Sailing, Sailing...

A ship in harbor is safe -- but that is not what ships are built for.
-- John A. Shedd, Salt from My Attic, 1928

This quote, along with an anchor wrapped in rope is emblazoned on several t-shirts and a jacket at my house. All 3 of us have a shirt, and the jacket belongs to the young man (my son) who discovered the quote, created the design, screened it on all the garments and is currently at sea for 4 weeks as part of the crew on the tall ship Gazela.


(Photo by Brad Kollar)

My son has a love of the sea. An extreme love of the sea. He comes by it honestly, as I am never happier than when I am on the beach with the wind in my face, the sound of the waves and gulls in my ears and the distinct scent of salt water in the air. I, however, become terribly motion sick while boating. He, luckily, has not inherited this condition.

CJ began volunteering on the Gazela in his junior year of high school. He joined the Philadelphia Ship Preservation Guild, a non-profit organization who owns the Barkentine Gazela Premeiro and the lighter barge Poplar, and operates and maintains the iron tugboat Jupiter. He spent numerous weekends at the dock, scraping, painting, polishing brass, tying sails and learning the language of sailors. Port and starboard instead of left and right. Bulkhead instead of stairs. Below instead of downstairs. Head instead of bathroom. Deck instead of floor. Aft and Fore instead of back and front. Berth, uprigging, fo’csle, helm.



His first trip was a day sail, simply out into open water and back again. He came home exhilarated, animated, and totally hooked. When the opportunity arose for him to sail with and crew (actually work) on a trip to New York, he jumped at the chance. The ship sailed to Red Hook, docked for a weekend, opening the ship to all who wished to climb aboard and learn about her role in the Great White Fleet, fishing cod off the shores of Canada in the early 1900’s. In the evenings, they hosted performances of a cabaret, for which the deck was transformed into a stage. CJ's job was to take photos that would later be used to promote the cabaret troupe. The whole scene harkened back to the days when the Gazela plied the seas daily, catching and hauling tons of fish for the hungry masses.

This summer, a few days after he graduated from college, he caught a ride to Manhattan and boarded the Gazela as crew for OpSail 2012 and the renowned Fleet Week. He was gone for a week, then home for 2 days, during which he did his laundry and repacked his bag. He then left from Philadelphia for OpSail Virginia, where the ship docked in Portsmouth and was open to the public for almost a week. Next port, Baltimore MD, then home to Philadelphia to be designated the Official Tall Ship of the International Port of Philadelphia.

Back to dry land for my sailing son until July 8, when we drove to Newport, RI to catch the boat at the Ocean State Tall Ship Festival. As I type, (July 11, 2012), they’re on their way to Bath, Maine, with an ultimate end destination of Nova Scotia. They’ll dock in Halifax, Port Hawksbury and Pictou, before sailing back home and docking on August 6.

As a member of the crew, CJ stands 4 hour watches on and off throughout the day, sometimes on deck, sometimes up in the rigging, clipped in like a rock climber, sometimes circling the ship looking for leaks and other non-normal things, sometimes simply helping where needed. He's repaired rope work, he's polished brass, he's stood anchor line at docking...I don't think there's much he hasn't done, except cook, perhaps (and that's not a bad thing). It’s not easy work; intensely physical, and out in the weather, no matter what it’s doing. He’s fed, berthed, unpaid, and completely satisfied and fulfilled. It's wonderful to talk to him about his time on the ship. He's a man transformed; transported by memory back to the place he calls his home at sea.

What an opportunity. What an adventure. What a memory-making, once-in-a-lifetime journey!* There may never be another time in his life when he’ll have the freedom of time to “run off” on a boat. He’s living a dream shared by every young man who’s read about and romanticized travel by sea. Even, more accurately, I suppose, those who’ve watched “Pirates” or “Master and Commander" and thought about jumping a ship to see the world. The Gazela isn't at war. She's not trawling for cod anymore, and in the waters in which she sails, there isn’t much chance of piracy. But being aboard is a totally authentic experience, even as a tourist. There’s a sense of peace and serenity that envelops you when you step on board. I can only imagine what it's like to be a part of her crew, knowing intimately how she works and what she can do. I can’t explain it; I can only tell you I wish I could sail away with him.



Sure, the Gazela has GPS and an elaborate tracking system set up so I can click a link and tell where, in real time, she is when she’s in range. But to look at her docked at a place along a modern harbor, or gliding across the water under sail, you can’t help but be entranced, enchanted, and transported back to a different time. And if you’re my son or any one of the 20+ other crew members, feeling like one of the luckiest humans alive.

Safe sailing, my son…I pray Poseidon brings you home safely.

*After this summer, the Gazela will be placed in dry dock for a year or more to have her hull re-coppered. After this, she’ll never again make a sail the length of the trip to NS. See what I mean by once-in-a-lifetime?

Phat Fiber Sample Box: Fiber Fancy Shetland braid giveaway!

Phat Fiber Sample Box: Fiber Fancy Shetland braid giveaway!

You simply have to see the happiness at Fiber Fancy! I've entered Phat Fiber's giveaway in the hopes of becoming proud owner of one of the lovely braids on the site.

Click over & have a look. You'll be glad you did!

While I Wasn't Looking

Somehow…while I wasn’t looking…my son grew up.

I guess in my head I knew it would happen. He’s 22, for Pete’s sake. He’s graduating from college this May. Of COURSE he grew up, you’re saying. That’s what they DO.

Except that I wasn’t ready for it. Don’t get me wrong – I am so proud of my son and his accomplishments that I could burst. But while it’s one thing to know in your head that he’s an adult, it’s completely another to stand back at his first gallery showing (his senior exhibition) and watch him actually BE one.



I cried for 3 days four years ago when I took him to Cambridge, MA to live at school. I made sure he called every week and Bill and I arranged for every bus trip home to be sure he’d make it for every break.

Then came the summer he didn’t come home…between junior and senior year. I thought, after 3 years of seeing him sporadically on his breaks, that it would be OK that he wasn’t home for the summer. It was…until it wasn’t anymore. I was home alone (my daughter lives with her dad in the summer), and I didn’t like it. Not one bit. But I made it through and he came home for 2 weeks before he went back for his 4th and final year.

Winter break this year was a joy, even though I had to work through most of it. It was comfortable having him home and knowing he was there with us. Even though he and my daughter picked at each other, his being home made her happy, and it was nice.



There were a few moments that should have hinted to me that this wasn’t my “little boy,” or as he’s referred to affectionately, my “boy-child” anymore. He made some comments that took me aback a bit – responsible comments that took into consideration the needs and wants and situations of others. I don’t know why I was surprised, but I was. His scope had widened. As it should have – but it was neat to see.

He went back to school with the determination to be technology-free for a while. He left his laptop home for his sister to use and only had his phone on over weekends. It worked out because by this point, let’s be serious…he wasn’t calling home every week anyhow. And I was OK with that, knowing he’s a busy student with obligations and friends to keep him occupied.

Those obligations, which mandated a senior portfolio show, kept him from coming home on Spring Break. Yes, of course I missed him, but it would have only been a week and it would have been a challenge to spend time with him. Although again, just knowing he’s in the house is comforting. But I sucked it up and soldiered on with the knowledge that I was going to see him at his senior show. I would finally get to see the work that had been his mistress all this time and spend some time with him in his own environment. I was very much looking forward to it.



We had the privilege of staying at my father’s house in historic Marblehead. All I can say is that it’s beautiful.



There’s nothing about it I don’t like.



There’s nothing about it my kids don’t like, and, well…I wish it were, or had the potential to be, mine someday. It doesn’t, but that’s another story for another time.




SO –

We went to his show, held at a gallery in Cambridge. There were a LOT of people there.



As soon as he saw me, I got one of his signature hugs (you haven’t been hugged until my son hugs you) and an introduction to the people he’d interrupted to hug me. Of course, he constantly forgot his sister, but it was OK – I could tell he was nervous, and after a while he started to remember.



Although there were 3 artists showing, it was clear that this was his show. The majority of the crowd was there to see his work, and he worked the crowds like a professional. He accepted his congratulations, explained his work, and, because he is who he is, worked making photos to document the experience.



He was in his element, and it was stunning to see. Here was this charming, handsome young artist, someone who draws people like (cliché coming) moths to flame, and he was my son. MINE. But in this environment, he wasn’t my “boy-child.” He was an artist. A man. A citizen of the world. In a sense, he didn’t belong to me anymore, he belonged to everyone there, and they deserved him. He deserved them. He deserved all of it; the accolades, the attention, the glory, if you will, of a show that far exceeded my expectations and made me so proud that I could have cried. (I did that later.) It was a bittersweet moment. I realized I'd done what I set out to do, and he doesn't really "need" me anymore. It's a stunning revelation.





So you see, 22 years ago, I gave birth to my first child. And while I wasn’t looking, he grew up.

The Revolution Will Be...

Made By Hand.

The title of this entry is actually stolen from my friend Susan Gibbs, owner of Juniper Moon Farm.

Let's begin at the beginning. In 2009, my fiance' found a small ad in his Food and Wine magazine, advertising shares in a fiber farm in the Hudson Valley (where Susan was then located). He splurged and bought me a share in the 2009 Fall Shearing. What that meant was after the animals (sheep and goats) were shorn in the fall, I would receive a portion of the clip in the form of skeins of lovely, smooshy yarn. That year, I got 5 skeins. I think I've only missed one year's membership, and honestly, I won't miss another if I can manage it.

Why?

Because I've met the most WONDERFUL group of loving, supportive people through the JMF board on Ravelry. And even better, I've met some of them in person at the twice-annual Shearing Days that Susan holds at the farm. They're as wonderful in person as they are online. They're my big, happy, extended family.

Since I've been a member, glorious things have happened. The farm changed names and moved to Palmyra, Virginia. This past year, Susie launched a scrumptious line of commercial yarns that you can get at Webs if your local yarn store doesn't sell it. We're two seasons in, and I can't WAIT to see what comes next!!

But the big thing is right now, right this minute. Something new and wonderful is happening. Something that's going to knock your handknit socks off. Susan is launching a fabulous magazine called "By Hand."

To borrow from Susan's blog,


"The idea is to celebrate creating things with our hands, and to explore the motivation to make things in a world where there are cheaper and immediate alternatives. It will be both practical (patterns, DIY projects, etc) and thoughtful, with a lovely and gentle aesthetic."

To get it off the ground, there's a Kickstarter campaign you can find here. As of this writing, the project has been back by 75 people and is at a little under $6100, with an end goal of $16,000. The killer? IT OPENED THIS MORNING. I've no doubt the goal will be met and likely surpassed.

I can't tell you how much I love Susie and the "Aunties" at JMF. And the sheep. And the goats. Oh, hell, I just love the Farm in general - it's peaceful and beautiful and it's overall amazing. You want to be part of this. Really, you do. I'm not saying you have to buy a share, but check out the website. Peek in on the lambcam - we can't WAIT for lambing season, which begins in April!! Check out her shop for some really neat hand made items. Seriously - I'm crazy for everything Juniper Moon.

There's something in it for you if you can help Susie and the creative bunch she's gathered to create "By Hand." There are some really neat rewards for backing the project. And they're all made "By Hand."