Written by: Dirk Lorenzo
Sailing our barque around the world one could easily think that attending to the ship and her current voyage would be just about enough to keep one busy. But think again; in Picton Castle, one voyage is not just that; one voyage. It is also the leadup to the next voyage. And while we have not published a concrete itinerary for what is happening after this, World Voyage 8, one thing is for certain: we will be sailing deep sea and the ship will need sails. It stands to reason.
With proper care and upkeep, our cotton canvas sails give us a good and long life of service. While considrered hopelessly out of date to use cotton, this natural fabric has some distinct advantages over dacron. Some of our (now) light trade wind canvas is coming up to 20 years. That’s quite something. Being exposed to wind, weather and the destructive UV rays from the sun makes for a hard life, even before you introduce the wear and tear resulting from being used as intended, and on a training ship, no less.
Perfect for a force 4-5 on the quarter they are. You wouldn’t want your best suit bent in the area of trades as calms are a regular occurrence and slatting sails chafe a lot as the ship rolls on a windless ocean. Better to use the older suit. Been done by sailing ships throughout the ages and this here barque, the last “P-Liner,” as it were, is no exception.
The heavier stuff we bend outside the Tropics, mainly for the North Atlantic and Southern Ocean, is of course much newer and made of stout, good sail cloth. Some of cotton (now hard to source), some made from Duradon, a synthetic cloth that still has that canvas look and feel. Mostly. Applicable to all our sails is one thing, however: they are not bought in a shop around the corner at the strip mall. Or even run up in a commercial sail loft. We make our own, either on board during a voyage or during a special Bosun School session back in Lunenburg. And have always done so. This may be the last one of the square riggers at sea making her own sails.
One of the last Bosun School sessions was dedicated to sailmaking. During that session, much good work was done mending and maintaining Picton Castle’s extensive sail inventory. Now, however, looking further ahead, the time had come to lay out some new sails. Carpe Diem. Make hay while the sun shines… Ever onward.
And where better to do this than on a perfectly level, quiet and spacious concrete dock in downtown Papeete right next to the ship. Swept clean for the occasion by our gang, Lisa front and centre. Much to the surprise of some local port workers who enquired if we took exception to the dock’s cleanliness. Our explanation surprised them even more. Sail making? Well, there is another story to be told, some other time, perhaps.
So, on a beautifully sunny Saturday morning in the port of Papeete, Tahiti, Pearl of the South Seas, after taking some final measurements aloft along the yard, we marked up the basic outline of an upper tops’l, in coloured chalk, on the (now clean) concrete. All was laid along and ready on the dock with a sizeable, curious gang in attendence, ready to learn and get involved.
It is all too easy to lose oneself in the work of laying out sail. Or any work, really. But care to look up from the task at hand, however, and you notice, in the background, parts of the old and historic schooner dock still in evidence: gently curving, following the old shoreline, only a couple of feet above water level. Picton Castle used to go stern-to and tie up to palm trees with an anchor out there in the past, as did other world roving ships of note: Yankee, Romance, Wanderer, Te Vega, Tiare Taporo, Tiare Tahiti, Tagua, et al, alongside the local cargo and copra schooners that were the lifeblood of European driven island trading for so long. But now the space has been given over to a marina with floating pontoon docks populated mostly by fibreglass cruising yachts and catamarans. The wooden schooners have long vanished and trade by sea is conducted by large ubiquitous steel ships in fenced off port facilities.
Adjacent the old dock, palm trees line the waterfront esplanade, providing but a narrow buffering strip of green to Papeete’s roaring traffic along the Boulevard de la Reine Pomare. Traffic noise, sirens. Everyone seems to be on the move in Papeete, mostly in motorised vehicles: cars, trucks, vans, scooters, motorbikes and buses. From early morning till late at night. But back to our gang on the dock.
Cloth after cloth was rolled out, cut and marked. Two new upper topsl’s took shape in a first layout, both made from heavyweight white Duradon. While Edmund, Liam and others were rolling out the cloth, Violet, Rachel and Clara were taking turns marking and cutting it with a sharp Bali knife, just like butter. George, Leo, Toad, Sophia, Alex and others were weighing down the cloth and marking the strikeups with pencil. Captain Moreland making the design decisions and teaching us all how to lay out a sail.
To mark the occasion, our bulky and mighty 7- series Singer sewing machine, circa 1930s vintage, was brought up from Picton Castle’s hold and set up on the dock in anticipation of machine seaming the cloth, quickly and without fuss. These machines were very common in commercial sail lofts in the time of canvas sails and they are now treasured by those who are lucky enough to have one in captivity. Soon it was assembled and rattled along nicely enough during some short test stitching, but later, when offered the actual sail-to-be, decided to turn recalcitrant. Oh well. So, instead of having a combination of machine and hand seaming, these new upper topsl’s will be likely fully hand seamed and finished. And, with many an aspiring assistant sailmaker on board, this is fine, too. The Singer will re-appear at a suitable time to have its malaise ironed out. All this in a day’s work. Who said that a sailor’s life was repetitive and boring?
So the new tops’ls were carefully labelled and stowed in the sole for the time being, and a spare, old upper tops’l in need of mending was brought up and worked on instead by second assistant sailmaker Rachel, to see out the day. Good to have spares.
Next morning, Sunday, another sail was laid out, by a smaller gang. This an inner jib, a workhorse aboard, used for manoeuvring (conventional, tried and trusted mark one wind driven bow thruster) and passage making alike. Lightweight Duradon was chosen for it, and the first layout was completed, from marking up on the “loft” floor in chalk to having the cloth cut and marked, in under three hours. Not too bad when one keeps in mind that these occasions are also training sessions for the interested. Dustin was given the honour of cutting the final cloth for this sail with a French Opinel pocket knife sent to Lunenburg with two matching others from, you guessed it, Tasmania. Tasmania?
Three young lads, brothers, now deemed old enough for their first pocket knife, are eagerly following Picton Castle‘s track around the world knowing that, on board her, are their future knives being suitably seasoned. Their dad, by the way, a former Bosun of the replica of Cook’s Endeavour, their mum a former Topman. Seasoned sailors both.
All up, we now have a whole array of sails that need finishing: two lower tops’ls (which have had their second layout and are nearing completion), one Duradon t’gallant, two upper tops’ls, one mizzen topmast staysail and one inner jib. Other sails will be laid out as opportunity presents itself. The weather and sun bleached labels on Picton Castle’s sails speak volumes: Cape Town, New Orleans, Trans-Atlantic Voyage, World Voyage 3, Suva, New Zealand… and so it goes. Picton Castle‘s sails were laid out and made on concrete and wooden docks, on beaches, in hospitable yacht clubs and function centres, in disused historic buildings, in empty cruise ship terminals and all manner of other locations around the world. And Picton Castle’s quarterdeck will be a busy sailmaking place again once we depart Papeete for sea, just as it has been on every previous voyage as a sailing ship, and since the ship sailed out of Panama on this voyage. Nothing like a sunny and breezy day making sails on board a ship at sea.