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
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