Weekender: Travel: Swab shop; BOB BLAIR HAS A MARITIME ON THE TALL SHIP STAVROS.
Byline: BOB BLAIRTWO hundred years ago Admiral Horatio Nelson, Britain's greatest naval hero, was shot during the Battle of Trafalgar.
They took his body back to Gibraltar in a barrel of brandy before being transported, preserved this time in the finest wine, to London for a glittering state funeral.
Perched 100ft above the deck on the upper topsail yardarm of a Tall Ship in a Force 4 wind, I could have done with a brandy to preserve my nerves as we stowed the sails.
I had joined the crew of Stavros S Niarchos to sail 500 miles from Alcudia in the north of Majorca, round the Balearics, down the Spanish coast past Cartagena and Malaga, and along the northern shores of Morocco into Gibraltar.
Our ship Stavros was a magnificent 60-metre square-rigged sail training vessel. Operated under the guidance of the Tall Ships Youth Trust, it accommodates a crew of 60.
A week at sea on an elegant brig like Stavros, or its sister ship Prince William, is not so much a holiday as a real-life adventure. Especially for a landlubber like me who didn't know his starboard bow from his elbow when we first set sail.
The storm hit us on the fourth day. Captain Liam Keating, a remarkable character who made a complete recovery from a broken neck in his early 20s, had warned during our morning briefing: "She's going to pitch like a bitch." And he was right.
By early afternoon we were being hammered by 50mph winds which whipped the sea into a frenzy of white foam as the Force 10 storm broke over us.
I had joined Blue Watch and it was up to us to helm and act as lookouts as 20ft waves made the skipper's prediction a reality.
It was a fantastic experience as spray crashed the length of the boat. Stavros, engine growling and snarling in defiance, plunged and reared to fight doggedly forward at five knots an hour. The wind howled and the propellers shrieked as the stern lifted clear of the churning sea.
Having not yet found my sea legs, I was put in a harness and tethered to metal bars by a two-inch thick rope to stop me slithering about during my spell at the helm.
The two lookouts, Becky and Izzie, were in their positions several metres either side of me. We had agreed on a call of "incoming" if the spray from the bow, 40 metres ahead, was going to reach and drench us.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Izzie crouching down undercover, giggling. I cottoned on too late and was soaked from head to toe as a wall of water thundered down - followed by howls of laughter from the girls.
After an hour at the helm I was sent to get a round of teas from the mess - and it was a far from happy scene.
Several poor souls had been feeding the fishes (a polite term for throwing up), and even the ship's medic Caroline had gone a strange greenish colour.
A brave young volunteer, Chris, was attempting to help out in the galley, while lurching wildly from side to side in an effort to stay upright.
The experience was a taster of what these trips are really all about. Behind the romantic view of sailing under canvas on beautiful starlit nights, there is another, much more serious, side to the Tall Ships Youth Trust.
Its aim is to give youngsters from 16-25 the opportunity to work as a close team and experience a challenge that is otherwise out of their reach.
The Trust makes bursaries available to those who need it, and the fees from adult voyages also help to subsidise youngsters.
For the next four months Stavros S Niarchos will be operating a series of voyages for adults and young people in the Mediterranean.
Trips start at just pounds 299 per person, and for that you get seven nights' sailing departing from Naples, three hearty meals a day and as much rum as you can drink.
Actually I just made that last bit up, but at that price you really can't afford to miss this experience. For some, these trips can actually be life changing. James, a champion biker who helps as a volunteer watch leader, told me about one boy who arrived on board as a no-hoper and left with a driving ambition to join the Merchant Marines.
"He's now a naval cadet and I still get messages from him from all over the world," he said proudly.
Then there was a young scallywag from an inner city who, in the first week of a trip to the Azores, contributed nothing but aggravation. But not in the second week.
At twilight one evening, he stood looking over the starboard bow with one of the volunteer crew. The sun had turned the sea into a golden millpond and a shoal of whales surfaced, flipping their tails, blowing, and playing.
The youngster turned and said: "When you see something as beautiful as this, you have to believe there is a God."
Horatio would have been proud.
Diary of a landlubber (aged 50something)
DAY ONE: Learn the ropes after boarding Stavros earlier in the day at Alcudia. We climb the rigging and then up and over the yardarms before learning to stow the sails 100ft above the deck.
DINNER: Steak and chips.
DAY TWO: Sail down coast of Majorca past Soller, where Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones have an estate. The sea's choppy and the fish have already been well fed by two or three of the crew as we clear the Balearics.
DINNER : Steak and kidney pie and mashed potatoes
DAY TWO: Welcome to Happy Hour, which is 60 minutes of housekeeping. Sea sickness doesn't bother me but scrubbing the toilets on my hands and knees is an assault on the senses. DINNER: Roast chicken and all the trimmings.
DAY FOUR: Any port in a storm. We run for Malaga after failing to get a berth in Cartagena and sit it out. Then it's off into the old port for a beer or 10...
DINNER: Pork chops and chips.
DAY FIVE: After the storm the sea is like a millpond as we set sail. Under a blazing sun I actually enjoy swabbing the decks.
DINNER: Spanish chicken, rice.
DAY SIX: Mountains appear on our port side. Dave, a retired master mariner, tells me that Morocco is 76 miles away. Alert is issued on the radio for a scuba-diver in camouflage, missing in Straits of Gibraltar.
DINNER: Spaghetti bolognese.
DAY SEVEN: Finally learn on the last day to duck coming out of the mess. We scrub and clean Stavros from top to bottom before the Governor General of Gibraltar boards from a Royal Navy rib and sails the last three miles into Gib harbour with us. Terra firma at last.
DINNER: Great last night BBQ. GETTING THERE
BOB travelled with Tall Ships Adventures (023 9283 2055/www.tallships.org), part of the Portsmouth-based Tall Ships Youth Trust charity. Tall Ships operates voyages in the Balearics, Canaries and Caribbean as well as around the British Isles. Prices start at pounds 299 for seven nights.
CAPTION(S):
ALL HANDS ON DECK: Bob swabs onboard; HIGH SEAS: Bob 100ft up; BON VOYAGE: Sister ship Prince William
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| Publication: | The Mirror (London, England) |
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| Date: | Jun 4, 2005 |
| Words: | 1219 |
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