Since I arrived in Rockland about three weeks ago, we have had absolutely beautiful weather. This has been great, as it's allowed us to get a whole lot done on the boat, but it's also kind of sucked, as every waking daylight hour (or so it seems) has been spent doing just that. On my weekends home, I've had just about enough time to do all the choir stuff that makes my mom happy and maybe do a little bit of laundry if I stay up late before getting up at 5 Monday morning to drive back here. As a result, things like getting a haircut, opening a checking account, getting new glasses, buying gear, blogging, getting my car registered in Maine, menu planning, researching food purveyors and shaving my legs have all been on the back burner for awhile.
Luckily, today the weather is absolute crap. We put in a morning's worth of work varnishing our rowboat and helping our carpenter with some big pieces of wood and were then turned loose to enjoy our "afternoon off." So far I've been able to knock a few things off my to do list, and once I work up the courage to brave the downpour and get some more things out of my car I'll be golden.
Rather than try and write about the last few weeks at any great length, here's a list of things I've learned so far:
1. The boat only seems small until you realize you have to sand and paint the entire thing.
2. If Jan says "Smell this!" the correct response is always, "No." Always.
3. Good shallots are not available in this part of the country, and it's a sign of dubious character that one would even want them.
4. A nine-year absence from the state of Maine effectively revokes one's "native" status, making me now officially "from Texas."
5. If the captain says, "Hey Ria- I've got a fun job for you!" the correct response is to don as much protective clothing as I can get my hands on before even asking what I'm about to have to do. [fun jobs to date: cleaning the bilge, powerwashing the hull (which actually was fun,) and cleaning the soot out of the charlie nobles (schooner-speak for stovepipes.)]
6. It's called a "boom" because that's the sound one's head makes when one fails to duck under it for the third time in an hour.
7. I am not in nearly as good physical condition as I thought I was.
8. It is not as easy as it looks. Ever.
9. My job rocks.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Welcome!
As promised, here's the schooner blog.
A bit about me for those of you who don't know: My name is Ria, I'm twenty-something years old, and I cook for a living. I tend to be a bit of a wanderer, I'm always up for an adventure, and when I grow up, I hope to be a pirate. I spent the last few years in Austin, TX where I attended Texas Culinary Academy. For my externship, I called in a favor from an old friend of my parents who had once told me "if you ever want a gig cooking on a windjammer in Maine..." April 7th, I packed my cat and everything I own into my Saturn and drove north.
I should probably tell you at this point that the largest sefaring vessel I have ever helped operate is a canoe. In the interest of full disclosure, I'll also say that I'm about 20 pounds overweight, and while I'm pretty strong when it comes to lifting a stockpot or doing a hundred knee bends a night to reach into a low-boy, I couldn't do a pull-up to save my life.
So I went from working insane hours indoors, never seeing the sun, and going home to my cat and a couple absentee roommates to working insane hours outdoors in the sun and crashing out in a 2br apartment with 6 other schooner bums. I've got to say that so far it's a change for the better. (BTW, my cat is livin' large with my parents in southern Maine.)
With any luck, this blog will be an account of how one pudgy hash-slinger transformes into a skilled, knowledgable and fantastically fit sailor, learning many life lessons along the way. Or maybe it will end up being a comical tale of hubris and humble pie served up on a woodstove. Probably a little of both.
A bit about me for those of you who don't know: My name is Ria, I'm twenty-something years old, and I cook for a living. I tend to be a bit of a wanderer, I'm always up for an adventure, and when I grow up, I hope to be a pirate. I spent the last few years in Austin, TX where I attended Texas Culinary Academy. For my externship, I called in a favor from an old friend of my parents who had once told me "if you ever want a gig cooking on a windjammer in Maine..." April 7th, I packed my cat and everything I own into my Saturn and drove north.
I should probably tell you at this point that the largest sefaring vessel I have ever helped operate is a canoe. In the interest of full disclosure, I'll also say that I'm about 20 pounds overweight, and while I'm pretty strong when it comes to lifting a stockpot or doing a hundred knee bends a night to reach into a low-boy, I couldn't do a pull-up to save my life.
So I went from working insane hours indoors, never seeing the sun, and going home to my cat and a couple absentee roommates to working insane hours outdoors in the sun and crashing out in a 2br apartment with 6 other schooner bums. I've got to say that so far it's a change for the better. (BTW, my cat is livin' large with my parents in southern Maine.)
With any luck, this blog will be an account of how one pudgy hash-slinger transformes into a skilled, knowledgable and fantastically fit sailor, learning many life lessons along the way. Or maybe it will end up being a comical tale of hubris and humble pie served up on a woodstove. Probably a little of both.
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