Maine Diaries: Thoughts of home
Here we float rocking 20 degrees or more from side to
side in no more then a five-foot swell--I’m convinced
the deck department doesn’t believe in ballasting a
boat—and thinking about when we will return home and
what we will be doing when we get there.
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Tall Ships: To be or not to be
Maine Diaries: From palm trees to icebergs
I am huddled on the 04 observation deck wearing a
sweatshirt and jacket, and fighting a 30 degree wind
chill. I look across the fogged-in ocean at an
iceberg the size of a small condo, and think of how
lucky we are to be on a Caribbean cruise this
year. Read
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Maine Diaries: Troubled waters
We sit here, 1200 miles from land, riding this large
steel beast that we call a ship across a torrent of
cresting waves and green water. Anyone calling for
the excitement of a good storm, in my mind, clearly
has not spent any great deal of time on the water or
they would know high seas, wind, and rain on any ship
is a pretty poor time. And, quite frankly, I have no
interest in seeing what other people had for
breakfast strewn across the side of our ship.
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Maine Diaries: True calling
Last night as I lay on the aft deck, the true beauty
of a calm night at sea struck me as never before. Not
a breath of wind blew last night as the boat rolled
and heeled with the long ocean swells, probably from
some far off storm we should never see. The sky
glowed and for the first time in more than a month I
felt a striking realization that this is really what
I am supposed to do.
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Maine Diaries: An engine in doubt
We have reached the halfway point here on our little
journey, and suffice it to say we are all pretty
tired. With one port down, we have 15 days at sea
this coming month with 9 port days and two holidays.
And the state in which we find our engine room is
frightening as once again we battle a mechanical
difficulty and attempt to baby our engine in hopes of
making it back to Maine without a need for a very
long and costly tow home. Read
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Maine Diaries: Some trouble in paradise
San Juan, the land god, and the land of homes and
dreams for any weary traveler or a boatload of
sailors with money to burn on expensive booze. And
with the taxi services over-charging anyone seeking a
cheap ride to the beach and with beer costing $4 and
up, we managed to squeeze every dollar we had to
enjoy the most out of San Juan and even more out of
the bars that seemed to beckon all of us for just one
more drink before the boat. Read
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