Fair Wind and Plenty of It: A Modern-Day Tall Ship Adventure [Hardcover]

The romantic allure of life under sail just seems to increase as our own lives become increasingly dependent upon and dominated by technology. In Fair Wind and Plenty of It: A Modern-Day Tall Ship Adventure, author/sailor Rigel Crockett (his very name sounds like an adventurer's) signs onto the crew of the Picton Castle, a three-masted tall ship headed on a round-the-world voyage. Along with Crockett, the captain of the Picton Castle, Dan Moreland, who converted the ship from a North Sea trawler, is the central figure here. His obsessive and authoritarian nature may have been an asset in getting such an ambitious undertaking underway, but there are times the reader will wish his oft-abused crew would pull a Mutiny on the Bounty-style coup on this latter-day Captain Bligh. (Crockett's own father, a shipbuilder in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, had been scheduled for the voyage, but found Moreland's behaviour impossible to tolerate.) To fund the ship's renovation and the voyage, Moreland took on passengers prepared to fork over $32,500 each to join the journey of the Picton Castle, but life on board was no picnic for them either. Crockett chronicles the on-board tensions effectively, and his detailed descriptions of the gruelling work required will surely deter all but those totally committed to the idea of participating in such an adventure.

Just when the voyage begins to seem like a joint exercise in masochism, the author will launch into an eloquent portrait of scenic beauty or moments of peaceful reflection. At such times, Crockett reveals a poetic side to complement the more direct prose used to describe the work routines. In a letter to his girlfriend, he notes that "maybe it's the mournful halo of luminescence that surrounds our hull, or perhaps it's the languid apathy brought on by the equatorial sun, or the sense of time losing all context that gives me the feeling our ship is coinciding with other planes of existence." It is unfortunate that the all-too-few photos included here are on the murky or bland side, but the author's picturesque style does compensate. Fair Wind and Plenty of It may not have you dashing off to the nearest tall ships recruiting station, but it will prove a satisfying read for those fascinated by the subject. --Kerry Doole

Crockett's engrossing memoir of working on a tall ship as it circumnavigates the globe has more than enough nautical detail for Patrick O'Brian fans, but its lasting pleasures derive from more modern sensibilities. The story begins before the Picton Castle leaves Nova Scotia, as Crockett helps in the preparations, and wonders if the rest of his family will join him on the 18-month journey (they don't). The narrative becomes half travelogue, half personal drama centered on Crockett's struggle to find a sense of belonging on board, juxtaposing the romance of the open seas with his contentious relationship with the captain (who insists the tough discipline will make Crockett a better sailor). Crockett isn't the only one who locks horns with the captain, and he finds room for quick sketches of most of his mates, from the woman who treats the crew to makeovers to the cad who runs off with the ship's cook and $4,000 earmarked for provisions. A professional sailor and first-time author, Crockett vividly portrays the difficulties of living and working with others in cramped quarters, as well as the feeling of abandon that comes upon arrival on land. The sailing elements distinguish the story from other global treks, and the voyage's scope helps it stand out from recent nautical accounts. 8 pages of b&w photos. (Apr.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. --This text refers to an alternate Hardcover edition.

When he was in his early twenties, the author signed on for a voyage around the globe with the goal of becoming a professional sailor in the world of tall ships. In the course of his 1997-99 circumnavigation on a 70-year-old vessel named the Picton Castle, Crockett became a seasoned sailor entrusted with increasing responsibilities. The crew also included those who paid $30,000 for the experience of working on a sailing ship, and the differences between theirs and the paid crew's motivations soon becomes a source of tension. Many amateur sailors could not hack the work or tolerate the quasi-military hierarchy and discipline of ship life. Consequently, dozens disembarked en route, and two absconded with ship funds. Interpersonal tensions may generate the story line, but Crockett's introspection flavors the chronicle and will be of high interest. He confides his emotions as praise or reproof descends from the captain, as he thinks about a girlfriend back home in Canada, and as he meets islanders in the South Pacific. Crockett's once-in-a-lifetime journey will be an attractive vicarious experience for nautical buffs. Gilbert Taylor
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved --This text refers to an alternate Hardcover edition.

Advance quotes for Fair Wind and Plenty Of It:

“One of a handful of men and women striving to keep alive the old traditions and skills of the great age of sail, Crockett has written a wonderful tale of adventure at sea and a fascinating contemporary account of life aboard a square-rigger, with all its joys, hardships and danger. It’s also the honest and affecting story of a youth’s coming of age, learning the eternal hard lesson of the sea: it shows him the sort of person he is and the great and stirring things he’s capable of doing.”
—Derek Lundy, author of Godforsaken Sea and The Way of a Ship

“What a rollicking, world-sweeping, storm-battered, easy-cruising, obsession-driven, mutinous sun-dazzled tangle of adventures is this yarn! Brilliantly, vividly told. I was carried away by it.”
—George Dawes Green, author of The Caveman’s Valentine and The Juror

“Like the ship he sailed, Rigel Crockett’s book is a throwback to another era, a time when young men ran off to sea for grand adventure. Fair Wind and Plenty of It is filled with all those things that make high-seas adventure such terrific reading — sailors struggling against the remorseless sea and the confines of a ship, the clash of personalities, coming of age and the breathtaking adventure of driving a wind-ship clear around the globe. The fact that it takes place today, with the unique problems of contemporary seafaring, makes it all the more riveting and accessible. Anyone who loves tales of the sea, who is at all curious about the workings of a real square-rigger in the real world, must read Crockett’s engrossing, funny, tragic and ultimately satisfying saga.”
—James L. Nelson, author of the Revolution at Sea and Brethren of the Coast series

In the tradition of Godforsaken Sea and In the Heart of the Sea, Fair Wind and Plenty of It is a virtuoso debut by a sailor turned scribe -- a must-read for lovers of nautical adventure.

On November 25th, 1997, the barque Picton Castle, a three-masted, square-rigged tall ship, headed out from Lunenburg, Nova Scotia on a voyage around the world. Aboard ship a shifting crew of thirty, a combination of professional sailors and paying crew who were out $32,500 for the privilege of working “crew before the mast,” would travel for over a year and half, calling in at ports as exotic and varied as Aruba, Somoa, Bali and Zanzibar.

Fair Wind and Plenty of It tells the story of an obsession, as Captain Dan Moreland, driven by a desire to make his mark in the world of traditional sail, rallies forces to convert a sixty-nine-year-old North Sea trawler into a seaworthy tall ship, and then assembles the crew to sail it. It’s the story of the uneasy balance that is achieved on board, where insubordination and rancour must be kept in line among a crew whose only connection is their common desire to be part of this journey. And it is Rigel’s story: a man who was conceived the day his father laid the keel for his first boat, whose mother was a sailmaker, and who has to reconcile his family legacy with his own need to understand why he must take part in the voyage of the barque Picton Castle.

In Fair Wind and Plenty of It, Rigel Crockett tells a tale of shipboard camaraderie, gut-wrenching struggles and the near-mutinies that marked the year-and-a half journey -- where fellow shipmates proved to be as perilous as the ever-present sea.

Advance quotes for Fair Wind and Plenty Of It:

“One of a handful of men and women striving to keep alive the old traditions and skills of the great age of sail, Crockett has written a wonderful tale of adventure at sea and a fascinating contemporary account of life aboard a square-rigger, with all its joys, hardships and danger. It’s also the honest and affecting story of a youth’s coming of age, learning the eternal hard lesson of the sea: it shows him the sort of person he is and the great and stirring things he’s capable of doing.”
—Derek Lundy, author of Godforsaken Sea and The Way of a Ship

“What a rollicking, world-sweeping, storm-battered, easy-cruising, obsession-driven, mutinous sun-dazzled tangle of adventures is this yarn! Brilliantly, vividly told. I was carried away by it.”
—George Dawes Green, author of The Caveman’s Valentine and The Juror

“Like the ship he sailed, Rigel Crockett’s book is a throwback to another era, a time when young men ran off to sea for grand adventure. Fair Wind and Plenty of It is filled with all those things that make high-seas adventure such terrific reading — sailors struggling against the remorseless sea and the confines of a ship, the clash of personalities, coming of age and the breathtaking adventure of driving a wind-ship clear around the globe. The fact that it takes place today, with the unique problems of contemporary seafaring, makes it all the more riveting and accessible. Anyone who loves tales of the sea, who is at all curious about the workings of a real square-rigger in the real world, must read Crockett’s engrossing, funny, tragic and ultimately satisfying saga.”
—James L. Nelson, author of the Revolution at Sea and Brethren of the Coast series

Rigel Crockett was born in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, and currently lives in Savannah, Georgia. A graduate of Mount Allison University (don’t ask to see his transcript), he also holds a 100-ton master’s licence and a 1600-ton mate’s licence in sailing and motor-ships, issued by the US Coast Guard. At the end of his twenty-six-month tour aboard the Picton Castle, he was awarded the title of Best Shipmate through a nearly unanimous vote.

This is the pleasure of life at sea,–fine weather,
day after day, without interruption,–fair wind,
and plenty of it,–and homeward bound.
–Richard Henry Dana, from Two Years Before the Mast, 1840

Chapter 1: Gale Warning

25 November 1997
Beginning of World Circumnavigation
Bound for Panama from Lunenburg Harbour, Nova Scotia, Canada

As evening deepened, swells grew high. Driven across the North Atlantic, they rolled under us and smashed into white against the snowy bluffs that cradled Lunenburg Bay. The Picton Castle had felt so large and steady there. Now, as we ploughed into the wide ocean – pitching, rolling, testing the concrete ballast that we’d poured – she felt small.

I tightened my grip on her wheel for balance and thought of our thirty green fare-paying crew. Most, unaccustomed to rough nights underway, grew seasick and cold on deck and below. We pressed farther from land and the strengthening wind piled the swells steeper. It kicked up whitecaps, tore them into spray.

The air was below freezing. I pulled my hat down over my ears, lifted my wool collar against the cold wind that blew over the stern. The ship, 179 feet overall, rocked so that her iron freeing ports, meant to shed water from the deck, opened and slammed shut with a string of clanging reports. In a still harbour the deck sat just three and a half feet above surface. In a rolling sea, water sprayed aboard on the low side and surged across the deck in torrents. She was wetter than I’d thought she’d be.

Above the engine’s deep chug, a near gale-force wind whistled in our new rigging. It had been a while since a square-rigger had sailed out of Lunenburg harbour. From the 1860s to the 1880s, Lunenburg was home to an impressive fleet of twenty-five to thirty square-riggers that carried cargoes all over the globe. By 1912, the last of them had her yards removed so she could be handled with fewer crew and scrape by for a few more years in an industry doomed to fade away. In late November 1997, I looked up to our topsails, lashed to their yards just days prior. Two on the fore, two on the main. I was impressed that the Captain had set the uppers in this wind. Twenty-five days behind schedule, he hungered to make distance south before the storms of winter could lock us in, before they could rob his last chance to hold the confidence of the fare-paying crew who’d helped finance his voyage.

Chief mate Brian held the rail for balance as he walked aft from the charthouse to the end of the quarterdeck where I steered. Under the shade of his sou’wester I could see his brown, close-set eyes. He fixed them on mine, like he always did when delivering an order. “Come right to south.”

“Come right to south,” I repeated, and then leaned into the wheel, feeling relieved to steer away from this cold, away from the disappointments of my Lunenburg summer. Crew tugged on the braces to pivot the yards as we changed course. If everything went well, we’d fetch the tropics in a week. Then the order would be steer west, and it would stay west until we’d circled the globe.

Dressed in a long black raincoat and knee-high rubber boots, Captain Dan Moreland stepped from charthouse to quarterdeck and mustered his watch. I felt my toes clench in my boots and made an effort to relax. The man looked tired from our four-month sprint to ready the ship. The grey patch on the chin of his beard had grown, and his face seemed long. He spoke a couple of clipped sentences and disappeared back into his charthouse, leaving the management of his watch to Jesse, his lead able-bodied seaman.

Jesse, with a few days’ scruff on his cleft chin and a ponytail pressed down by his wool hat, sent one of his professional watchmates to relieve me at the helm.

I walked towards the charthouse to report that I’d been relieved and noticed that many of Jesse’s crew were women. Some of them looked uncomfortable, likely wondering why they’d each spent $32,500 (U.S.) to be here.

“If you fall overboard,” Jesse said to his watch, “jam your marlinspike in your eye, because there’s no way you’ll be rescued.” His watch laughed nervously at the severity. I chuckled too. I was not quite so serious as Jesse. Probably it was reflected in my rank – a second-string able-bodied seaman, below the bo’sun on our watch. Still, Jesse was right. A man overboard stood next to no chance in this water.

I worked my way forward to the fo’c’sle for a few hours’ rest before my next watch. I climbed into my upper bunk, drew the curtain, flipped on my fifteen-watt reading light and settled my shoulders against the bulkhead. At about thirty inches, this fo’c’sle bunk was wider than most in commercial ships, and I was one of the lucky few with a porthole. No doubt it would be a luxury in the tropics, though now condensation and ocean spray obscured its glass, sparkling emerald in the starboard sidelight.

I grabbed my journal from the shelf beside me. Pulling up my knees to prop the book, I slammed them noisily into the guitar I’d strapped to my overhead. I muffled the strings, and with hands stiff from cold I wrote:

It has been many months since I’ve written an entry. I’ve been working like a dog on the ship and finishing my sea chest. What few thoughts I’ve put on paper I have sent to Ariel.

These months have been poignant. I’ve gotten to know Dad much better. He’s a sage man and carries a lot of sadness. His eyes were filled with tears when we sailed off the dock. Laurel cried on my shoulder last night. I didn’t expect it — my sister and I have been so aloof lately. I love Laurel. She seems both grown up and a little girl. Mom cried today.

The last few months have held a lot of disappointment. I avoid the Captain. My father is worried about the voyage.

I feel I’ve grown a lot here. Everyone has.

Here I go. Homeward bound.