To Boldly Go - Where so many have gone before

Ron Palmer

Description

After a working life at sea of some thirty-five years one might think it would be time to swallow the anchor, as the saying goes, and retire to a peaceful existence on shore. However, for the author - Ron Palmer such an existence by nature was not to be. To misquote a saying; you can take a sailor away from the sea, but you can't take the sea from a sailor, and the pull to return to the water is forever strong. 'I want to go down to the sea again to the lonely sea and the sky,' as John Masefield wrote in his poem Sea Fever. This book relates the further experiences of a nautical nature for the author after retiring as a captain of VLCCs (Very Large Crude Carriers.) I'm loath to say that these adventures are to be the finality of the emotional pull to seafaring, but who knows, something might crop up to take me away again. After all if one doesn't have a dream then there isn't much left in life to live for, and I certainly dream the dream. A must read for those who lean towards a sedentary life style, the armchair adventurer and for those who have a dream. An urge to get up and go will take hold of the adventurous. A most enjoyable read for all ages.Book reviews online @ www.publishedbestsellers.com

Sujets

• Philosophie et théologie
• Boating
• Memoir

Informations

• Publié par: Pneuma Springs Publishing
• Date de parution: 30 mai 2011
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781782282129
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

To Boldly Go

Where so many have gone before





Ron Palmer
Copyright

First Published in 2011 by: Pneuma Springs Publishing
To Boldly Go Copyright © 2011 Ron Palmer
Pneuma Springs
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Palmer, Ron. To boldly go : where so many have gone before. 1. Palmer, Ron. 2. Palmer, Ron--Travel. 3. Voyages and travels. 4. Seafaring life. 5. Ship captains—Great Britain--Biography. I. Title 910.4'5'092-dc22
Kindle eISBN: 9781907728976 ePub eISBN 9781782282129 PDF eBook eISBN 9781782280811 Paperback ISBN: 9781907728150

Pneuma Springs Publishing E: [e-mail] W: www.pneumasprings.co.uk
Published in the United Kingdom. All rights reserved under International Copyright Law. Contents and/or cover may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written consent of the publisher.
Prologue
Retirement even the thought of such can be for some people a daunting experience especially if they are unprepared. Fortunately, for my part I had an aptitude for DIY which was to come into my, shall I say afterlife, a life after working for someone else for 35 years that is. As it turned out I retired early in my mid fifties, and took the opportunity to move to British Columbia a place I’ve had a desire to be since being on a ship trading between there and the West Indies, timber one way and sulphur for the paper mills the other, this being in the mid 1950s. Vancouver was my first sojourn after retirement to stay in that wonderful part of the world until Pender Island beckoned to me, a small island of some 2000 souls, a friendly laid back island and one of the Southern Gulf islands in the Strait of Georgia. This as it turned out was a fortunate choice as apart from the laid back character that suited my new outlook on life it gave opportunities for my skills that would be hard to put into practice in a city the size of Vancouver. After building a house for my then girlfriend and myself I branched out into doing handy-man jobs which progressed from minor repair jobs to erecting 100 sq ft cabins on lots that off island folks owned and needed a roof over their heads and a place to camp out when visiting the island. These items proved to be quite popular to the point that my then neighbour at that time bequeathed me with the sobriquet Ronnie Two Sheds which was quite amusing but inadequate as by this time there were quite a few more than two of these sheds if you like dotted around the island. This size incidentally was convenient; a structure of 100 foot floor space didn’t require planning permission. It has always been my contention that in North America generally and in Canada in particular, as was the case in this instance, if a person can read and has a practical aptitude one can do whatever one wishes to do as long as they stay with-in the regulations, it is all written down in easy to understand books. And should you go wrong there is always the Building Inspector to put you back on track. So it was then that I progressed to building houses and unbeknown to me at that time, a forty-foot sloop. But more of that experience later.
The relationship that I was in became quite intolerable in time and I soon moved out to live on my own. This bachelor status lasted for some three or four months then such is life on Pender one drifts towards another kindred soul and off we go again. By this time I was established as a reliable turn up on time worker and the jobs kept coming in. My present partner was a keen boater having secured a ‘Skippers ticket’ for small sailboats. So it was then, against my initial protests, as having spent thirty-five years at sea, and was not quite enamoured with putting out onto the waters again. But then, what is life but a compromise and so we were soon proud owners of a 27ft Tanza sloop called ‘Knotty Girl’ seized by the bank from the owner due to none payment of debt and offered to the highest bid.
We took possession of said ‘Knotty Girl’ in a boatyard in North Vancouver and brought it over to Pender, not without some anxious moments I must add as coming under Lions Gate Bridge, which connects Vancouver with the North Shore, the engine promptly cut out and we drifted out into English Bay with the outgoing tide. In which that direction was a plus, rather than being pushed back towards our starting point. In this unfamiliar situation, being strangers to the boat, I managed to get the sails up which due to the poor wind speed had our movement a little better than without any wind at all. However, after letting the engine cool down it fired again on the first attempt and so we chugged along at engine revolutions that wouldn’t overheat the engine again across the Strait of Georgia and into Active Pass, between the islands of Galiano and Mayne, by evening twilight. Not a good time of day for visibility but by keeping to the starboard side of the Pass we managed to get through without running into or being run down by one of the frequent ferries plying between Vancouver Island and the Mainland.
The engine a petrol model continued to behave and in due course we arrived at Otter Bay Marina, our destination. This is where a feature that had particularly pleased me, a searchlight mounted on the bow, came into play as the dock became brilliantly illuminated as we approached eliminating any chance of making a violent contact with the said dock in the dark. So it was that the first adventure with our new toy came to a satisfactory conclusion.
From then on we had many interesting jaunts in the boat, sometimes with friends, but most of the outings were by ourselves, even venturing further afield to what became a favourite spot - the Marine Park at Wallace Island. By this time I had got over my reservations about being a boat owner and settled down to being a responsible and proud small boat sailor by making improvements where necessary and the general upkeep, in particular. Of course it wasn’t all a bed of roses and one particular incident occurred which I think had my partner, Jan, starting to lose interest in the joys of boating. This happened on one particular summer evening after I had come home from work. On my suggestion we had gone down to the boat with a bottle of wine and went out to try our luck at salmon fishing. Chugging along nicely at a decent trolling speed we got as far as the entrance to Navy Channel, the channel between Pender and the Mayne the next island north. When the fishing line fouled with the result that in attempting to retrieve it resulted in losing the whole tackle, it was getting towards dark anyway so we started back to the Marina. But, such is life, the engine packed in, just quit and as any attempt to start it again only produced an ominous sound from the solenoid suggesting a dead battery and that no way was this lump of old iron going to spring into life. A most puzzling situation as with the engine running one would expect the battery to be fully charged. In due course at a later date this phenomenon became apparent. The switch for the searchlight, that wonderful and useful addition to the boat’s equipment, is located in the cockpit at the same height and position of my right leg, the two had obviously made contact and the light was switched on unnoticed at the time due to the brightness of the evening. Well, as they say one can live and learn. All was not lost though as there was a small breeze blowing landwards so it was just a case of hoisting the sails and away we would go. Right, now it was time for the sail to misbehave and made it impossible to hoist even the main or the jib due to the downhaul fouling near the top of the mast. By this time the boat was drifting towards the rocks, which would not do at all and giving me visions of having to explain to the insurance people an embarrassing situation. So down went the anchor in time to stop the shoreward drift.
Fortunately the mast was equipped with steps so it was no problem to get up to clear the fouled line. It should be mentioned here that Pender Island is by-passed by large ferries plying between Swartz Bay on Vancouver Island and Tsawwassen on the mainland, with the bow waves from these vessels coming ashore on the island. While I was up the mast clearing the obstruction the boat was hit by a mini tsunami from a passing ferry which caused the boat to roll heavily with me clinging to the mast for dear life swinging through a violent arc of the surrounding atmosphere like a manic metronome, and to observe the winch handle slither across the deck and disappear over the side. Lesson two; don’t leave the winch handle on deck there are pockets for such items.
Once everything had settled down and I had descended to the deck, quite shaken I might add, with the breeze filling the sails, it was up anchor to continue on our way. In due course we were off the home marina just as the wind died only to be carried past on the outgoing tide. This state of events brought the boat to the next marina along the shore a welcome haven called Thieves Bay and a private marina. Not that this designation troubled me, any port in a storm as they say to misquote a saying. It was with judicious manipulation mainly with swinging the rudder back and fro and the inset of tide into the bay that we came up against the breakwater extension, a fortunate bundle of pilings rather than the shelving side of the breakwater proper. It was from this position that we could hand the boat into the marina and tie up to the first dock. A most fortunate occurrence as had this tidal indraught not brought us into a safe berth who knows where we would have drifted off to. With the battery flat there was no communication with the VHF either. All was not a disaster though as this particular marina is a short uphill 20 minute walk home to which much wearied we arrived just after midnight. It never rains but it pours they do say and this occasion proved the point as someone had enter