by Reed Olsen '09
June 8–Port of Albany Finals ended yesterday. But for me and 11 other students, it will soon be a mad rush to complete our first lab on scurvy.
We meet the crew and our new home for the next few weeks; all of a sudden eighty-feet of wooden ship seems mighty…cozy.
We waste no time learning how to wrap rope and some line handling techniques. I have sailing experience, but nothing on like a square rig “living museum” such as this. Even the navigational tools are authentic from the 1600s.
My eyes are focused on the mast and the ropes leading up to it. The ship is a complex matrix of lines and pulleys. I also enjoy rock climbing and heights, and I want to dash up it as fast as possible. But climbing will have to wait till another day.
This is a chance to relive history, and do some actually environmental science work, which is I guess why I signed up.
Back in Schenectady, my attention would fade after three hours in a lab, however, in the field the work makes more sense. This is my chance to see what truly interests me.
After dinner everything settles down, and another reality check hits me fast; how dependent we are on light. Just like life in the 1600s, when the sun goes down it gets very dark. However, unlike Hudson's crew, we get the eerie glow from Albany.
True to 1600s living conditions, we sleep out in the open on the deck. If it rains we have the option of cramming in a small space below deck. I settle down to sleep on the anchor rope, which is surprisingly comfy, no complaints. I am over six feet. The distance between the floor and ceiling below deck is four. The moment when I first hit my head is imminent.
June 9–Hudson River
We get going at 7 a.m. I am at the helm. While it sounds great, it really isn't the most thrilling job on the ship. All I can see is the mast, so I move the tiller on the captain's command. Later, with much relief, I move to lookout, where I will report incoming objects to the captain.
On bilge duty, we check below deck to make sure the water level in the ship hasn't changed. We run the engine (one of the only concessions to modern sailing) when the wind does not cooperate, and a small generator powers the oven and a few lights. (Not entirely historic, but we all like warm food).
One of the most important tasks is galley duty. At sea, you basically schedule your day around meals. The cook's name is Rosemary and she is so sweet. I want her to be my grandmother.
June 10–Hudson River
We drop anchor at the Palisades, the sheer cliffs on the West side of the Hudson River. This is the first time I have seen them close up, and at our angle they make your jaw drop.
As a modern marine laboratory, the ship is equipped with instruments for reading the dissolved oxygen, and salinity of the water. We take readings every 45 minutes, and by the end of the trip we will graph these changes.
Yesterday we passed West Point, and a site that held great importance during the Revolutionary War. Being one of the narrowest parts of the Hudson, a chain was draped on the river floor to stop ships from moving up the Hudson River; and as a boat approached donkeys would pull this chain taught, not allowing any boat to pass. While I thought this was ingenious, I struggled to imagine a chain that big or the number of donkeys required for the job.
We can see NYC past the George Washington Bridge. To one side is the nearly pristine undeveloped New Jersey riverbank, and to the other we have New York City.
Once all the anchors are deployed I climb up and roll up the sails. The view from the top of the ship can be described as epic. The wood supporting you is rocking up and down from all the wind, and the waves only improve upon the experience. Being up there is humbling.
June 12–Connecticut River
Sailing into the Connecticut River is beautiful, and the weather is great. The mouth of the river almost feels like the ocean, as the land appears to be a faded image on the horizon.
One component of this trip is to write a report on a topic of our choosing. Mine will be about human effects on the estuaries with respect to eutrophication, a process by which an overabundance of nutrients can kill almost all aerobic life in the water. This topic is important to the understanding of the impact of large metropolitan centers on the estuaries. It is so relaxing out here. Your mind has so much time to wonder and enjoy all the simple things. I packed very light and had spare room for my sketch book, but it can be hard to run below deck to grab it when you don't want to miss a moment of what's all around you.
June 14–Connecticut River
Today we begin our trek up the Connecticut River. We plan to go as far as possible, but unfortunately a bridge will eventually stop us. The Connecticut River is very pretty, and the entire atmosphere of an area changes when you are on the water. The reading and lectures are having an effect on me, and I'm critically observing everything, and note the phargmites on the shores of the marshes.
Even though this area is developed, it is teaming with wildlife, and we saw a snake swimming in the water that was about a long as I am tall. The sight that caught me by surprise was to see a Bald Eagle swoop down and return again into the trees right in my line of sight. The bird's presence is amazing, especially due to its immense size.
June 15–Connecticut River
We take off in the Zodiac to study the marshlands. We come to a large island and navigate though an area comparable to what you might imagine the Amazon to be. This place is absolutely saturated with life, with vines, covered with spiders, covering the trees. Lily pads obscure the water. When you hop out of the boat into the river, bubbles come up from under your feet from all the methane gas being produced by bacteria. It is very wild, and being in the marshlands on a quiet, sunny day is extraordinary.
Back on the ship we had a history lecture concerning the Native Americans of the Northeast, and what happened to them as a result of colonization from the Dutch and English. The Dutch created strong trading alliances with Native Americans; it was the Dutch way to establish contact, trade, but never take over. In contrast, for the British it was a simple policy of assuming absolute control over an area and keeping it that way.
June 16–Atlantic Ocean
By mid day we are on the open ocean, with a direct course to the Delaware Bay. The ocean is a world of difference from the rivers. We are now getting rocked in all directions. From 30 to 40 miles off the shoreline our ship seems so small. The ocean is so vast and stretches as far as the eye can see. When the sun sets, the waves light up electrically.
June 17–Atlantic Ocean
This is the second day out on the water. We are far out of the sight of land, in a boat that was designed four-hundred years ago. The helm and lookout position have become less fun because nothing happens. The best part about the sea is the night. No matter where you look, the universe is lit up.
June 18–Delaware Bay
We arrive in Delaware Bay. Before we drop anchor, we swim. Docking reminds me that we are a floating circus attraction, a Disney ride, and even though we are in a less populated part of the bay, there is a line of cars with people who want to get pictures of the ship. The University of Delaware has let us use their dock, and we will be attending lectures at the school in the next few days.
Outside by the dock, they have a huge whale vertebrate, which is the part where the head would meet the spine. While this thing is a small piece of the entire backbone, it is wider than six feet. From an abstract point of view it is an alien sculpture.
June 19–Delaware Bay
I pull my studious self together to finish my labs so that Professor Weisse will grant my freedom. I grab my sketchbook, charcoal pencil and binoculars and head off to the marsh. I'm out there by myself, it's very quiet, and there are two osprey families in front and in back of me. You would not expect such a soft voice from a bird of prey, and they are so incredibly elegant. At night we go into town to eat, and civilization looks a little drab. This whole experience has been great, and the cell phones and iPods haven't really been missed all that much, but when we first hear a radio in the ice cream parlor, after weeks on board, we are all impressed with how great it sounds.
In contrast, every night on the ship we would all sing together. Professor Wells brought his guitar, and as corny as it sounds, it was great fun, and certainly true to the 1600s.
June 21–Delaware Bay
As we get moving again up to the Delaware River we hope that the flies will die off. Our ship has absolutely been infested with them since we docked at the University of Delaware. In the afternoon I go diving with the captain and some of the crew under the ship to try and fix a clog in the septic system. The romance of sailing.
As dusk hits we are bombarded by a sea of jellyfish, and they are so incredible, swimming in giant packs. I climb down to the water and collect some in a bucket.
June 23–Delaware Bay
Last night was ridiculous. A storm came, a strong one at that, with lightning and everything. Hollywood would have approved. We had drifted across the river and run aground. Things were blowing every which way, and the captain stood his ground and directed us in an orderly fashion, and we functioned in disaster. For all the excitement, I am sure it didn't compare to the original Halfmoon's second trip across the Atlantic, when Hudson had his mast snapped in half during a storm.
Sleepy and exhausted we wake up and try to get the anchors up, but we break the anchor rope in the process. The rope was leveraged against a rock and snapped right before my eyes. This thing is about as thick as my fist, when it snapped I thought the ship was going to snap with it.
Presentations are next; today is just full of excitement. I give mine on eutrophication and how we need to be more responsible to the environment. The presentation that really interested me was Liz's. She covered the impact that colonization had on women of both European and Native American decent. Female Indians used to walk around mostly topless, but with the advent of the colonists, they were fully covered after a few years.
June 23–Delaware Bay
We are docked with one day left. We had a meeting to discuss the highs and lows of the trip and what it meant for us.
Lows: Everything started very fast and we were going crazy. Many kids were turned off to all the science, and there was quite a bit.
Highs: More than once people said that this has been one of the best experiences of their lives.
I learned a lot on the trip. You rarely make conclusions about life, or the world around you, in lecture halls. My friend, Greg, put it well when he said, “I was that guy: climbing the mast, smelling the sea air and tying a bowline, double half hitch or square knot.”
It is going to take me a while to fully digest this trip. This whole time was great and I made 12 new friends. I'm really gonna miss Rosemary's cooking.
June 24–Delaware Bay
We clean like we are on a mission. The bus is coming soon and this ship needs to be clean. We fire off the Dutch cannon. This thing rocks you, a great way to end the trip. The bus comes and we load up our bags. Now I can't wait to start the summer vacation.