By Skipper Krystal:
Coordinates: 39.3210° N, 111.0937° W, 37.3382° N, 121.8863° W, 47.6062° N, 122.3321° W
Don't worry about the world ending today. It's already tomorrow in Fiji.
- Daria Blackwell
30,000 feet of air, a little metal and some plastic are all that are between me and the Great Salt Lake right now as the nose of the plane is turning west into a streaky rose-gray sunset. Second Mate Jack and I, Skipper Krystal, are headed to Seattle to meet the Northern Star!
However, the trip north is a little windy this time (and a little turbulent at the moment). We’re climbing into a cloud bank now, and I can’t help but ponder why anyone would think it is efficient to send us clear to California before getting around to Seattle. So San Jose here we come (hence some added Californian coordinates at the top). Still, whenever I fly I think to myself “passengers on an airplane who spend their time grumbling about the size of the packet of peanuts while they are soaring through the air, far above the clouds—something ancient kings would have given all they possessed to try and experience just once!" Thank you President Uchtdorf. It makes takeoff a little more magical every time. :)
We’re meeting Captain Gary and First Mate Kris (Dad and Mom, respectively) who left at 3:00 AM this morning on their own arduous trek through the friendly skies. I assume they’re still crashed in the hotel. But the important thing is, as much of the crew as we can muster are headed north (somehow or another) and this is a very important week!
See, we have to outfit the Northern Star before we can take her north. Hard tack and gruel in the 1800s might have sufficed, but we’ve gone soft in the last hundred years or so, and we’ve got to know where to stuff the crackers and the can opener and the towels and the all-important toilet paper (seriously, important). Plus we need a boat on the back—a dinghy, for the layman—to take into shore when we anchor. Gotta find the right dinghy and a motor. Dad’s looking into some with metal bottoms, so it doesn’t puncture on rocky, black Alaskan shore and we don’t plunge into the Pacific (with all our stuff).
Plus, we learn to sail her this week!
Still, preparing for the trip—packing everything and cooking and cleaning and packing and cooking some more was intense and exhausting and on the drive out I had an army-green duffle stuffed against one shoulder and a blue-and-white cooler jammed under one elbow.
Jack’s playing a game matching fruit that smile and bounce at you, and seems quite happy with himself. Wow, three stars on that level. Go Jack. Anyway, a little rougher turbulence. We’ll come into Seattle at 1:00 AM Seattle time, so going to be pretty tired. Glad I’m not sailing through icebergs tonight.
P.S. Icebergs: one more reason to have a spare dinghy around. Just a tip. ;)
P.P.S. Just looked out the window. There’s just one bright star over the fading sunset—darkest blue to light, light gold. Fitting, isn’t it?
Northern Star
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
The Northern Star is Found!
By Skipper Krystal:
Coordinates:39.3210° N, 111.0937° W, 47.6062° N, 122.3321° W
I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky.
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.- John Masefield
"Leo announces spring," goes an old saying. Well, in the time it took the constellation Leo to start its annual February trek away from the horizon higher into the sky, a certain Freedom Won was being toured, debated (a great, GREAT deal of debate) and at last bought. Now it is the Northern Star-officially, actually. The paper came today, all important-like in the mail.
How did this happen? Well, rewind to the end of the Seattle boat show. Remember the cagey reference to that first boat that was over budget and the bees knees? Well, we found no equal to it, vintage wooden wheel and all. Jack and I, Skipper Krystal, were forced to go home because of, like, responsibilities. But Mom and Dad stayed to the bitter, salty end and by the 10th day, came home from the Seattle boat show with an offer for the ship sitting on the brokers desk, for considerably below asking price.
So they signed first thing, no negotiations, and we sailed off into the sunset! Right?
Right?
Nah. You wouldn't believe the amount of stress, time, and water under the bridge it takes to see Northern Star at the top of the title. Once everyone above and belowdecks is sure you're serious, you haul all 42' of the boat out of the water, with a crane like six times as tall as a grown person! Then if you're smart you have the engine looked over. Luckily for us, nothing needed fixed, so smooth sailing! Right?
Wrong. The transmission was all but radioactive with lead and copper and nastiness, and everyone who didn't want the job said it would take days and days and 3000 dollars to haul out and fix. The ones who did want the job gave it a two days, and still made sure we knew that thing was really, really heavy and a big, big pain.
So that meant negotiating the price some more. From this we learned some Canadians like to count their pennies ten times over before giving you a dime. (Love you Canada! Love you.) I am glad the fellow is headed to the Caribbean after this. It was the Caribbean or a prescription of sedatives and Prozac to save his mental health.
Lucky for us, we got the Northern Star out of this instead and are very much looking forward to unwinding with her, starting a stress-free sailing life, cruising into the sunset. Right? Please?
Well, maybe. Turns out, How to Be A Sailor in Ten Days or Less turned into We Know Even Less Than We Thought We Did. We learned there were a lot of good books we HAD to buy (We're looking at you Waggoner's Cruising Guide) but luckily we made some good friends too, like the co-author of Waggoner's Guide, Mark. So we got the skinny on a good sea captain that would be willing to take a few hopeful Utahns out on our boat (feels good to say it, yikes) so we're sure not to crash into Victoria Island on our way to Alaska.
Which means Jack and I and the Captain and First Mate are headed back to Seattle in a few weeks to get reacquainted with the Northern Star in all her glory. We'll try to remember all the stuff we've learned, and whatever you do, don't call ropes ropes, they're lines. Captains are likely to keel-haul you over a mistake like that.
See? We did learn something.
P.S. I found out Asterias means sea star in Latin. I think I'm going to name the rowboat in the Northern Star bath tub that.
Coordinates:39.3210° N, 111.0937° W, 47.6062° N, 122.3321° W
I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky.
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.- John Masefield
"Leo announces spring," goes an old saying. Well, in the time it took the constellation Leo to start its annual February trek away from the horizon higher into the sky, a certain Freedom Won was being toured, debated (a great, GREAT deal of debate) and at last bought. Now it is the Northern Star-officially, actually. The paper came today, all important-like in the mail.
How did this happen? Well, rewind to the end of the Seattle boat show. Remember the cagey reference to that first boat that was over budget and the bees knees? Well, we found no equal to it, vintage wooden wheel and all. Jack and I, Skipper Krystal, were forced to go home because of, like, responsibilities. But Mom and Dad stayed to the bitter, salty end and by the 10th day, came home from the Seattle boat show with an offer for the ship sitting on the brokers desk, for considerably below asking price.
So they signed first thing, no negotiations, and we sailed off into the sunset! Right?
Right?
Nah. You wouldn't believe the amount of stress, time, and water under the bridge it takes to see Northern Star at the top of the title. Once everyone above and belowdecks is sure you're serious, you haul all 42' of the boat out of the water, with a crane like six times as tall as a grown person! Then if you're smart you have the engine looked over. Luckily for us, nothing needed fixed, so smooth sailing! Right?
Wrong. The transmission was all but radioactive with lead and copper and nastiness, and everyone who didn't want the job said it would take days and days and 3000 dollars to haul out and fix. The ones who did want the job gave it a two days, and still made sure we knew that thing was really, really heavy and a big, big pain.
So that meant negotiating the price some more. From this we learned some Canadians like to count their pennies ten times over before giving you a dime. (Love you Canada! Love you.) I am glad the fellow is headed to the Caribbean after this. It was the Caribbean or a prescription of sedatives and Prozac to save his mental health.
Lucky for us, we got the Northern Star out of this instead and are very much looking forward to unwinding with her, starting a stress-free sailing life, cruising into the sunset. Right? Please?
Well, maybe. Turns out, How to Be A Sailor in Ten Days or Less turned into We Know Even Less Than We Thought We Did. We learned there were a lot of good books we HAD to buy (We're looking at you Waggoner's Cruising Guide) but luckily we made some good friends too, like the co-author of Waggoner's Guide, Mark. So we got the skinny on a good sea captain that would be willing to take a few hopeful Utahns out on our boat (feels good to say it, yikes) so we're sure not to crash into Victoria Island on our way to Alaska.
Which means Jack and I and the Captain and First Mate are headed back to Seattle in a few weeks to get reacquainted with the Northern Star in all her glory. We'll try to remember all the stuff we've learned, and whatever you do, don't call ropes ropes, they're lines. Captains are likely to keel-haul you over a mistake like that.
See? We did learn something.
P.S. I found out Asterias means sea star in Latin. I think I'm going to name the rowboat in the Northern Star bath tub that.
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