on their new heading. Again on the fore braces, "2-6", "2-6", "2-6 heave!" as we muscled our way onto a new course.

I took the wheel after we wore ship. By then the rain had stopped, but bursts of fog lightning, and gnarled chain lightning sliced the air around us, thunder booming across the waves, echoing among the void. 

Thankfully, the squall was not big; we were only in the midst of it for maybe ten minutes. The lightning and thunder was pretty exciting. The reaction of our trainees to the situation surprised me. Instead of being worried or frightened by the prospect of a night-time stormy squall at sea most instead seemed to be having fun, enjoying the atmospheric sky show going on all around us and unhesitatingly stepping up to the sail-handling challenges that rattled down in quick succession from the quarterdeck.

Neil Forrest, trainee, from Charleston, told me today that it was "awesome" and that it was just the kind of thrill-seeking he was looking for. Sara Lagan, a Bermudan trainee told me that the whole affair was "Brilliant! One of the most memorable parts so far" Was she scared though? "Nah! Well, only a  little" she said. Captain Klaas said that he even saw St. Elmo's fire, a ball of static electricity, on deck among our life rafts.

In sharp contrast though, today has been perfectly peachy. Sunny weather, steady, if weak wind. Far more relaxed. Quite fitting for a sailors Sunday. Captain Klaas wants more wind though, a force four breeze exactly.

Captain Klaas said that we sailed 115 miles yesterday, however, only 43 miles were in the right direction, since we had to wait for the right moment to cross into the Gulf Stream and put ourselves in a position to saddle the Northerly winds Captain Klaas is betting on carry us to Charleston in a faster fashion then the vessels more south of us who would have to make do with weaker southern winds. We are still second in our class, but dropped to eight overall. There is still another Northern cold front coming, similar to the one that brought this early morning's squall. So who knows what will happen yet.

Matthew Maples

I'm always happy

3:45 am: A friendly voice from the Red Watch woke us up for our 4-8 am shift. Drowsily we dressed and ascended the narrow staircase to the main deck. Our first duty for the morning was steering at the helm of the ship. The winds were still, and we were 100 degrees off the appropriated course, but the sky was clear and we felt as if we were seated inside an astrological observatory. Tired we began, but after witnessing shooting stars and discovering new constellations our early morning fatigue was forgotten.
5:00 am: White Watch sail tutorial. Coffees in hand, our group sat comfortably in the deck house as Annalies elaborated on our basic knowledge of sail handling on a square-rigged vessel.
6:00 am: Subtly the stars faded as the sun crept behind easterly clouds, turning the sky into a myriad of oranges, reds, pinks, and yellows. The ship rocked gently as we watched the sails luff; the motion of the sea gave us the sense that we were floating backwards. A seemingly eventless shift continued, ending with the usual breakfast consisting of delicious homemade bread, cereal, prociutto, cheese, and strawberry jam.
8:00 am: Our heavy heads hit the pillows in our dark, port-hole less cabin. And then a bell rang. Startled, we opened our eyes as the second bell sounded. And then the third. ALL hands were being called to the main deck, immediately. To our delight, we were not being called to man the lines but rather invited to take our first swim in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. We jumped overboard into the royal blue waters, and with the exception of having to avoid a few Portuguese mannawars, the swim was a success.
2:00 pm. Post-nap we ate lunch and prepared for our next shift. Severely contrasting the tranquillity of the early morning winds, we were sailing once again. The busy afternoon consisted of hauling, bracing, and coiling the lines, as we raced along at 8.2 knots.
7:00 pm. Stayci called us for supper, and we joined the rest of the crew on the main deck for a much appreciated meal. Before ice cream, the triple bell sounded. The news was good: we were wearing the ship in order to sail west, home towards Charleston.
9:00 pm. From the helm we watched the sun sink beneath the ever-present horizon, signalling the beginning of night time shifts. As we walked to the library to nap before our midnight watch, we asked Captain Klaas if he was happy that there was now so much wind. He replied, "I'm always happy."
Signed,
Trainees
Katie Phillips, Stephanie Harth, and Zoe Hanger
(The Charleston Girls)

 From all to zero. Yesterday was a beautiful day. Ten knots with our stun'sail gear and even when we took them down we were still doing 9 with freshening backstay breeze. That is we call racing, straight for Charleston. The helmsman where smiling form ear to ear. Unfortunately the wind has died on us. We're floating with a true half knot to..ah well. That is the beauty of sailing right? The tactics fly around the deck, if it was up to that discussion we did already 60 sixty tacks and we should consider a for and aft rig. No way!!

A big passing oil tanker wishes us the number one spot. When we turned on the deck lights we got a little applaud over the radio. We can already stick that one in the pocket.

From again a little closer to Charleston our best regards,

Marteyn Blok

"Fine, very much fine, I liked it". This modest comment did little to conceal the excitement of our youngest trainee, Zion Todd, after climbing aloft to the top of our rig to overhaul buntlines with me. 

Zion, age 15, is a student from Bermuda who came along with Europa to Charleston because he "needed something to do over summer". Zion has had the greatest improvement on the ship so far among trainees. For our first three days, Zion was sick, lolling about, looking quite ill from the seasickness. On day six we saw him overhauling bunts on the fore T'gallant sail - Our fourth highest sail of six. The bunt-lines are lines that haul up the foot off a sail, if too taut they ruin they prevent the sail from filling fully with wind, thus we put slack into them.

Zion and I both enjoyed the view from aloft and took a moment to enjoy it. On a sunny, day such as this, with small waves, being aloft is an absolute joy. It's the feeling of being able to see in every direction to the horizon, watching the people on deck moving about like small insects scurrying about. It feels like flying among white wings of canvas.

This is Zion's first time sailing. He got involved because the tall-ships advertised for trainees in his school. He has a friend currently sailing on the Russian Kruzhenstern. He said that for the first few days he was "asking myself why to do this torture". Zion is over his seasickness now, and says that he loves this sailing and will want to do it again. Maybe I will see him again on another adventure-bound wind-ship in the future.

Rain filled squalls filled our afternoon and evening with rain. All afternoon our highest square sails, staysails and flying jib were coming in and out with each passing squall. Coming in, in case of excess wind, and out again to regain our speed. The rain stopped immediately after my evening watch, and today has been nothing but sun and lovely wind. As the clouds cleared the moonless sky opened up. Many of the trainees, especially our look-outs, could not help but gaze skyward, for out in the ocean like this, with no light pollution, the sky lights up with astral phenomena that the majority of humanity can no longer see anymore. 

Several of them did not realize they could see the Milky Way galaxy until I pointed it out to them - much to their jaw dropping surprise! They thought it was a cloud as opposed to the millions of stars that constitute that horizon wide bridge of light. Indeed, there are many sights to see, this far from civilization that few people can lay claim to with their eyes.

Day five sees us about halfway to Charleston, 390 miles to go. We made 97 miles yesterday. Captain Klaas informed us today that we are second in our class, and third overall. We are climbing back up to the top! 

Interestingly enough, we are headed more north of Charleston, with nearly all the other ships to our south. Captain Klaas says the Europa is a slower type A tall ship then our competitors - the Uruaguay naval tall ship Capitan Miranda and the Romanian naval tall ship Mircea. Because "we are the underdog, we had to decide to do something totally different" said Captain Klaas. He is hedging his bets on heading northward, keeping to the east of the Gulf Stream, predicting that the wind will shift North-West - an ideal position to cross the Gulf Stream and give us a good wind to propel us, hopefully, ahead of our competition. Captain Klaas says that we are, right now, "waiting on some luck".

Matthew Maples
Voyage crew

Update on The Beautiful Chicken, and Stun'sls

June 18, 2009 - 1430 hours - 33.52.27'N x 70.38.39'W

Those stuns'sls did their job. We made a record today by making ten knots this morning - with stuns'sls and "without breaking anything" as Captain Klaas said. We took them down an hour ago as the wind increased to force four, and finally force five. We are making a solid 7 knots to the west. We made 113 miles yesterday and have about 430 miles left to go.

Belle Poule, the beautiful chicken, is nowhere to be seen. We were informed today by Captain Klaas that we beat out the USCG Eagle for the number two spot. Belle Poule fell back to number five in our class and eight overall.

Last night on my midnight to four watch we were still setting up stun'sls for the port side - a lot of hard work. As I came on watch again at noon I got to watch as the last stun'sl was brought in. With the increase in wind we can't keep them up without beginning to break things.

While I was on the helm with one of the trainees, Stephanie Harth, 22, she told me that she not only lived in Charleston, but lives a mere two blocks from where our ship will be docking. How awesome is that?

She is literally sailing to her home in style. She told me that sailing on Europa was the coolest thing she has ever done and is not excited to return to work and school in a few days. I suspect she may have developed the "sailing bug" that I got. For another girl, Nancy Miorelli, 19, this is her fourth time sailing on Europa. She has been sailing week-long trips on tall ships since age 14 on Bounty and Europa.

It is now 1550 hours and I have just checked our speed - 9.6 knots! We are catching up!

June 17, 2009 2120 hours - 34.02.256'N x 68.40.140'W
The beautiful sunrise this morning revealed to us a somewhat unwelcome surprise. A barely visible speck of sails on the horizon, gaining on us steadily throughout the day, it was the French navy's sail training vessel Belle Poule (Beautiful Chicken). Our early morning breeze gave way to faint whispers of wind, leaving our sails grasping for wind.

Our afternoon ship's meeting confirmed our suspicions; we had lost some standing in the race. We are now fifth overall, and third in our class, down from first. Captain Klaas explained to me that without a steady, stronger breeze, Europa will lose ground to other vessels better able to sail on shifting winds. These conditions probably helped Capitan Miranda to take our number one position in our class. Things are set to change however.

Captain Klaas says that a depression South-West of us will bring stronger Easterly winds. We have to be wary however, for a depression north of us is set to bring South-West winds - a less advantageous wind. The Gulf Stream current also promises to bring yet-unpredicted changes to our weather.

The Belle Poule was gaining all day, and the wind refused to give us the steady, stronger breeze that we wanted. Yet, we still had one card left to play - Stun'sls! Stun'sls, or Studding Sails as they are called, are large stretches of canvas that are attached to wooden booms as extensions to our normal suit of square sails. By throwing up more canvas we are better able to grab whatever wind we can. The crew says that we can gain another two knots by their addition.

As our last starboard-side stun'sl was hoisted aloft we could see that the Belle Poule was no more than a handful of miles away. As I type this the crew is busy preparing a second set of stun'sls for the port side of the foremast working well into the night. We intend to leave the "Beautiful Chicken" in our wake. Night has fallen, and hidden our competition, but tomorrow morning I shall take a good look at the horizon and see if our stun'sls kept us ahead overnight.

All trainees are now over their seasickness and everyone is able to get more involved in the operation of the ship. Yesterday afternoon saw the first "up and over's" for most of the trainees as they ascended the shrouds to the first platform. A moment of nervousness for most to climb up the mast and get past their unease of heights. Particularly on a moving ship! One trainee, Selange Gitschner, 27, from Bermuda could have hardly expected that later, in the dark night she would be asked to climb as high as the royal sail on the foremast to assist crew member Daniel.

She thought she would only be going as high as the first platform, near the lower topsail, but when Daniel kept going she followed and trusted his directions. She said her spirit of team effort gave her the will to go up because "You don't want to be selfish, you just do it." Overall, she says that it was a rush and that she would definitely do it again.

On a more somber note, we received word late yesterday that the Russian tall ship Kruzhenstern has dropped out of the race. Apparently something broke and the ship is now steaming for an American port for repairs. We wish the best for fellow Russian sailors and hope that no one was injured in whatever incident may have occurred. I personally hope to see them later in the tall ship's race as Kruzhenstern is a truly awe-inspiring vessel.

On a much more happier tone, I am pleased to report that we had cinnamon buns at our afternoon tea time, and chocolate mint mousse after dinner. Nice!

Matt

For everything there is a first time

This is most likely the way our trainees felt who came onboard in Bermuda. For the first time with big bags over the gangway, check out cabin etc. Maybe impressed by her magnitude but maybe also the confined cabin space (he?! no bathtub?).

The first goodbye when casting off the mooring lines and the last hand kiss. For me it is the first time as a mate. First time a welcome speech. Dealing with visa problems. Although I already knew, but now realise how much work it really is.

We are now been underway for more than 24 hours. And after a somewhat squally night we became first in our class (and this fits really well with this piece). This morning the wind came around, we changed course to starboard tack. We hope to keep our height and not to be pushed back to Bermuda because then it's not the first time anymore. We just want to be the first in Charleston.

From the Atlantic we wish you all the best and till the second time.

Marteyn Blok
1st mate

And we're off! Of canvas and hazings

I remember reading in the brochure that Europa was a ship that really sails.
They were not kidding. Captain Klaas and the Europa's hard-working crew clearly intend to make a good showing in the Bermuda to Charleston race, if not win it. Through the fickle weather of last night the skysails and flying jib were going out and coming back in, all canvas that can be set safely is done so, even if it can only stay up for only a few minutes.

The hard work of Captain Klaas, the Europa's crew and the enthusiastic efforts of the trainees is paying off. As of this afternoon we learned that Europa is first in her class in this race and fourth overall. We are doing rather well thus far. You can see the competitive spirit on almost everyone's face appear when we heard this news. We have the lead in our class and we won't give it up!

The beginning of the race yesterday was a truly majestic event. The ships paraded out of Bermuda amid all available fanfare - the cheers of the crowd, the noise and smoke of signal cannons, the bellowing of ships' horns contrasted sharply with teary-eyed goodbyes as shipmates parted ways before leaving port, leaving their ships at the last minute even as the gangplanks were being removed. On board Concordia a multitude of students hugged and bid farewell to one another, clearly unhappy to part ways with their ship and shipmates and wishing the best for one another. It was a very true display of the bonds of friendship that are created by the lifestyle, community and teamwork of the working ship, especially a ship that is putting all possible effort into the Tall Ships' Challenge Race.

The race began at 4p.m. off the coast of Bermuda. The great square riggers Micea (from Romania), the Eagle (United States Coast Guard), and the four-masted Russian barque Kruzehnstern built mountains of canvas, harnessed the wind and sped off. Kruzhenstern led the pack on the horizon as we sailed in company with the Mircea and Eagle well into the early evening before parting ways. We made a good clip keeping above seven knots into the evening.

Last night's squall and a weather front that came with it beat the ocean into a chop. Safety lines were rigged as the dozens of new trainees earned their sea legs. A night of seasickness for most gave them a bit of a hazing. They are all the better for it now though, the wind has calmed down, the seas have laid down, and after having been through worse almost everyone is feeling much better. As I type this they are learning to go aloft for the first time.

Captain Klaas informed up that we were 105 miles North-West of Bermuda. Good progress so far. Lets see what happens next.

MAtthew Maples
Voyage crew