MYSTIC WHALER

THE MYSTIC VOYAGE

OF

BETTE McNEAR, WILMINGTON NEWS JOURNAL WRITER.

19 OCTOBER 1975

Bette had been intrigued with the Mystic Whaler, had only seen

her twice, once at her home port of Mystic, Connecticut and another

time in the Virgin Islands, where she used to sail.

The Mystic Whaler, a replica of an old whaling schooner built

in 1967, made a two day voyage, three times a week , to the ancient

port at Saint Michaels from Annapolis, SE around Kent Island, to

Miles River on the eastern shore.

The Mystic Whaler was being boarded at the Naval Academy

Dock instead of her berth at the Annapolis Hilton Hotel because of

safety reasons during the annual Annapolis Boat Show and Bette had

a bunk reserved for the trip to leave Annapolis in the early morning.

The schooner could be seen at the end of the dock, her deck lights

on 'dimly”, and people on board moving about.

A crew member of the Mystic Whaler, Tim with the red beard,

helped Bette on board and down a ladder to a cabin be shared with three

other women. Talk about small, it had four bunks, a 'tiny' wash basin ,

a clothing rack and a three foot space to turn around in. The 'head' was

across a small space, the hall, two feet away. Tim told us that they

were serving 'punch' in the “great room” and we could join in any

time we were ready to.

The 'great room', say a bit large, has 12 bunks with red curtains

for privacy , it is where everyone eats when the weather is rough , a

card game going in to the wee hours, crew and passengers gather to

warm up, drink the good and hot coffee. Warm and cozy, most were

at the stainless steel pot of 'rum punch” .

Twenty five total strangers, the conversations a bit strained,

loosened some later by the punch, then died as one by one each

crept to the bunks and cabins to figure how to get some sleep.

Warm blankets, clean sheets, good pillows, sleeping was comfortable,

but don't sit up, roll out and don't undress, there is not enough space to

do so.

Breakfast is ready by Jeff Blasteff, with the dark scraggly beard,

eggs, bacon and biscuits, good hot coffee, lingered over a long time

since it was cold and damp topside.

The weather remained rotten during the trip and everyone, now

sailors, saying “it could be worse” and additional garments kept

appearing. Islands and lighthouses 'floated' by, the captain, 25 year

old Captain Quentin Snedeker, with the not so scraggly beard, at the

“wheel” and other crew members calling the names and locations.

Now, at 2 pm, early afternoon, the sun appeared a moment, over

the yardarm. Out came a bottle of scotch, then other bottles, to ward

snakebites and cold toes , all now loosened up , telling stories and

even singing a bit. There was a couple 'just married' along, a honeymoon

in up an down bunks, yet.

It does not take long to learn the ropes and find ones way around,

a feeling of camaraderie, so to speak, and now comfortable like an old

shoe, comes quick.

Abstract: Sunday News Journal 19 October 1975, by Bette

McNear to Facebook.