The Captain's Logs are below.

Read the Crew's Views from John, KC, and Caroline as they reflect on their experiences in Asia.

Back to 1999 Captain Logs Index

Now, for some days, even weeks, various crewmembers had dropped hints, just in case the Captain was not aware, that the Gloucester Schooner Race was to transpire this Labor Day weekend. It so happened, purely by chance of course, that the Captain was indeed in possession of this fact already, thank you very much, and even had the requisite paperwork on board. But the Captain's job is to get the ship to its destination on schedule, and the persistent reminders regarding the upcoming race were not helpful to his overall strategy for getting to New London, CT, our next scheduled port of call, on time. In fact, they were gradually convincing him that it could be a huge mistake to detour to Cape Ann with so many uncertainties still ahead and so many annoying distractions in his midst. But now it is ten o'clock in the evening and the sea has gone to glass, and Gloucester is only 90 miles off. Why, we could be there by noon tomorrow! Why, we'd practically have to go right past it!

On Saturday, September 4, Pride of Baltimore II emerged from a fog bank off Cape Ann and entered Gloucester Harbor, striking sail as she came. The sticks of visiting schooners rose above the warehouses and fish piers. There was the Ernestina of New Bedford, the Brilliant out of Mystic, the Lettie G. Howard from New York, the American Eagle from Maine, the Adventure and the Thomas Lannon, both of Gloucester. Later in the day the Alabama and the Harvey Gamage pulled in as scheduled. Another schooner lay at the State Fish Pier that had lain in Gloucester for many years in an earlier incarnation. This was the ex-Pilot, now sailing under new ownership as the Highlander Sea out of Halifax, Nova Scotia. As in the days of old, a Nova Scotia schooner had sailed to Cape Ann to give the Americans a run for their money. Her gleaming black hull and long waterline seemed to say that she would.

Sunday was race day. I went to the skippers meeting and slapped down our entry fee. This was the first time Pride of Baltimore II had ever attended the Gloucester Schooner Race, though I was informed that Pride of Baltimore had been scheduled to attend in 1986 before she was lost. The race organizers, if not the contestants, seemed genuinely thrilled that Pride II had arrived so unexpectedly and in time for the race.

In the morning, all the participating vessels filed out past the famous Gloucester Fisherman's Memorial: a salt-green bronze statue of a man standing on a heeling deck, braced against the wheel box and clutching at the spokes of the helm.

It was a fine sunny day. The fog bank had pulled back and hundreds of people lined the littoral for a view of the schooners heading out to the starting line. The course that was decided upon was a five mile beat dead to weather, going northeast along the coast of Cape Ann, followed by a reach back to the finish line. Pride II was in the thick of things approaching the starting line, with everything up but a stuns'l, ringtail, and the t'gallant. But as we closed with the line, Highlander Sea from Nova Scotia came barreling in from windward, squeezing between Pride II and the Coast Guard cutter that marked the start. At this point, what had been a light breeze (eight knots or so) petered out to three or four knots, leaving a bunch of very fine looking schooners drifting around with bare steerageway. But a race is a race and every vessel was determined to give it their best shot. Brilliant, of course, walked away from the pack, but she is a different class of vessel. Among the big schooners, Highlander Sea was the clear beneficiary of these irritably light conditions. While no vessel was at her best, Highlander made slow steady progress to windward. Aboard Pride II, a continual inspection of the set of the sails and adjustment of the sheets did nothing to close the gap. The t'gallant was set above the foretops'l just for something to do. Lovely as she looked, Pride II was in second place and there appeared to be little we could do about it.

After a number of tacks, Highlander judged herself far enough to windward to lay the mark. Aboard Pride II, we stood on a little longer before coming onto the starboard tack. Initially this tactic appeared to add to Highlander's lead. At one point, I estimate she was about three-fourths of a mile ahead and, frankly, she was starting to look a bit hazy out there. However, when we finally tacked over, Pride II was just that bit more off the wind that her sails drew better and she began to gain. Thinking of the downwind homeward leg, the port stuns'l boom was run out and the gear made ready. Meanwhile the poor Highlander found herself so close-hauled that she was pinching and losing speed trying to reach the mark without tacking again. Although she was first around the windward mark, she appeared to stall. With a slight freshening of the breeze, Pride II came barreling down on the mark (relatively speaking) and executed a reasonably slick gybe just off the mark. Now that we were on a port tack and no longer close-hauled, up went the stuns'l. The Mate, Stephanie Reynolds, orchestrated a flawless set and we soon saw and felt the difference that one sail can make.

Coming into the gybe, we had closed within two ship lengths of our worthy opponent, but to our dismay Highlander began to pull away again. This situation did not last, however, as our expanded sail area and off-the-wind capability began to tell. Before long, Pride II was in a position to pass the Highlander Sea. The two vessels started the homeward leg beam reaching, though the mark was well to leeward. It soon became evident that the only reason Highlander continued to steer so high was that sailing downwind was her weakest point of sail.

After a couple of feints at passing to windward, we bore off under the stern of Highlander giving us a clean run straight to the finish line. Highlander carried on, barely off the wind, and was forced to execute a second gybe before she could lay the finish line. While passing the cutter at the finish line, our Gunner, Dave Briddle, and the Bosun, Samantha Heyman, let fly a victory broadside. Highlander Sea crossed three minutes later.

Following some law of nature, as soon as the race was over, a fine sailing breeze sprang up. All the schooners were now crossing the line, sails billowing and bones in their teeth. Pride II cantered past, greeting each with a cannon shot before furling her topsails and heading into Gloucester for a night of revelry.

The plaque I received for First Prize depicted the schooner Esperanto, the American fishing schooner that defeated the Nova Scotian contender in 1920. That was the first year of the formalized international schooner races. This is the fifteenth year of the resurrected races. How fitting that Pride II should arrive, unscheduled, in the nick of time to uphold our national honor against the traditional competitor, a big schooner from Nova Scotia. The name of Pride of Baltimore II will join those of victorious schooners from other years, along with the original Esperanto Cup, at the Gloucester Chamber of Commerce.

The next day, after fire drills, was an all-hands day off. The crew clambered about the downtown in two and threes and alones, rummaging through bookstores, sampling chowder, reading plaques, and generally getting a good dose of Gloucester. There are few seaports on the east coast of the United States that carry their seafaring and sailing heritage into the present as Gloucester does. The filming of "The Perfect Storm" commenced to clog the main street.

The next day was back to work. We took on fuel, food, clean laundry, new charts, and spare parts. The Gloucester Daily Times sold out unexpectedly early as everyone aboard wanted extra copies for posterity. The local media gave full due to the Pride, publishing not less than four photographs of her, along with a number of articles chronicling the event. A day later, September 8, we departed. Our visit to Gloucester had been glorious and thoroughly enjoyable, but we still had many miles to go before New London.

For several days the weather forecasts had been incorrect, leaving one with the sinking feeling that all was not well in the world. The remainder of the voyage to New London chiefly involved motoring. Pride II hastened through the Cape Cod Canal and Buzzards Bay. We called briefly at Newport before pressing on to shelter in Fishers Island Sound ahead of a nasty front. We spent a day at anchor in the lee of Fishers Island. People took turns going ashore and trudging about in a downpour, while others chipped and painted the engines to the tune of a heavy, relentless rain pattering on the deck. Rain or shine, there is always work to do aboard Pride of Baltimore II.

New London, CT

Saturday, September 11, brought the first taste of autumn. A clear blue sky awaited us when we tumbled on deck to weigh anchor. A chill haunted the air that calls for an extra shirt until the work has begun, or the sun has risen higher if you're the Captain. A short crisp sail brought us to the doorstep of New London, Connecticut. The north wind and the ebb tide conspired to hold us at the river mouth despite our best efforts to short tack up the Thames River. The simultaneous arrival of three ferries, a dinghy regatta, a research vessel, and a capsized yacht in our path argued for striking sail and motoring the short distance remaining to the pier. The sails came in and we went alongside for the weekend.

Crew member Tim Collyer (TC) signs off here in New London. Likeke Goings leaves us at the next port. The transition into fall has begun. Crew who have served their six months are preparing to sign off Pride II and go onto other great adventures. I look forward to seeing many of them back. Captain Miles has arrived aboard to take command for a few weeks.

Watch Below,
Captain Parrott