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    Sailing Tales from an Old Salt
    Sailing Tales from an Old Salt
    Sailing Tales from an Old Salt
    Ebook64 pages1 hour

    Sailing Tales from an Old Salt

    By Mark Rowley

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    This is a seafaring story with multiple aspects. Information gleamed by the author is from 20+ years of sea-logs, is a narrative or comments by the captain of an off coming watch on an ocean vessel whereas the author was a member. By multiple aspects, I refer to facts, that while the story is based on facts, especially the strange events, the remainder I have taken the privilege of a fictional book to deviate from the "rume line". I have inserted my sense of humor whenever possible, also from events that have occurred. I have been told my sense of humor is dry but Im positive you will have a laugh or two! As a disclaimer; I end the yarn by sailing through the horizon oil spill in the northern Gulf of Mexico. I was there for the event but on a power vessel with log entries and pictures to document my participation in the failed off-shore clean-up of the mess left to us by an old ally from Europe.

    What is not in the book is that I contracted a lung disease from this experience. Many local good men and women did also. Furthermore, some have passed, but my rendition in the book is accurate as to the conditions at sea with as much as possible, emotions withheld. I believe that both sailor and non will enjoy this yarn and possibly learn a few things about our precious water world.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthorHouse
    Release dateJan 16, 2013
    ISBN9781481703802
    Sailing Tales from an Old Salt
    Author

    Mark Rowley

    Sir Mark is the commissioner of the Metropolitan Police. His highly successful 31-year career in policing included posts as Chief Constable of Surrey, Assistant Commissioner at the Metropolitan Police and lastly head of UK Counter Terrorism Policing. Globally recognised for his leadership expertise in national security and policing, in 2018, Sir Mark was knighted in Her Majesty the Queen’s Birthday Honours for his “exceptional contribution to national security at a time of unprecedented threat and personally providing reassuring national leadership through the attacks of 2017”.

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      Book preview

      Sailing Tales from an Old Salt - Mark Rowley

      AuthorHouse™

      1663 Liberty Drive

      Bloomington, IN 47403

      www.authorhouse.com

      Phone: 1-800-839-8640

      © 2013 by Mark Rowley. All rights reserved.

      No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

      Published by AuthorHouse 01/09/2013

      ISBN: 978-1-4817-0379-6 (sc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4817-0380-2 (e)

      Library of Congress Control Number: 2012924385

      Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

      Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

      Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

      My Captain

      He and I have sailed many thousands of miles offshore for 40+ years. We have survived many a storm both inside and outside the vessel. But, throughout it all, you are and always will be, my captain, Joseph E. Rowley.

      I would certainly extend this book by more than a few pages if I was to mention the memorable people in my sailing life but would certainly be remiss by not mentioning Captain Jack Barton. Captain Jack is a clever man whose sense of humor helped bring mine out.

      Sailors are not any more superstitious than the average person; it’s just that they, as a lot, are more exposed to Mother Nature. If something walks through the door that you don’t understand, it may be rationalized by the end of the day under the umbrella of superstition.

      I have sailed the Atlantic, Caribbean and the Gulf of Mexico for many years and have heard of many and have witnessed some of the sea-faring superstitions. There is of course, the telling of sea-faring superstitions and then there is the actual experience of the superstition.

      The telling of the superstition is much more pleasant when it involves alcohol and rambunctious, lively conversation, usually at a run-down bar, close to the water. After all, an entertaining tale never starts with a narrative of the consumption of a salad. The other is not pleasant and comes at you with no warning, with a roar!

      The crew was involved in such a conversation except that we were sitting in the cockpit on board the ship Mavournin, a 52’ foot ketch—rigged sailboat (2nd mast is stepped forward of the helm) docked at the yacht club in Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas.

      As an off-shore sailing crew we were a diverse group of sailors, three of us with extensive off-shore experience, two of us with none. Matt (a sailing buddy), brother Sam and myself have been sailing for 30+ years, while my brother Evan and brother-in-law Gordon had some experience day sailing in lakes in New England.

      The plan was to leave St. Thomas on Friday and cross the Caribbean to a town in southern Venezuela called Puerto La Cruz. The dates had been decided based on the projected schedule of the Trade Winds. In this trip it would be the Christmas Trade Winds and thus a broad reach, translation, a fast, smooth, trouble-free sail through paradise.

      Mavournin was built in 1986 by Shannon Boat Company in Portsmouth, Rhode Island and was designed to be comfortable and able to handle heavy weather.

      During that evening the last minute details were worked out with various topics of conversation. During the discussion of cooking, Evan had heard that at night, flying fish will land on the deck and thus proposed pan-fried fish for breakfast. Matt informed Evan that if a sailor eats flying fish, he is doomed to die by drowning. This brought up the subject of starting the trip on Friday which, once again, Matt and I objected to. As a compromise we all agreed that Friday we would sail to St. Croix, spend the night there which was on the Rume Line to our destination in Venezuela. The next day we would continue non-stop across the Caribbean to Venezuela. Unfortunately for us, Neptune was watching.

      One of the oldest sailing superstitions is: Never start a journey on a Friday.

      Everyone left the cockpit after a bit except for Sam and Evan who wanted to stay a bit longer. I knew this would probably be trouble but I stopped giving big brother advice about 15 years ago.

      Sam and I shared the mid-ship cabin, which had bed bunks. Evan and Gordon were in the forward cabin with Matt in the aft cabin. I climbed into the top bunk and quickly fell asleep until I was awakened by the sound of water. The sound of water inside any ship, of any kind, would grab my attention but this one sounded like a horse urinating on a flat rock. I opened my eyes to see Evan, sleepwalking or half awake, had mistaken our cabin for the forward head. His shoulders were eye level to me, with the cabin door open, urinating on a box of cassettes owned by Sam. I pushed on his shoulders and yelled, "This is not a

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