I envy your mother for getting over her seasickness. I never have. My dad and brother loved sailing lousy weather in this channel. My mom and I preferred to sit in the Yacht Club and watch the soap opera of Santa Barbara yacht owners. I still get seasick. My husband and I have our very own book club, just the two of us. His suggestion this month was Two Years Before the Mast which neither of us had read. Just the title brought on my seasickness. But I did take my mom on a steamboat up the Mississippi for her 75th birthday. It was bliss for both of us, just moseying along, eating Jambalaya and Étoufée, reciting to each other our favorite scenes from Mark Twain, listening to the crew's ghost stories because Southerners all have them and occasionally getting on land to visit a river town to attend a gospel service or walk around a plantation (more ghost stories).
My dad and I took vacations together when I was a kid travelling up the New England coast and then into Canada. At the start of our trip, we decided to go deep sea fishing off the coast of Maine. Fishing consisted of a drop line (no casting). When the boat stopped at a fishing spot we dropped our lines. The boat rolled in the water and my dad got very sick and spent the trip vomiting. The rolling boat didn't bother me. My dad was a fisherman but enjoyed casting for fish in the stream. He had a tackle box for fly fishing. Ann, my wife, said she was "talking" to my dad when she was taking a shower. She commented on my dad telling her, "It's not necessarily the catching of a fish, but rather the process." Funny, this sounded like something my dad would have said <g>. Ann never met my dad, nor did she know of his fishing.
Great Story…reminded me of my Grandfather courting my future Grandmother in a small wooden sail boat on Lake Michigan more than 100 years ago…Love on the lake!
PS…boats are expensive…BOAT —> ‘Bust Out Another Thousand’
I really enjoyed the story about your dad’s love for the sea and your mom’s supportive spirit. It brought back fond memories of my own childhood in New England. Thank you for sharing that.
Calla, beautiful review of your family life. I especially liked your father's transition from Madison Ave to ship chandler - good for him! Reminds me of a line by Ann Savage in 'Detour'
- "Life's like a ball game. You gotta take a swing at whatever comes along before you wake up and find it's the ninth inning."
The last place left in America to "homestead" is the moorage, that orphaned area outside the harbor where random boats are anchored, threatening to wash up onto the beach in the next storm. No fees, no taxes, accessible only by a tiny skiff to get back and forth to the dock for supplies. Back in the 1980's I became acquainted with a formerly homeless fellow who traded his last remaining possession, a ratty panel van, for a 40' wooden sailing ship that became his pirate kingdom. I spent an afternoon on it, memorably hauling my first Irish Wolfhound aboard and drinking with the assorted winos who were calling themselves crew. Then one day it disappeared, and word was Captain Billy had pulled out and in company with an underage girl and headed off for points South. I did not believe it was seaworthy. Shiver me timbers.
I recall when I was a kid in the mid-1950's, while waiting to get on a steamship ferry to Nantucket from Boston, the ferry lobby provided free pinball games which I enjoyed immensely<g>. I loved to watch the workings of the steam engine on the ferry to Nantucket. My grandfather on my dad's side I never met. He was the steam engineer (operating and performing repairs) for a Boston aristocrat that owned a steam-powered schooner. Granddad also performed machine shop work for the aristocrat's hobbies which included developing a steam-powered truck. He worked a good part of his life for this aristocrat. My hunch is my granddad married a daughter of an aristocrat. His employer also turned out to be an inventor, named David Mason Little. Little was also a photographer and silversmith but enjoyed photographing boats. Moving boats would cause a blur with existing photographic techniques. So Little invented a new camera shutter, patent US 284645A. At this time more sensitive glass plates were developed, too. I looked up his camera shutter patent and there was no prior art. Little was an MIT trained naval architect, military officer, historian, temporary mayor of Salem, etc.
Funny that a hobby of mine back in the 1970's was building a steam-powered power plant for a vehicle. Must be in the genes.
Yes, Polly. I was born with a tiller in my hand. Taught my 3 children how to sail. My son, Keith, crossed the Pacific in his 26 ft. sloop at age 22. Now he's charted a boat in Alaska for 3 months‼️
I envy your mother for getting over her seasickness. I never have. My dad and brother loved sailing lousy weather in this channel. My mom and I preferred to sit in the Yacht Club and watch the soap opera of Santa Barbara yacht owners. I still get seasick. My husband and I have our very own book club, just the two of us. His suggestion this month was Two Years Before the Mast which neither of us had read. Just the title brought on my seasickness. But I did take my mom on a steamboat up the Mississippi for her 75th birthday. It was bliss for both of us, just moseying along, eating Jambalaya and Étoufée, reciting to each other our favorite scenes from Mark Twain, listening to the crew's ghost stories because Southerners all have them and occasionally getting on land to visit a river town to attend a gospel service or walk around a plantation (more ghost stories).
Merci Polly. So glad you enjoyed! Calla
Do you sail, Calla?
My dad and I took vacations together when I was a kid travelling up the New England coast and then into Canada. At the start of our trip, we decided to go deep sea fishing off the coast of Maine. Fishing consisted of a drop line (no casting). When the boat stopped at a fishing spot we dropped our lines. The boat rolled in the water and my dad got very sick and spent the trip vomiting. The rolling boat didn't bother me. My dad was a fisherman but enjoyed casting for fish in the stream. He had a tackle box for fly fishing. Ann, my wife, said she was "talking" to my dad when she was taking a shower. She commented on my dad telling her, "It's not necessarily the catching of a fish, but rather the process." Funny, this sounded like something my dad would have said <g>. Ann never met my dad, nor did she know of his fishing.
Wonderful story, thank you for sharing.
Wonderful walk down memory lane Pol.
Thank you, Mr. Brown, all credit to Calla who lead me there with her lovely piece.
Great Story…reminded me of my Grandfather courting my future Grandmother in a small wooden sail boat on Lake Michigan more than 100 years ago…Love on the lake!
PS…boats are expensive…BOAT —> ‘Bust Out Another Thousand’
Merci DL! CJC
Great social story!!!
Always items like this do not need embellishment.
Thanks
You're welcome. Happy that you enjoyed! CJC
A lovely read to start the day. Thanks Calla.
Merci Monica!CJC
Merci Monica! CJC
A nice change of pace and bringing a wood boat back to life is joyful.
Merci Walter! CJC
I really enjoyed the story about your dad’s love for the sea and your mom’s supportive spirit. It brought back fond memories of my own childhood in New England. Thank you for sharing that.
— Dana
Merci Dana! CJC
Calla, beautiful review of your family life. I especially liked your father's transition from Madison Ave to ship chandler - good for him! Reminds me of a line by Ann Savage in 'Detour'
- "Life's like a ball game. You gotta take a swing at whatever comes along before you wake up and find it's the ninth inning."
How right she (and your father) was!
Detour - great Edgar Ulmer movie.
Merci Earl! Calla
The last place left in America to "homestead" is the moorage, that orphaned area outside the harbor where random boats are anchored, threatening to wash up onto the beach in the next storm. No fees, no taxes, accessible only by a tiny skiff to get back and forth to the dock for supplies. Back in the 1980's I became acquainted with a formerly homeless fellow who traded his last remaining possession, a ratty panel van, for a 40' wooden sailing ship that became his pirate kingdom. I spent an afternoon on it, memorably hauling my first Irish Wolfhound aboard and drinking with the assorted winos who were calling themselves crew. Then one day it disappeared, and word was Captain Billy had pulled out and in company with an underage girl and headed off for points South. I did not believe it was seaworthy. Shiver me timbers.
Lovely memories. Thank you for sharing the tale.
Merci Mathew! CJC
Merci! Calla
I recall when I was a kid in the mid-1950's, while waiting to get on a steamship ferry to Nantucket from Boston, the ferry lobby provided free pinball games which I enjoyed immensely<g>. I loved to watch the workings of the steam engine on the ferry to Nantucket. My grandfather on my dad's side I never met. He was the steam engineer (operating and performing repairs) for a Boston aristocrat that owned a steam-powered schooner. Granddad also performed machine shop work for the aristocrat's hobbies which included developing a steam-powered truck. He worked a good part of his life for this aristocrat. My hunch is my granddad married a daughter of an aristocrat. His employer also turned out to be an inventor, named David Mason Little. Little was also a photographer and silversmith but enjoyed photographing boats. Moving boats would cause a blur with existing photographic techniques. So Little invented a new camera shutter, patent US 284645A. At this time more sensitive glass plates were developed, too. I looked up his camera shutter patent and there was no prior art. Little was an MIT trained naval architect, military officer, historian, temporary mayor of Salem, etc.
Funny that a hobby of mine back in the 1970's was building a steam-powered power plant for a vehicle. Must be in the genes.
Yes, Polly. I was born with a tiller in my hand. Taught my 3 children how to sail. My son, Keith, crossed the Pacific in his 26 ft. sloop at age 22. Now he's charted a boat in Alaska for 3 months‼️