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It is mid-April and the crew has been working aboard Pride of Baltimore II virtually non-stop for a month and a half. They have removed the winter cover and they have cleaned the vessel inside and out. After a long winter's nap, the vessel has been made liveable again. The mattresses and the cutlery have been dragged aboard. The engineer, Cal Ocampo, has brought all the ship's systems on-line: refrigeration, potable water, hot water heaters, the water-maker, the generator, the main engines, the electrical and electronic systems, and, most importantly, the diesel stove. P. J. Meyer is a veteran of last season's European Tour as well as Winter Maintenance. As our newly anointed Assistant Engineer (also known as the Engineer's Ass.), she is working alongside Cal to get acquainted with the new responsibilities. There's a Cook in the galley again. Her name is Sara Raff, and she cooks! It's three squares and a cot again aboard the old Pride of Baltimore II.

In late March, Christine Cleary handed the work list over to Pamela Coughlin who now takes up the reins of Chief Mate. This is Pamela's fifth hitch aboard the Pride since coming aboard as a deckhand four years ago. Our considerable arsenal of safety equipment has been inspected and placed aboard by the Second Mate and Safety Officer, David Bradley. Hippo, the rescue boat, has been reassembled. The spars have been sent up. Pride II has two topmasts, two gaffs, two yards, and a jiboom to send up each spring. The heaviest ones weigh close to a thousand pounds or so. Each has been delicately maneuvered aloft by our own contrivances, without the benefit of cranes or power, and without so much as a scratch to the varnish that was recently so carefully laid.

The crew has rigged the vessel. After final touches of varnish by Deckhands Tricia Fannin and Abigail Crain, each of the Pride's 160-odd blocks has been placed just so in the rig, and the correct line rove through it. The crew has lugged, cussed, and cajoled the heavy sails out of the warehouse, across the dock, and onto the ship. Each sail has then been "bent on" in its proper place and to the proper tension. The crew has painted, oiled, and varnished the vessel where needed. They spent ten days aboard in dry-dock, climbing down off the ship to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, and tending to the Pride's bottom with oakum, putty, and paint.

The Bosun, Dave Briddle, with the help of Deckhands Dashter Bien and Astra Valters, has taken stock of what we have and what we ought to have. They have inventoried our supplies of paint, varnish, brushes, solvents, tar, linseed oil, rope, seine twine, marlin, tools, pitch, canvas, spare blocks, strops, grommets, and mops. The engineer has stocked filters and belts and oil and such. A car load of toilet paper has been squirreled away into the secret recesses of the ship.

The Coast Guard, the American Bureau of Shipping, the Federal Communications Commission, the Fire Department, and the School Crossing Guard have all been aboard to inspect our work, and each in turn has nodded in solemn approval. Yes, we've been busy. We've done quite a lot. But one thing needs doing, that still we have not. There's one small thing that this crew has missed, an important thing too, that shouldn't be dismissed. Between all the hurrying, not to mention the scurrying, between all the tallies and takings of note, it dawns on us now, as we cast off the bow, that the crew has yet to sail the boat!

Finally, the great day comes when we get to go some place in our 1812-style vehicle of transport. So we head down the Bay with Cambridge as first port-of-call for the Year 2001. After spending a quiet night at anchor at Herring Bay, we speed over to Cambridge because the Second Mate has a bad tooth that needs looking into. There was a grand, if informal, little welcome when we got in at Cambridge, and then Dave went off to the dentist. It just so happened that a quantity of expired hand flares and smoke flares had accumulated aboard, so I took the opportunity to have the crew practice with them. Safety equipment is grand stuff, but its even better if you have tried the article in question before you actually need it. I was pleased to note that all the flares worked despite the fact they were expired.

It blew up strong Nor'west that night and there is not much protection from a Northwest wind at the Cambridge town dock. By 11 o'clock that night, every line we had was holding the vessel to the dock like so many strands of a cobweb vibrating in the breeze. It kept up all through the next day so that, when the school kids came aboard in the morning, we had to reef the stays'l down short before they could set it. There were some Open House hours that were reasonably well attended, considering it was during the week. The Maryland Port Administration held a reception aboard and we had the opportunity to meet many of the friendly folks of Dorchester County, including the Mayor of Cambridge. There are a number of skipjacks based in Cambridge so we also had the opportunity to meet some kindred spirits who care about wooden boats and the maritime heritage of Chesapeake Bay. In between times, the crew continued to put finishing touches on the rig.

On Thursday morning, we sailed for St. Michael's, another hotbed of traditional Bay boats and wooden boat building. The ship's company expanded prior to leaving Cambridge. Seven month-old Kessler Sullivan Parrott and her Mom joined us, along with guest crew member, Kevin Speight. It was Kessler's first voyage, and high time too!

Due to draft constraints, arrival and departure from St. Michael's must to be timed for high water. Even then, you'd better hope there isn't a Nor'wester blowing because if there is, it'll blow all the water out of the Bay, and the channel still may not be deep enough. En route to St. Michael's, there was an opportunity to do some tacking drill. The Pride is a fairly complex vessel for her size and every new crew, including returning crew, have to learn or re-learn her special characteristics. You can talk all you want, explaining this thing or that thing, but when it comes down to it, there is only one way to learn this ship and that is to sail her till your hands are raw. So we threw a series of tacks at the mouth of Eastern Bay. The first couple of tacks were clumsy and slow. This was to be expected. But the tacks grew progressively smoother so that by the end of the session the improvement was palpable. And then we headed to anchor.

We anchored right off St. Mike's for the night. Though it was early evening, the tide was on its way down and I preferred to spend a night at anchor to a night aground from trying to get in to the dock with a sub-optimum tide. But as we came to anchor, the sky grew dark and the wind gusted up to around twenty knots. It was starting to turn a little ugly. Should we try to go in? Might be worth the chance, rather than spending a white knuckled night on the hook off a lee shore. By and by the breeze dropped away and the vessel rode quietly at her anchor for the rest of the night.

The crew was up at O-dark thirty to make the tide. They manned the windlass and began to crank home the anchor chain. The music of the links passing through the hawse pipe and over the windlass drum drifted aft as first light came into the eastern sky. The anchor broke the surface and the bow paid off toward the red day shape that marks the entrance to St. Michael's harbor. Nosing in past the green marker, the sounder showed six feet under the keel. Plenty of water. Then it showed three feet. No problem. Then it showed two feet under the keel. Two feet is as good as a mile to a blind man. We glided in past the first markers and the sounder showed one foot. Not much room to spare now. Half a foot. Then the LED display read "0.0 feet" in emotionless, obsidian characters. And that is where it stayed as we came alongside the dock at the Chesapeake Bay Museum, and put the lines ashore.

Pride of Baltimore II is a tight squeeze at St. Michael's, no question about it. But it is a wonderful place for the vessel to be. The Chesapeake Bay Museum itself is a little piece of paradise for anyone fond of wooden boats and maritime history. The Pride towers over all creation at St. Michael's and her very presence in the harbor enhances what is already a very picturesque scene.

Pride II was in St. Michael's for three days during which time we were open to the public at the museum dock, and there were a number of school tours. The weather was grand and warm, more like summer than spring. The crew even had to install the hatch screens to keep the bugs out one night. The wee Kess watched the crew go about their business with the greatest of interest. She watched the ducks paddle about their business with the greatest of interest. She watched the flags fluttering, the water rippling, and people coming and going, all with the greatest of interest. Lucky stiff.

Upon leaving St. Michael's, once again it was a crack of dawn start to catch high water. Aboard were Kim and Kess, but also Jake Shattuck who served as a tireless volunteer through the long winter maintenance episode. Jake's engineering background and practical fix-it experience came in handy solving a number of niggling problems that were on the winter work list. Also Aboard was Cathey Allison, a photographer and website guru for the Mayor's band, O'Malley's March.

It was six in the morning when the Pride glided out of St. Michael's with the sounder showing "0.2 Feet." We were bound for Baltimore. A cold front was forecast to pass through in the afternoon, so rather than dangling on the anchor somewhere halfway home, we simply made a bee-line for Baltimore. By 1430 we were alongside at Lighthouse Point Marina in Canton. Twenty minutes later, the front came out of the west with gusts to thirty knots. But the lines had been doubled and the dock was strong and Pride II lay quite happily through the night.

The next morning we proceeded to our normal berth at the Finger Piers at the Inner Harbor. Our little shakedown sojourn to the Eastern Shore was complete. Cathey photographed life aboard extensively during her short stay and a few days later the crew each received a compact disc containing a personalized selection of shots from the trip.

The Pride arrived on the eve of the Baltimore Waterfront Festival. Our special contribution this year was to participate in the unveiling of an enormous, colorful, fiberglass fish, the first of hundreds that will adorn Charm City this summer. The organizers of the event watched tensely as the crew maneuvered the unwieldy creature, hook, line, and sinker, down the gangway and to its pedestal at the amphitheater. With the fish securely mounted, there was great rejoicing.

The following day I turned command of the vessel over to my partner, Captain Jan Miles, and the Festival went into full swing. And there was great rejoicing.

Watch Below,

Captain Dan Parrott