Safe and Secure in Lunenburg, Thanks to Adams & Knickle

Pride of Baltimore II arriving in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, June 11, 2019, courtesy of Out the Gate Sailing

Photo: Arriving in Lunenburg, June 11, 2019, courtesy of Out the Gate Sailing

Date: Tuesday, June 11, 2019
Time: 1600 ADT (local Lunenburg time)
Position: Moored at Adams & Knickle Ltd. piers, Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, Canada

Sailed all the way across the Gulf of Maine with all of Pride’s reaching sail set (main, main-gaff-topsail, foresail, fore-staysail, jib, jib-topsail, square-foretopsail, square-topgallant-sail, and studding-sail). Speed ranged from 6 to 8 knots with a touch of 9 knots a couple of times using southwesterly wind of 10 to 15 knots. Sailed 24 hours from noon Sunday to noon Monday, crossing 172 nautical miles — smooth sea; steady angle of heel of around 5 degrees; a very sedate sail; very relaxing; no sails needing adjusting; only steer and monitor progress, and check the ship hourly.

From noon Monday, near Cape Sable, to Tuesday morning, motored to Lunenburg. Hardly a breath of wind. Maybe a little bit of southeasterly at 5 knots or less. After striking the studding-sail, square-topgallant-sail, and square-fore-topsail near Cape Sable, left the other sails up for the motoring to Lunenburg. Sometimes they assisted. More often they hung quietly with a smooth sea. Reset the square-fore-topsail for the entry into Lunenburg Harbor. No real sailing. Just a pretty picture with a couple of cannon salutes. Then an orderly taking of sail before mooring up at Adams & Knickle.

Customs clearance was done by email, largely because staff at Pride, Inc. were diligent and timely with emailed paperwork well in advance of actual arrival. A very friendly welcome from our friends with Picton Castle. A horn salute and a so-long wave from Bluenose II, because she departed for Halifax soon after our arrival. We will see her again Saturday. The plan is for all three vessels to depart Lunenburg on Saturday together. All three are going to be participating in the TALL SHIPS CHALLENGE® Great Lakes 2019, a series of festivals and races in the Great Lakes coordinated by Tall Ships America. All three vessels departing together ought to be an interesting site for Lunenburg!

Now that all the formalities with authorities are handled and welcomes accomplished, the rest of this day is spent on ship maintenance and other chores, such as laundry. Local knowledge assistance and a bit of local errand assistance from Picton Castle makes for great efficiency.

For those interested in learning more about the dock Pride is using here in Lunenburg, search Wikipedia for “Adams & Knickle”. Pride has moored here before. They have been very accommodating to Pride and other visiting tall ships needing to meet Canadian maritime security regulations. Adams & Knickle is a fishing company with piers and facilities that meet national maritime security regulations. Pride is required to moor at secured marine mooring facilities — meaning gated, fenced and monitored around the clock — when visiting Canada. All for protection from possible terrorism goals. Adams & Knickle’s owner has long been generous with support for visiting tall ships requiring secure mooring facilities. And so, Pride is again welcomed by Adams & Knickle. We very much appreciate this very significant thoughtfulness! A company started in 1897. Check them out.

Captain Jan C. Miles

Gunkholing Maine

Tuesday, 7 August, 2012  /  Pride of Baltimore II

Pos: At Anchor off Portland, Maine’s East End  /  Wx: SE F 3, 3/8 Ci, Pleasant

With scarcely 24 hours at the dock, Pride of Baltimore II was back from her Nova Scotian foray, cleared into U.S. Customs and off on a five-day cruise along the Maine Coast. With no particular destination and the only directive being to sail, we approached the trip in the storied local tradition of “Windjamming.” Originally referring to the last all-sail cargo ships of the early 19th Century, the term now applies to the fleet of vessels in the Penobscot Bay region of Maine which carry passengers on scenic adventures to spectacularly beautiful places. Largely unequipped with engines, the schooners on these trips typically sail through the day and find a quiet anchorage for the night.

And so, for this trip, would Pride II, though in Maryland and other parts south, this practice is also called, “gunkholing.” Admittedly a horribly unattractive term for anchoring in serene and tranquil places, it is descriptive – a good, solidly protected anchorage is often referred to as a hole (as in hiding hole, swimming hole, hurricane hole) and the best holding ground known to sailors is thick, oozy mud, or “gunk.”

 Maine being, well, Maine, our cruise got off to a slow start with Portland Harbor socked in fog. But by early afternoon, we could see some of the alleged 365 “Calendar Islands” of Casco Bay and got underway. Setting sail in front of downtown Portland for increased visibility, we were accompanied out of the harbor by the classic Alden schooner Wendameen. Owned and operated as a day-sailer by Portland Schooner Company, Wendameen is a fine sailing yacht-style vessel and one of my commands previous to Pride II. In the hands of Captain Troy Scott, she was besting Pride II in the protected reaches around Peaks, Cushing and House Islands, but her lighter displacement had us break away from her once we reached the exposed channel. We saluted with a single gun; she honked in reply and tacked back in to finish her day sail as we sailed off into a re-thickening fog to anchor between Ministerial and Stave Islands.

A breathless and foggy morning followed our first anchorage, and we motored out of Casco Bay, passing close abeam of Eagle Island, a Maine State Historic Site and formerly the retirement home of Admiral Robert Peary of Polar Exploration Fame. With plans to return later in the week, we carried on toward Penobscot Bay, the foggy conditions giving relevance to a lesson on Deduced Reckoning Navigation until the breeze came up southwesterly and cleared fog. With a downwind run ahead, we impersonated a sloop for the day and set everything but the stuns’l on the foremast, but kept the main and gaff top in their furls, sailing past Monhegan Island and on to anchor in Tenants Harbor.

Saturday, we made Rockland. Ironically, this typical “starting out point” for many of the modern Windjammers, was the farthest afield for us. With good friends and former shipmates around, we were treated to the luxury of a dock at the relatively new “Windjammer” wharf, and nestled in between the schooners Steven Taber and Nathaniel Bowditch. Also sharing this dock was the gorgeous Tancook Whaler Vernon Langille, whose sleek double ended hull, while at home in Penobscot Bay, originated in Mahone Bay, Nova Scotia, between Halifax and Lunenburg.

With a night ashore and a few hours of waiting for the tide, we set off again in, naturally, thick fog, motoring back past Tenants Harbor without ever seeing it, and setting sail just past the horribly named Mosquito Island. Carrying on through fog, the breeze built steadily and soon Pride II was her usual self, skimming along at seven knots. But the breeze was southerly, forecast to build to near gale strength and carry with it a fathom or so of sea. With the toothy rocks of Maine’s coast looming hungry under our lee, every tenth of a knot increase was heartily welcomed. The building breeze scattered the fog, and soon we were up to eight knots. From Monhegan to Seguin Island we carried four lowers and the foretops’l, topping nine knots with regularity, soaking the lee channels, pressing on to make the “corner” and get the wind behind the beam at Seguin.

But it was too much. We wrestled the foretops’l down and walking the deck stopped being a tactical maneuver. But the western horizon sprung up black, and the wind shifted west-southwest, so we brought down the main and jib as well, all hard-fought sail handling as we had no room to fall off and make the job easier. To get us out of the exposed waters, we put engines on line and motor-sailed toward shelter inside Casco Bay. And as if we’d actually sailed through a doorway into another weather world, Pride II was now somehow protected from the whirl and churn beyond the small barriers of Broken Cove, West Brown Cow, and Mink Rocks. Eagle Island lay off to starboard, but our plans of exploration were mere fantasy in this weather.

Sheltered by Great Chebeague Island for the night, we feasted on lobster bought for the crew by volunteer historian Pierre Henkart, then sailed off the hook in moderate and sunny weather for our final day, sailing leisurely through Casco Bay and grandstanding into Portland to end our “Windjammer” cruise Pride II-style – with four guns and flurry of taking in sail.

All best,

Captain Jamie Trost and the Windjamming crew of Pride of Baltimore II

"Farewell to (Tall Ships) Nova Scotia," Two Quaint and Totally Different Towns, and Chasseur – Pride II's Pride and Joy

Tuesday, 31 July, 2012
Pos: 43 21.2’N X 066 42.1’W
Wx: WSW F 2, Seas 1′, Fog
Pride of Baltimore II Motor-Sailing under Mains’l, Gaff Tops’l and Stays’l at 6 knots.

After nearly two weeks in the cold waters and warm hospitality of Nova Scotia, Pride of Baltimore II is bound for Maine and the USA. Since our fully-packed stay in Halifax, and our action-packed passage from the Nova Scotian Capital, the pace took a decidedly more relaxing turn in the Southwestern shore towns of Lunenburg and Shelburne. But our hosts stayed just as welcoming and the visitors to the ship just as excited. Open to the public for two days in both places, Pride II saw more visitors than the total population in each town – 4422 in Lunenburg and 2888 in Shelburne! And while both towns could safely and accurately be described as “quaint,” they are about as different as can be.  

Steeped in the history of Loyalists to the crown fleeing a fledgling America for still British Canada, Shelburne has an almost English feel to it. And the flotilla of private vessels who welcomed Pride II in on Friday afternoon illustrated that they temper their ardent preservation of history with performance modern sailing. A good fit for Pride II. On arrival, the local Longboat Society, who maintain and drill with a pair of 27′ replica Bounty-style longboats, hosted a reception aboard in full 18th Century attire. With the rest of the fleet delayed by weather and Pride II there alone, they Society regaled us with the history of their town, featuring seven generations of the Cox family building fishing vessels, from schooners to dories to power-driven boats. The buildings of the Cox shipyard are all a museum now, immaculately preserved and giving the town an almost movie set quality along the waterfront. Dozens of people in traditional costume or pirate garb frequently firing off replica weapons only added to the picture.

Though small, Shelburne was certainly cozy and welcoming, from the initial flotilla to the sparse crowd on the dock to see our departure. Once off the dock, we shut down straight away, set the foretops’l and fired port guns in salute, then ran down the harbor on a Northeast breeze. The harbor itself seemed loath to let us leave, presenting us with a Southerly just before we cleared the outer reaches, and forcing us to short tack our way out beyond the rocky headlands. But it is, in fact, “Farewell to Nova Scotia” for us. 

But let’s not forget about the middle port in our Canadian foray – Lunenburg, a fishing town with an active working waterfront full of trawlers and draggers, all against a museum-like backdrop of Victorian houses and traditional ships. Homeport to Canada’s iconic schooner Bluenose II (currently being rebuilt), she is also the home of the Fisheries Museum of the Atlantic. The museum has excellent exhibits and historic ships, but the thing it truly captures is the spirit of the town’s seagoing history. And modern day adventurers can hail at the offices for the world-ranging barque Picton Castle, a ship whose exotic voyaging, international crew and preservation of traditional seamanship perpetuate Lunenburg’s connection to the sea.

The sea is truly in the blood there – against a background of seven tall ships, the mooring field south of the waterfront was littered with local traditional small craft. On Wednesday night they were all underway for racing or fun, and Pride II’s crew was even invited to borrow a dory schooner appropriately named Miscreant. Post sailing, racing or not, all hands are called to the Malagash Harbor Yacht Club for burgers and beers.

Perhaps the most perfect yacht club in all the world, the Malagash’s Clubhouse consists of two rafts pinned together – one with a small shack and one with a barbeque grill – on a mooring in the harbor. Membership is granted on arrival, the dress code encourages shorts and bare feet, and access is only by boat. Looking around at a fleet of twenty or so traditional craft rafted up to the “club,” I found myself thinking a person could say they were raised “Lunenburg” in the same way they might say they were raised Catholic, or Jewish, or Presbyterian. Seafaring is not a pastime in Lunenburg, it is a cultural imperative.

And among those rafted boats was Pride II’s own Chasseur. Named with an historic nod to Thomas Boyle’s famous privateer, and often called “the world’s most expensive deck-box,” Chasseur has certainly been a bit underutilized in her life. The crew is too busy, the schedule too tight, the water too murky to risk a scum line on her white hull. All these, while often true, have kept Chasseur from being used to expand the seamanship of many Pride II sailors. After all, much of what a sailor needs to know can be best learned in a small, open boat.

But Nova Scotia saw a rebirth of Chasseur. Rigged “on the hip” at our Halifax dock in order to help clear some deck space for the relatively steep gangway, she tempted more than a few crew, myself included, to take her out. So in she went, and after a night of swelling, I bailed her quick and took her for a row around George’s Island as a morning work-out. Small enough to be single-handed, yet spacious enough to hold six, she’s been rowed and sailed more in the last week than she has in my four and more years with Pride II. Both the boat and the crew are happier for it. She’s been used for R&R, physical fitness, crew training and development, and even as transportation when we showed up in style to Shelburne’s waterfront crew party.

It’s good to show her off. Her full, buoyant lap-straked hull in sharp contrast to the hard-chined and flat bottomed dories of Nova Scotia, she is pleasing to both the sailor and the on-looker. Both her hull and her cotton sail are older than all our deckhands, yet she sails with all the life and joy of a laughing child.

After half a dozen rows in her, I finally took her for a sail Sunday afternoon, in a moderate Nor’easter and a light rain. Partly out of curiosity, and partly to settle a debate with Bosun Elizabeth Foretek, I forewent the rudder and tiller, maneuvering Chasseur only by sail trim and shifting weight. Those of you skeptical as to the existence of magic should try this. Constantly adjusting her trim, often standing up with the sheet in hand and the feel of her progress under my feet through her sole boards; she demanded to be sailed like a windsurfer or a planing dingy. For steering she responded to a foot placed forward or aft, a step to leeward or by hiking out with my feet tucked under a thwart in the gusts, keeping her flat to keep her from rounding up. Then the challenge of tacking – ducking to leeward and nearly diving for the bow, standing up in front of the mast and pushing her lee rail almost under water with my foot, then scampering over thwarts to the stern sheets so her head would pay off onto the next tack. Some might say physics, but in the misty rain of Shelburne Harbor, it felt like magic.

She requires constant tinkering, just like her “mother ship” Pride II. So, good for the crew to be out and tinkering, practicing the finer details of the craft we focus so intently on aboard the schooner herself. And fitting, as we enter the thick of the War of 1812 Bicentennial, that Chasseur should be so reborn, and once again teaching us all a thing or two about real sailing.

All best,

Captain Jamie Trost and the “States” bound crew of Pride of Baltimore II (and Chasseur)

 

Hats off to Halifax, Eagle Steals our Broom, Tattooed at the Citadel and What we do “When No One’s Looking."

25 July 2012
Pos: Alongside the Fisheries Museum of the Atlantic, Lunenburg Nova Scotia
Wx: North Force 1, 5/8 Stratus

After an adventurous sail to windward along the Nova Scotian coast, Pride of Baltimore II is snug in the quintessentially Canadian Maritime Seaport of Lunenburg. Arriving in town along with tops’l schooners Lynx, Unicorn and Amistad we joined Larinda, Providence and Roseway for the second port of Tall Ships Nova Scotia.

Known around the fleet for its hospitality, Lunenburg follows hot on the heels of a splendid stay in bustling Halifax. From our grandstanding arrival on Tuesday, through the spectacle of an opening ceremony highlighted with as much Navy Brass as any OpSail occasion, to impressive crew events at the imposing Citadel, Halifax hosted us well. We hope the 8,900 visitors to Pride II feel we returned the favor.

As final destination in the Tall Ships Challenge series, Halifax hosted the awards ceremony for races three and four. Pride II was first again for the “Etch-a-Sketch” event of Race Three, but the US Coast Guard Barque Eagle edged us out in the “Sprint to Halifax.” As a time-trial, this fourth race was based on the corrected average speeds of the vessels over an eight-hour period. Eagle’s was .24 knots faster than Pride II’s. With our own uncorrected average being 10.23 knots, there isn’t much we could have done to push Pride II harder, but Eagle’s strategy was to wait for the breeze to build before starting their run. So no broom for a clean sweep of the series by Pride II – well done and well raced, Eagle!

Also, well done to all regiments and bands who performed the 1812 Military Tattoo at Halifax’s Citadel on Sunday night. A tour de force of fifes, drums, bagpipes and historic weapons demonstrations celebrated Canada’s rich history and highlighted the 198 years of peace and friendship between our nations. Stealing the show were the 78th Highlanders, who Pride II had the pleasure of hosting for a reception earlier in the weekend. Following their example, we did our best to close out Monday’s Parade of Sail in style as we brought up the rear of 21 ship procession around Halifax Harbour.

Not that putting on a show is new territory for Pride II. For 24 years, we’ve been striving not just to impress dockside visitors with the sleek beauty of the ship, but to inspire and awe on-lookers from shore by highlighting the characteristic nimble elegance of the Baltimore Privateers she so thoroughly represents.

Our arrival and departure from Halifax are prime examples – outbound, we carried easy sail to stay at the required parade speed of five knots until we made the final run along the downtown waterfront and cracked on the mains’l and jib to charge out to sea. But on arrival day, with the Harbour mostly to ourselves, we barreled in under all plain sail, made a few passes by downtown at seven knots, then in a barrage of four guns took in sail and rounded up close enough to our wharf to pass lines.

We hoped to impress, and the gathered crowd on the pier seemed to confirm it. In fact, one onlooker even said “Good show. But what do you guys do when no one’s looking, you still use the sails?”

The only answer I could give was this: “When no one’s looking? That’s when we do all the REALLY cool stuff.”

Sounds glib, but it’s true. Our extended experiment in live action nautical archeology is on-going. Thrashing our way out of Halifax, we noticed a slight tear in the lower section of our fores’l, so we reefed it to contain the damaged portion and sailed on, beating our way out to sea as if it were 1812, and at the end of the day, sailing on the anchor at 23:45 in Rose Bay, eight miles from Lunenburg. Too bad that no one could see us, because handling 8000 square feet of sail in the pitch dark and rounding up safely to drop the hook someplace we’d never seen before was a particularly handy piece of seamanship by the crew.

All best,
Captain Jamie Trost and the smart sailing Crew of Pride of Baltimore II

Reaching for New England

29 September, 2011
Pos: 42 55.2’N x 067 46.0’W
Wx: SxW F5, Seas 3-5′ Overcast

Pride of Baltimore II left Lunenburg yesterday morning after a few great days of revelry with the crews of two great schooners and one outstanding barque. From the time we secured and cleared back into customs on Sunday night, there was a sense of excitement along the Lunenburg waterfront – already a-thrum with commercial fishing fleets, a pair of twin cruising schooners under construction, Picton Castle’s Bosun School in session and the Canadian Icon Bluenose II being refit. With Lynx, Highlander Sea and Pride II added to the mix, you could scarcely turn around without seeing a postcard worthy shot.

To celebrate the good fortune of having a hefty gathering of schooners in town, Captain Dan Mooreland, the talented staff of Windward Isles trading company, and the eager crew of Picton Castle hosted all us visiting Americans to a barbeque on Monday night. This was the single biggest gathering of sailors outside a Tall Ships event I’ve seen in quite awhile, and a great time for all. Many thanks to Captain Mooreland and all the Picton folks for all their hospitality.

Our unexpected and welcome stop, however, had to end. Wednesday morning greeted us with a chill more characteristic of Autumn in Nova Scotia, and we needed make tracks for the US before the wind also turned a more characteristic Southwesterly. Lynx and Highlander Sea had made great show in their departures by sailing off the dock – Lynxeven backed off the dock using her foretops’l – and so there was little choice but to follow suit.

Being rafted to Picton Castle, even with her yards braced up and her davits swung in, presented particular a particular challenge to sailing off. But fortunately, we were able to send an offshore line across the slip to government wharf. The crew pulled Pride II away from Picton Castle by hand, set the stays’l, and then hoisted the foretops’l to the chant of “Thank you Picton!” and we were away. But we weren’t totally gone until we saluted Lunenburg with a proper four guns.

That was yesterday morning at 1000 ADT. Pride II has been sailing since, sometimes slowly, but for the middle part of today, the increasing Southeasterly going Southerly had us holding 12 knots fairly often. But it isn’t just sailing for fun. The wind, as forecast, has already veering and there is little hope of making a landfall anywhere South of Portland, Maine without going into the teeth of a strong breeze. So we’re driving Pride II for all she’s worth toward New England.

All best,
Captain Jamie Trost and the steep heeling crew of Pride of Baltimore II

Diverting for. . . Weather?

Position: Rafted Alongside the Barque Picton Castle, Lunenburg, Nova Scotia
Wx: W F 1, Clear, Way too warm to be Nova Scotia
September 26, 2011

Sunday, September 25 was a glorious day for weather, schooners and sailing camaraderie. After alternately sailing and motoring in nearly clockwork fashion of 12 hour stretches through fog, light air and misty rain, since locking through the Straight of Canso Friday night with her sister privateer Lynx, Pride of Baltimore II was suddenly bathed in sunlight and the weather was down right hot. A southwest breeze filled in at 0800, we secured engines and re-set the jibs, fores’l and foretops’l, which had all be taken in for motoring the night before.

On the horizon was Lynx, who had made better progress by using a bit more petroleum on Saturday. We set the t’gallant, closed with them and spent an hour tacking and wareing around each other just off the mouth of Lunenburg Bay, showing off for the few folks around in small boats or ashore, but mostly maneuvering for our own fun, in much the same way dolphins jump and twist in our wake. This is something we rarely get to do, sail simply for the sake of sailing. Our passages between ports are focused on making best speed, and our maneuvers and grandstanding are so often center-stage affairs, part of a parade or film shoot, timed to please crowds or media. While we always enjoy showing off Pride II, this time we got to show her off for ourselves.

As playground for our antics, we could scarcely have imagined better. With the wind at force three, Pride II and Lynx were both comfortably carrying all the sail they owned. Nova Scotia’s hills glowed lush and green in perfect sunlight – so rare on a coastline normally draped in fog. A barely perceptible roll reminded us with each heave that this was not the protected Chesapeake, but the open ocean. Still, the flat water let us do the incredible things Baltimore Schooners can do – pinpoint turns, incredible pointing – while above the jagged coast loomed the spires of Lunenburg, a favorite destination for all sailors.

And the crew, between each maneuver, burned with the question “Will we stop?”

Our friends aboard Highlander Sea were already there. Lynx had made it clear they would hail. World-voyaging Picton Castle, so often absent to far flung reaches of the world, was in port. Boston, our destination, was now just 350 nautical miles off, and we still had seven days to get there.

What else could a captain do? If I had tried to sail past, I’d have worried half the crew might swim for shore. The forecast called for flat clam until Wednesday, then coming Easterly, so there was nothing to gain by staying at sea. I made arrangements with Customs. Officially, we were diverting for weather. This is actually true, but not in the sense of thrashing gales, impending hurricanes and heaping seas traditionally evoked by the phrase. I suppose, to be technical, we were diverting for a LACK of weather. If the calm conditions were preceding strong Westerlies, we’d have had to make a mad dash to beat them. Instead, by waiting for the Easterlies, we’d save fuel.

So, “yes,” I told the crew, we’d stop in Lunenburg. But we weren’t just going there, we were grand standing in, so they’d better be spot on. This was no easily awed audience we were about to parade in front of, but a salty town full of working mariners who know their schooners. Plus, the wind had shifted West Northwest, putting the town nearly straight to weather, and meaning we’d be short tacking up the rock and shoal studded length of Lunenburg Bay. They answered the challenge and at 1650 local time, Pride II rounded up just off Picton Castlewith a thunder of cannon and flurry of sail handling. Folks out on a Sunday stroll lined the piers to watch. We weren’t just sailing for ourselves after all, but we didn’t mind at all.

All best,
Jamie Trost and sunbasking (really? In Nova Scotia?) crew of Pride II