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I can’t express enough how grateful I am for the shirt that was presented to me on my first morning – embossed with the Windleblo logo (that Emily designed) and ‘Golden, Co.’ underneath. It made me feel like a member of the crew. When we were manoeuvering the boat through the system of locks along the Caledonian Canal, and there were lots of tourists watching us, not to mention the people on other boats and the lockmaster, I thought that as long as I was wearing my uniform, I’d look like I knew what I was doing. Maybe they would even assume that I was part of the family and American, as long as I didn’t say “Oh, bugger!” or “Bollocks!” as I tripped over lines in my hurry to wedge something in between the slimy brick wall and the shiny white exterior of the Hallberg-Rassy.
Whilst on fender duty I knew that my job was fairly extraneous, but I still got to stand on deck in the sunshine, with a rope in my hand and lace-up Crocs on my feet, and I felt like part of the team and was happy. I said to Jack, “I’m not sure I’m comfortable being in a position that means the boat could be scratched, and it would be my fault, on my first day on board.” Jack replied, “Well, that’s the risk you took when you stepped onto this boat.”
It felt great to be trusted like that, and this trust was not entirely misplaced, as I can proudly say on the eve of my departure that I haven’t broken or lost anything (R.I.P. the plate, the bowl, the coffee maker, a pair of glasses, a bar of soap and a sock, all of which were recently broken or went overboard…) A comedy highlight of the week: when, passing Emily a lifejacket, Raji inadvertently got her camera caught up in the procedure and it fell into the water with a plop. Jack dived in after it, although not before changing into his trunks, as a camera’s not exactly worth hurling oneself fully-clothed into three metres of murky canal, unlike saving a family member, pet or perhaps an iPhone 5.
Speaking of things falling gracelessly into the water, on Monday we pulled up at the dock in Loch Oich in the sunshine, where Emily and I went swimming towards a wrecked yacht that lay half-immersed by the bank, and promptly tried to rope-swing using diseased-looking ropes that were dangling from the mast. I won’t go into too much detail as to our success, but this Brit is certainly not as robust as a young adult from Colorado who has doubtless been strengthened by winters spent skiing, hiking and wrestling bears, or whatever it is that they do in the States. For the rest of my life I shall remember Emily’s loving reassurances regarding the state of my aching limbs after climbing Ben Nevis on Friday, “Pain is WEAKNESS LEAVING YOUR BODY!!!” and “This doesn’t hurt ENOUGH!!!” One thing we are never short of on the Windleblo is a sense of humour.
Here’s a realization that I came to fairly early on: it’s not just life on the boat that is such a great experience, but life around the boat. Swimming, rowing in the little grey dinghy, exploring ancient ruins, having a bottle of Crabbies’ alcoholic ginger beer (a new shared obsession of mine and Jocelyn’s) at the Floating Pub. Most of the crew has, with dwindling enthusiasm, been trying the local ales in all the pubs, but it’s pretty gross and I’m informed, nowhere near as good as what they have in Boulder. Nor did the ‘Dew’ of Ben Nevis prove much better, as Scotch is an acquired taste that none of us have exactly acquired. Not much chance of drinking and driving, then, despite mine and Emily’s valiant efforts to smuggle vast amounts of gin and Cassis into Jocelyn’s grocery shopping.
Another highlight of my nautical experience has been the food. It’s amazing that you can not only fit so much into the storage space on this boat, but that you can produce such good meals in such a small kitchen. From ‘Captain’s Slurry’ on my first night (showing commitment to traditional sailing jargon we have been invariably describing most meals as ‘slurry’ no matter how solid their consistency…) to tandoori chicken, the leftovers of which were carried by Emily to the top of Ben Nevis where they had to be defended from several dogs, American-style pancakes and fajitas, we have eaten well this week. Not to mention, the fantastic fish restaurant we went to in Fort William (smoked salmon wrapped in sole, anyone?) and Ferrero Rocher ice cream in Oban. It’s a good job that cleaning the boat is so physically strenuous, or they’d have to roll me back to Wolverhampton tomorrow. Perhaps now that I’m leaving, the Hoopes family can happily get back to calling pancakes ‘flapjacks,’ tea ‘dinner,’ and pudding ‘dessert,’ without the worry of my contradicting them in a whiny British accent.
One thing that I am extremely happy about is that we got to actually sail this week, once the wind picked up a bit and we were no longer trapped in a network of canals. Crossing to Oban on the actual ocean was fantastic. Emily and I pretended to be on watch for potential hazards, buoys and fishing nets, when all we were really interested in was playing cards and looking for seals. (Note: we saw one. It was cute.) At perfect moments like that, it’s difficult not to get philosophical. I have loved every moment of my time on the Windleblo. I have learned about sailing (I now know what lines, cleats and fenders are, and the difference between port and starboard side!), and it might not always be easy but it’s so much fun.
I’d like to finish with my enduring thanks to Jocelyn, Jack and Emily for the adventure. I hope to share more adventures with you soon. At any rate, if you are ever sailing down Wolverhampton’s canals (which healthcare professionals would not advise, I’m sure), I’d love to take you all out for fish and chips.
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In an attempt to preserve a few of our more shining comedic moments of the week, I have captured some quotes below. Enjoy!
*On Kerrera Island #1*
Emily: This island is really small.
Imogen: Yeah, there may only be two or three Irn Bru dispensers here.
Jocelyn: So what is a flapjack? I just don’t understand…
*Response to a ‘must be queer friendly’ roommate advert for her college housing next semester*
Emily: The only thing I enjoy more than cooking is cleaning, and the only things I like more than dogs are queers.
*To a group of strange men on top of Ben Nevis*
Imogen: Sorry guys, have I kept you waiting?
*On Colby College days in the 1970's*
John Allan: There were the jocks. There were the freaks. And then there was the Geology Club.
*On British/American differences*
Raji: You call dessert pudding? And dinner, tea?!
Imogen: Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault.
*Listening to the Red Sox game on WEEI online*
Jack: They’re losing.
Imogen: Who? The Red Shoes?
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