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Here are some posts about Lettie G. Howard.
Want to join the crew for a sail to Gloucester for the 2016 schooner race, be part of the race crew, or help sail the 1893 schooner back to NYC’s sixth boro?
You’d be crew in training, integrated into watch-standing along with her professional crew.
On the return, she stops in New London for the Connecticut Maritime Heritage Festival. And all the while, you’d be supporting the good work of South Street Seaport Museum, which has many other unparalleled events coming up in the next few weeks.
Here are the specifics on ticket prices, dates, and itineraries:
The first and last photos here come from Hannah Basch-Gould; all the other have been taken by Will Van Dorp, who on these dates will be gallivanting to francophone Canada in search of Champlain’s dream.
Looking at this set of fotos, words beginning with “w” came to mind. Like wind-swept, an apt way to describe this land’s end called Halibut Point in Rockport, here looking toward Maine. That’s “halibut” as in “haul about,” because as you sail round the point, you’ll encounter different winds. The rockpile is quarried chunks never loaded onto to ships, never built into construction sites.
Wind again comes to mind in this assemblage of traditional and new-fangled means of harnessing it. One is up, and two will follow. Schooners are Highlander Sea and Adventure.
Wavemaster is NOT the familiar name for the 47′ MLB like these, but it should be.
Wake . . . follows codzilla…
OK . . this one’s a stretch, but whenever I see a small RIB like this of the Massachusetts Environmental Police, I think sirens . . . not whistles, but then
there’s a Rupert, a 50′ RIB, and if the previous was whistles, then this is whistles and bells. If anyone’s thinking to give tugster a gift for Christmas, this is tops on my wishlist.
Viking Starliner wandered through the sixth boro the other day, possibly in for some work, but then it headed south . . . Florida-bound?
And finally this, a winter-cold sunrise, taken a week ago with a hint that December is not far off, a year winds down, waning hours of light.
And just apropos of absolutely nothing, had we had a few more hurricanes, we’d have gotten to hurricane William this year.
I lived near Cape Ann for most of the last 15 years of the 20th century, and have to get back now and then.
Few places in the US are as connected to the water as Cape Ann, whether it be churches in Gloucester,
small business icons in Rockport,
or National Endowments for the Arts winners for the oldest profession (really) in Essex.
I was in Gloucester too short this time to meet up with recent friends there, but old friends welcomed me back, like Mount Agamenticus here looming behind the Isles of Shoals and the Boon Island Light, visible but not pictured . . .
as did Thatcher Island.
All fotos this weekend by Will Van Dorp.