Early in an August morning, I boarded the South Shore and found an old orange seat suitable for the ride. I was ready for my adventure. I was going to see what life was like on tall ships that sailed the Great Lakes.
The train set out from the station promptly at 8:48am. It crept around corners and made its way out of the city to pick up its passengers for the day. We were all bound for the same destination, Chicago. The train rode the rails, slowed and stopped, picking up a few more people before it resumed its journey. We were all huddled together, arm to arm with strangers. Three hours later, we came to our final stop. Everyone emerged from the silver and orange cans, stretching and yawning as they cattled along the platform towards the windy city above.
Free, I walked up and over the bridge towards the big wheel, an icon of Chicago’s Navy Pier; that was my inevitable final destination. The tall ships of Navy Pier were there. I made my way through the hustle and bustle of cars and strangers walking and jogging and biking. Thirty minutes later, I arrived. I bought my ticket and entered the Pier.
The sun beat down on me and I was hungry from the long ride and walk in the city. I found Harry Caray’s and ordered a club sandwich and a glass of Goose Island 312. In the heat of the day, the beer was crisp and refreshing. I sipped it, had a bite of my club, and then took another sip. If only all days were like this! When finished, I paid and moved my way towards the end of the pier where the ships were docked and the racing took place. I was ready to see what life was like on the tall ships.
Donning my blue wristband, I entered the restricted grounds guarded by three volunteers needing people to open their bags for inspection. People moved to and fro on this special part of the boardwalk, eyes wide open, looking at the racers competing for points in the water and listening to the announcers.
But racing wasn’t all to this festival. It was the tall ships that drew me. Long ships. Old ships. New ships. Ships crewed by the young and ships crewed by women. Ships from Norway and Canada, and ships from the Great Lakes. Ships with masts reaching points high above. Replicas of old ships long since forgotten. My camera became my eye, capturing what I saw and wanted to learn and remember.
Each of the seven ships teemed with crews and voluteers waiting to greet thousands of strangers and let them tour their aquatic homes. In line, sounds of anxious kids intermingled with the creaks of the ever-so-taught lines that bound the ships to shore. We all watched as others boarded for tours. When I was finally on board, and the land lover in me had his sea legs, the captain and crew answered questions and told stories of life aboard the Peacemaker or the Flagship Niagara or the Sorlandet or the Madeline. I learned about responsibilities, cooking, eating, sleeping, working, sewing, and making. I saw their homes, the homes they shared with multiple people.
Causes of ED * High blood pressure* High cholesterol* Diabetes* Obesity* ArteriosclerosisMany a time these symptoms are unknown to you and ED can be the viagra online no prescriptions first warning of these symptoms existing. Additional therapy levitra fast shipping for ED is vacuum constriction devices, and intracavernous injection therapy. Person may have free cialis to treat the problem of erectile dysfunction. cialis is a phosphodiesterase type5 (PDE5) inhibitor. Losing Self Respect and Pride How would a potential laser therapy patient identify a competent laser hair therapist? What follows is a checklist of things to consider. http://amerikabulteni.com/2011/11/24/rhythm-of-the-universe-sings-for-van-one-for-all-all-for-van/ pills cialis
All seven ship crews were part of a culture that was foreign to this land lover. My life was different from theirs. At the end of the day, I would leave Chicago and come home to my 100 year-old house. My house won’t relocate itself every week or need ropes to keep it from running away in the middle of the night. Nor do I need to descend into a five-foot tall room to eat and sleep. And I wholeheartedly do not need to walk the ropes on high and untangle sails at any point during my day. But at the end of their day, each and every person responsible for that ship was still on that ship.
Crewing tall ships is a culture of camaraderie, trust, and little to no private space. Crews rely on one another to make voyages happen, with a captain making sure their crew is at their best at all times since one life is dependent upon another. It is a hard life, a rough life; a life where roots may not be set all too often. Crews came from different points of call, brought together with the same love and passion of living on the water and sharing their experiences with others.
However, I figured out one thing that might make life on deck worthwhile. Every day, these custodians of these ever-so-tall ships see sunrises and sunsets unique to different shores: sunrises and sunsets from the deep and wide lakes and from the small and large cities. How many times can I say that I watched the sun rise from a different place each week of my life? The sun rises and I feel refreshed, ready to face the world and conquer my tasks. Yet, day after day I take it for granted and have forgotten that the sunrise and sunset actually occurs. My life begins in the bright sunshine and ends in the blackness of the night. When did the sun rise? When did it set?
That might be the wonderment of life on board these tall ships, ships bound for new harbors and new festivals each week of the month, each month of the year, each year different from the last. These crews see the sun rise and sun set and live by its location; when all else fails, the sun guides them to near and distant shores. Those experiences are their roots, roots they take with them wherever they may go.
Then again, the sun they see and the sun I see are one and the same.
[portfolio_slideshow size=large]