Ready on the Braces

“Ready on the braces”, the mate shouted.

“Ready on the halyards”.

“Ready on the sheets”.

“Ready on the clews, bunts and reefs”.

“Has anyone let off the main course bowlines?”

Several pairs of eyes met around the deck.  “What?” the eyes all said.  The Deck Officer started chuckling, seeing the confused looks on our faces, before explaining in more detail what it was we were about to do, namely, set the square sails. We were all amateur sailors, and pretty well landlubbers. To most of us “braces” were things that hold trousers up;  “sheets” went on a bed; “reefs” were things to be scuba-dived on; “halyards” were something to do with a boat, but what, and “bunts” – well, that was anybody’s guess! “Clews” were what we didn’t have at the time, as the ship’s language was a world of its own!

This is what your first taste of sailing on the majestic HM Bark Endeavour Replica is like, and you continue to be bewildered for a few days until you start to settle into the routine of 18^th century, square-rig sailing.  With 29 kms of rope (or lines as they are called on a ship), all seemingly having a different name, purpose, and belaying point, there is lots to learn.  But at least we don’t get flogged for not knowing, as I’m sure many landlubbers who had been shanghaied in the old days would have.  And there IS a pattern to how and where the lines are belayed on the shrouds, so it starts to make some sense fairly quickly (helped by a cheat-sheet handbook with pictures!).

Whilst we were all enthusiastic and excited, there was a considerable amount of trepidation as well.  “Can I really climb those masts?” Thoughts and fears were shared among ourselves privately. Some were supremely confident, some were not so sure, and some were downright terrified.  I was in the latter category, and my fears were well founded as I froze about 30 feet off the deck at the first attempt of going aloft.  With lots of encouragement from my Captain O’Top and a little Dutch courage from the safety harness, I managed to struggle onward and upward, with much puffing and panting and muttering under my breath, and finally made it to the yardarm. The shrouds on 18^th Century ships were never designed for bottom-heavy middle-aged ladies to climb. What a sense of accomplishment once I got up there though, and working aloft has now become one of my favourite places. It’s quite an awesome feeling having seagulls flying underneath you when you’re furling the t’gallant sail.

The other really favourite place is on the helm, especially in the middle of the night, in the middle of the ocean.  With most of the ship below decks asleep, and the quiet that only the night can bring, I like to think it’s exactly how it would have been in Cook’s time, steering by the stars, watching the sails for any signs of luffing, and listening to the swish of the water against the hull. Sometimes in tropical waters like the South Pacific Ocean, the phosphorescence is absolutely magic to see, particularly if you get a pod of dolphins frolicking around in it, with “fairy dust” streaming off their dorsal fins as they leap out of the water.

Twenty plus years and many voyages around the world on various ships later, including bringing HM Bark Endeavour home to Australia from England which took almost 6 months, I finally got round to writing about my adventures and have written a book called, “Wind in My Wings” which covers lots of the adventures experienced during my times at sea (check out the website at www.windinmywings.com).

Fran Taylor