Passage: Whitehaven to Bristol

 

By land, this trip would have taken just under 5 hours, which of course for us was an overnight. It's also the only passage of this tour where we had (minor) problems due to ship handling. On our initial departure, we ultimately couldn't get out of the basin in Whitehaven due to cross winds and currents and the slow speed we had to maintain to navigate the docks -- we were really too big for that harbour! For a while it looked like we were going to be pushed sideways into a row of docked pleasure craft, and a local fishing boat that happened to be available, plus Diego in our trusty dinghy, saved the day with no damage except to our dignity. We ended up dockside again after an aborted attempt, analyzing what went wrong and how to approach it differently the next time, which would be at the next high tide. 

Next high tide, we got off without a hitch, and headed out to sea. 

This photo from a local photographer shows why we had such a dicey time leaving the basin -- that is one tight fit in the lock! Captain Miguel joked that he wanted to send this picture to the home office in Spain so they'd understand how tough it was, and ask for a raise. 

Once through the tight squeeze of the lock, Captain Miguel could relax a bit. We had an escort until we left the outer harbor.

Must be careful not to take this extraordinary opportunity for granted! (Just another day at the helm of a 50-meter, 500-ton, historic replica galleon.)

Had a variety of weather conditions at sea, from sun to grey; we've learned to expect this in England.

One thing I've never taken for granted is sunrise/sunset at sea. Always different, always wonderful.

Next time I looked, it was grey.

We came up a long river to get into Bristol, with a rather jovial harbor pilot who was full of stories. We fired our cannons as we passed a small river town where, he told us, many of his colleagues lived, to everyone's delight. We also had two bridges to pass under. One was quite tall and no issue, the other gave us a very narrow window of opportunity. We were too tall to pass at high tide, and the river wasn't deep enough for us to pass at low tide. The bridge, at our perfect timing, gave us 33 meters of clearance and our main mast was 31.5 meters tall. We had to send someone to the very top of the mast to lower the flag and pole before we tiptoed under. Thankful to have the pilot and his communication with the bridgetender for that one! The locals are quite proud of their bridges and absolutely loved that story; I told it multiple times to visitors each day I was working and it never failed to bring a smile. 

Finally we made it through a much roomier lock than the snug one we had leaving Whitehaven. As we came upriver into town, we passed a replica of the "Matthew," the ship John Cabot used to discover Newfoundland, motorsailing downriver.  It represents an era in history about 150 years before ours. We acknowledged each other, one tall ship replica to another. They rang their bell, we fired our cannon. We'd enjoy visits to each other's ships during the time we were in port. We docked, finally, just in time for a weekend maritime festival, a great way to kick off our week in what would ultimately become one of my top 3 favorite cities in England (the other two were Ramsgate and Falmouth).

Whitehaven -- Muncaster Castle (Part 2 of 2)

 Less than an hour's drive from where we docked, was Muncaster Castle, that had been lived in by the same family for 900 years, and the current family members were among the dignitaries that greeted us when we arrived. They used to be (lords? barons?) but the title was lost when an ancestor died without children and the castle and lands passed to the nearest relative (I don't understand the English peerage system, but that's the gist of it). They could have remained isolated in that spectacular location, but whether from a sense of civic duty or financial necessity, they've opened parts of the castle and grounds to the public, and invited our crew to come visit on our days off. The captain and senior staff went for the day and had lunch with the family; we weren't quite that lucky, but lucky enough. We split the cost for a taxi with another crew member who also had the day off, and after a somewhat hair-raising ride through the hills we arrived.

First sight of the castle in its spectacular Lake Country setting. Though the castle itself is "only" about 1000 years old, it is said to be built on the site of much older Roman ruins.

The mountain views made me homesick for Colorado

Wooded path through the grounds

The castle interior tour took us through many memorable halls and rooms, some said to be haunted, but all containing many interesting stories. There are medals and tapestries, and also an ancient glass bowl, that was given to the family in gratitude by a medieval king for some service they rendered. As long as the bowl remains unbroken, the charm says, the family will have good luck. You can still see the bowl, still intact, though now safely secured in a display case. 

On the grounds is a medieval weapons hall, where you can learn axe-throwing, crossbow, and long bow.

Staff member trained us individually on the correct stance

I was able to do pretty well, I'd say.

They also had a wild bird center for both education and rehab. They demonstrated free-flying owls and we learned a lot about these birds. People in the weapons hall weren't allowed to throw axes during bird demonstrations, because the bang of axes hitting (or missing) the targets could startle the birds. It wasn't all that close; so that indicates how sensitive their hearing must be.

The rangers had the birds fly across the audience right over our heads, close enough to ruffle our hair.

They flew five different species of owls that afternoon; and the rangers developed personal relationships with each of them. 

We walked about 2 km down the hill into town to catch a train back to the ship. If we'd had more time we could also have taken a small-gauge steam train deeper into the lake country, but we'd have to save that for another visit. The town had the impossibly Harry-Potter-ish name of "Ravenglass."

Whitehaven (Part 1 of 2)

 

Whitehaven was the kind of town where I'd expect the ship to do well. Medium-size and a little bit isolated, so we were a big story when we arrived and honestly there wasn't all that much else to do in a close radius. The town had a strong maritime history; it had once been the third-largest shipping port in the UK, with trade links all over the world, until ships grew so big that they'd no longer fit in its harbour, and went to Liverpool or Glasgow. It mined and exported coal, and imported tobacco and cane sugar and rum, and was involved in the triangle slave trade, until those things declined too. Here's a huge annotated photo dump from our time there.

The town crier welcomed us to Whitehaven. (Actually we had arrived in the dark of night; he, the town dignitaries, and the lord of a nearby castle, were part of our opening ceremony the next morning.

The text of his proclamation. He was also a great local tourguide and had many suggestions for us for spending our days off.

At the opening ceremony, one of several "gifts" the ship received was a bottle of rum, along with more traditional gifts representing the city, and a plaque for our collection.

I found it charming that they invited the police to join the photo of all the dignitaries at the opening ceremony.

Here's a rather somber story. Remember I said this town, Whitehaven, was important for coal mining. It fueled the Industrial Revolution. Here on the grounds of the old church is a monument to all the children who lost their lives in the mines. The youngest I saw was 8 years old; I commented on this  at the part of my own tour when I explain that the youngest crew members on our ship could have been 9 years old. Obviously child labour was a thing, back in the day. Most of the children on the monument date from the mid-1800s. There are names on all 4 sides of the monument, a lot of kids that didn't make it to adulthood.

Some more images from the church grounds. 

overview of church and gardens

Poppies, and memorial to world war soldiers

graves at the church where George Washington’s grandmother is buried — in some traditions you’re **supposed** to step on these gravestones by custom, something about shortening their time in purgatory, but I just can’t help it feeling disrespectful. While Dan was serving in Korea he attended a funeral where they literally danced on the grave, called the "happy mound." It tamped the grave and celebrated that the newly deceased was in a happier place. In the case of this church the stones had been falling over and crumbling so they were laid flat for preservation rather than superstition. 

Her actual gravestone isn't found in the church site, but there is a marker.

Some other pictures and stories from around town:

One particularly nice day we hiked to the headland behind the ship. This is the preserved entrance to one of the coal mines in the area, the site of one of the worst disasters in the area when a mine explosion cost many lives, sadly accepted as a necessary evil for their way of making a living back in those days.

There's a local museum, one of two that offered free visits to our crew, that told the story of rum and its linkage to the town.

The rum story museum acknowledged the role that slavery played in the town's historic prosperity. I was slightly startled at the boldness and humility of the admission -- and then reflected that the fact that I was startled by it said more about how appallingly bad the US is about reconciling that chapter in our own history.

Mosaics in the pavement depict images of town history.

In modern times there’s also iron mining nearby and a flooded drainage tunnel has brought dramatically stained water to the marina.

Some images of the ship at the dock in town by local photographers, our town crier (first photo; sorry I'm missing the name atm), Andreea Dragos (second and third photos) and Tom Kay (fourth and fifth photos). The sun this far north set so late that on work nights I was often in bed before the colours got soft like in photo #4.

There was an "international food festival" over the weekend. Tents offered Spanish, Greek, Portuguese, Middle Eastern food. Our favourite was the Gambian food, unexpectedly we ended up going back twice to that stall. One evening the crew forgot to make any vegetarian option for dinner, (and the food aboard hasn't been great so far this year anyway) so we delightedly asked for 1/2 hour leave to get something from the festival instead, and racewalked from the ship directly here.

The deeper into the row of kiosks we went, and the later it got, the more crowded it became

Looks like the Portuguese tarts were particularly popular

   

The proprietors of our favourite food stall.

Many cultures have some version of hot meat or vegetables wrapped in bread; I really loved the Cornish pasties we discovered last summer, and then there's Italian calzones, Indian samosas, Afghan bolanis, Latin American empanadas. In fact the very first time Dan was on a sailboat, we brought Chinese-style steamed buns stuffed with mushrooms and cashews for lunch, so in a sense that's the meal that started it all. I don't remember the name of this Gambian vegetarian delight, and probably couldn't pronounce it if I did, but we really appreciated the slight spiciness.

The Foundation that owns the ship is reluctant to use it for most filming, both for financial reasons and because we really don't want to be a fantasy pirate ship; our mission is education. They make exceptions for historical documentaries, and we've been in several over the years. While we were in Whitehaven we were the backdrop for a thoughtful piece, based on the true story of an English king (I never got straight which "Charles") by disguising himself as a poor man and fleeing on a ship. The film explored of who you are when you've lost your external identity. I can't wait to see the final version of this.

The cast getting some blocking directions before filming.

I really wanted to get a photo of the "nobility" from the movie, in our Zona Noble, but there wasn't time.

A secret Catholic Mass held in the cargo hold

The "commoners" posing in front of the ship. Note the very long shadows; filming started at 06:30 each morning.

We were, of course, primarily there to work. We had lots of school groups, which can be exhausting, because you're often on a very tight time frame and its tough to get excited kids to focus so you can actually teach them something. In general the English kids were a little less wild and more tightly controlled by their teachers and chaperones, so that helped. High point of my Saturday: a kid around 9 years old had been a student on one of my school tours the previous day and returned  with his family. He was **really** paying attention and I heard him explaining several of the ship’s features with impressive accuracy remembering what I had told him the day before (and amusingly, in some cases, using my exact wording). So I gave the family part of my extended tour, I talked about the jobs a 9 year old would have on the ship and his "career path" if he chose to become an officer, and the origins of such phrases as "learning the ropes," "pulling your weight," or being a "slacker." (I had the children demonstrate by "pulling" a section of the standing rigging and showing that their feet were off the ground and their entire weight was on the line) and again the kid soaked up every word. I could endure 10 people who just come aboard to take selfies if I get another kid like that one, where I know I’m making a difference.

The queue waiting to come aboard. We’re tremendously popular that particular day, with perfect sunny Saturday weather.

More rum, and more adventures around town:

Rum of a different brewery also gifted to the ship. Captain wasn't available for this one so the first officer accepted the gift. They did tell us that rum was inextricably linked with the history of the town, so, okay.

On a rainy afternoon on one of our days off we found this used bookstore. I love this kind of place, a labyrinth with surprises everywhere. I found the sequel to a charming book I'd had since I was young; I hadn't known a sequel existed. More books to carry home! 

The bookstore had copies of random funny typos pasted up on the shelves. I don't know what to make of this one, "Please keep your longings with you at all times." Obviously they mean "belongings" but you can make quite a philosophical case for the accidental message. Does it mean, if you're infatuated with your coworker keep it to yourself? Or maybe, don't give up your dreams, hold them close? Something else?  

As soon as they heard my accent, visitors to the ship joked about the time John Paul Jones came to town 23 April 1778; the only unfriendly American intrusion onto British soil. He and his men spiked the harbour's defensive cannons, rendering them useless, as this monument depicts. They further told us that he sent the men into town to get (something), but instead they got drunk and were unable to complete the mission.

One day off, we walked all over town. Tired and ready to head back to the ship, Dan realized he'd lost his favourite hat somewhere along the way. We retraced all of our (many) steps and finally found it here, at almost the very last place on our circuit. Someone had kindly picked it up from the ground where it had fallen and hung it on the stanchion of this restaurant -- I'm not sure that would have happened at home. We would have gone in for a celebratory drink but they were closed.

And yet another bottle of rum gifted to the ship -- did everyone have the same idea? I really liked this particular pub and we would have come more often, but the local drunk seemed to have gotten fixated with us. The first time we met her, she complained about being stupid and how bad her life was, well, okay, sometimes that's what drunks do. But after that, she decided she was our "friend." Every place she saw us in town after that she'd plonk down to join us and complain about her effing life. It was ... weird. Meanwhile, Sean, the bar owner who gave us the bottle, asked us for pictures of it in our next few ports. I delightedly complied, and emailed him pictures from the next 3 or 4 places until finally emailing a picture of the captain holding it. 

All in all, just as I'd hoped, Whitehaven had been a great stop for the ship. Weather is kept us there a couple of extra days. It was unusually warm and sunny over the weekend (we joked to the visitors that we’d brought our Spanish weather with us) but then it went back to cool and rainy Cumbria normal.