The day before we sailed from St John's Newfoundland, we took on a dozen or so extra "Newfies" as volunteer crew. Among the dozen "Newfie" volunteers was a girl named Carol, a girl who would later relocate from Canada to the US to be with me. This was a disaster in the making. After the trip was over, Carol and I dated for a while, moved in together, talked of marriage, and ended in a fiery split up. I can't help but wonder whether it is simply too difficult to date a girl from a different country. To this day I have wondered, what are the rules?

The next day, the Gazela set sail on the first ebb tide of the day. See PHOTO 1 of the Gazela as seen from the stern while tied up at the city dock. This time coincided with first light and meaning the captain gave the pre-dawn "all hands call" about an hour before sunrise and the Gazela came to life. The Gazela was a 700 ton barkentine (3 masts: foremast was square-rigged and the main and mizzen masts were gaff rigged). St John's had thrown us a party every day for the past week. The captain wanted to put on a good show as we left St John's. He wanted us to be depart under sail power and have all … sails set before we reached the Narrows to exit the harbor. In the pre-dawn hours, he gave out the assignments. I was assigned to the starboard side of the upper and lower top yards on the foremast.

In the pre-dawn hours, our big Diesel engine was started in order to warm up. Everybody except the climbing crews stood by their stations on the deck waiting for commands. I was in the climbing crew for the foremast. Since it was pre-dawn, I stood on the deck ready to climb but awaiting the command to climb to my work station. Just before sunrise, the climbing crew was order aloft to their work stations.

When the captain gave this order, I climbed the ratlines on the lower shrouds until I reached the overhanging futtocks shrouds just below the platform. Then leaning backward, I climbed up and over the futtocks shrouds, reaching over the platform to grab the topmast shrouds. I pulled myself up and scrambled onto the platform. I continued climbing above the platform on the ratlines of the upper shrouds. Half way up the upper shrouds, I stepped off the ratlines onto the foot rope (actually wire rope) that was slung under the lower top yard and held up by hanging stirrups. I shuffled along the foot rope as I moved outboard to my assigned workstation and clipped in.

The lower top sail had been neatly "flaked" and laid on top of the lower top yard (a horizontal spar). The flaked sail was tied to the yard with short lines called gaskets. On the foot rope with me were 5 other sailors in the climbing crew for the upper and lower top sails. Working in unison, we untied the gaskets and gently pushed the neatly flaked lower top sail forward so it would fall off the yard. The head of the sail was tied to the underside of the yard. The sail was not able to drop down completely because buntlines were tied to the bottom of, i.e. bunt of, the sail and clewlines were tied to the bottom corners (clews) of the sails. The buntlines and clewlines were led down to the deck so the deck crews could lower the sail like a theater curtain.

The foot rope had been installed so that the lower top yard was just a little lower than waist high when we stood on the foot rope and the upper top yard was still within arm's reach. After the lower top sail was let loose to "hang in its gear," the crew on the foot rope reached up to untie the gaskets holding the upper top sail onto the upper top yard. The clews of the upper top sail (at the bottom corners of that sail) were affixed to the lower top yard, but the upper top yard was movable. The deck crew then pulls on the upper top yard halyard to lift the upper top yard into place. Since the upper top sail is already tied to the underside of the upper top yard, the sail itself was pulled tight between the upper top yard and the lower top yard (to which the sail's clews are tied). Both the upper and lower top sails quickly filled with wind.

Similar operations were taking place on the big Course sail below me, and similar operations were taking place on the T'Gallant sail (Top Gallant sail) above me. We set every sail that could be set under the wind conditions before we left the harbor. The deck crew then set the sheets, lifts and braces to adjust the angles of the sails from lines that had been led to belaying pins on the deck. We shut down the Diesel engine and entered the harbor's Narrows under full sail so the locals could take all the pictures they wanted. A dozen or so smaller boats followed us to the Narrows. See PHOTO 2 showing St John's harbor in the foreground, the Atlantic Ocean in the background and the NARROWS to allow ships to pass between the harbor and the Atlantic Ocean.

Most of the climbing crew climbed down, but I remained standing on the foot rope of the lower top yard of the foremast, about 50 or 60 feet over the water. I watched as we sailed by the World War II vintage Fort Amherst on the cliffs of the south cape. See PHOTO 3 for a view of the remains of Fort Amherst on the south cape. We were passing through the Narrows. When I looked to the starboard side of the ship, I saw the south cape which rose up to about 100 to 200 feet over the water. There were gun emplacements on the south cape about 50 or 100 feet over the water. The gun emplacements left no doubt that this was a fortified harbor built to be defended in war.

A little more than an hour after we left the dock, we were in the Atlantic Ocean making a slow lazy turn to starboard as we headed south to Trepassey Bay. Our crew had been up for three hours or more without breakfast and without coffee. Cook started preparing the breakfast when we left the docks but breakfast was not served until we reached the Atlantic Ocean. Cook had been assigned Carol to service as a … helper). Carol's help served which sped up the breakfast service. She was kind enough to bring me a cup of coffee when I had just climbed down from the rigging.

We were on our way to the self governing territory of France known as Saint-Pierre and Miquelon. It was during our sail from St John's to Saint-Pierre and Miquelon that I met and became friends with Carol.

We headed south to Trepassey Bay, sometimes called the Bay of Dead Men or Bay of Souls because of all the ship wrecks in this weather exposed area. Today, the village of Trepassey on the banks of the bay is a small fishing community on the south east corner of the Avalon peninsula. This is a popular area for whale watching.

On the way to Trepassey Bay, we sailed through the Witless Bay Ecological Reserve, home of the largest nesting colonies of Atlantic Puffin in North America, perhaps the world. It turned out that the captains girlfriend was a marine biologist specializing in sea birds. She was in her element since she was able to talk to us about the habits of the Atlantic Puffins and other birds.

Since we were ahead of schedule and had taken on some large timber about 3 or 4 weeks earlier, we anchored in Trepassey Bay for a day. There, we turned our deck into a wood shop and built a new mizzen gaff from the timber so we could replace the current mizzen gaff that was failing due to a large crack in the wood. The ship's carpenter and about a dozen helpers were recruited to build the new gaff. The rest of the crew, numbering about 15 to 20, had miscellaneous ship's duties, but that did not keep everyone one busy. See PHOTO 4 for a snapshot of a portion of our crew on the foredeck of the Gazela. Carol and the cook kept hot meals and iced lemon water coming.

It was a very hot and sunny day. Although the galley was topside in a deck house, it still got plenty hot because of the Diesel fired stove that we lovingly called "uff the Magic Dragon." As cook and Carol prepared hot meals, the galley got extra hot. Carol changed into a bikini since the galley was so hot.

The male to female ratio of the crew was about three to one. Carol was young and attractive, at least I thought so and as much of the crew thought so. In her bikini, she seemed to be a distraction to much of the male crew who were bored and idol anyway. Carol felt that she was justified since her work station was inside the hot galley. I think some of our officers felt she was inappropriately dressed, but they never said anything. I think she did distract the male crew, including me.

It was while we were at anchor in Trepassey Bay with much of the crew idol that I met Tom Goodyear, a retired sea captain who had commanded men on ships for decades. Tom had retired from a job as a commercial sea captain, and he was among the Newfie volunteers we took aboard in St John's NL. He remarked to me how our volunteer crew functioned more efficiently than the crew of professional sailors that he commanded during his career. Maybe he was just flattering us. Even so, he was comparing our crew sailing a sail powered barkentine to crews sailing Diesel or gas turbine powered freighters and cargo ships. The comparison may not hold up.

Our next stop was an unscheduled stop in Burin (pop. about 2,400) on the western shore of the Burin Inlet on the east side of the Burin peninsula. Our captain's girlfriend suddenly took very ill so we anchored in Placentia Bay near Burin, carried her in a small boat to a waiting ambulance on shore. She spent a day and a night in the hospital, recovered and was returned to us. Having nothing to do but wait, we all got liberty that day and night.

I went to a couple of houses in Burin that had been turned into small museums. I learned of the history of this fishing community. In one of the museums, I ran into Carol, our … night, I went to the local beer hall and met up with Carol. Everything is within walking distance from the landing. The beer hall had a substantial bar, pool tables, dart boards, a juke box and … playground out front. It was there in the beer hall that I got to know Carol better and she got to know me. Yes, there was some drinking involved. We swapped stories until late at night and then we returned to the ship.

When the captain's girlfriend returned to the ship, we continued to our scheduled stop in Grand Bank (pop. about 2,600). On the way into Grand Bank, Captain Tom Goodyear jumped in to help as a lowly deck hand. He helped the crew take down and flake the mizzen sail. He jumped up on a deck house on one side of the mizzen while someone else was on the other side. The two of them alternated pushing the sail toward the other side as the gaff was slowly lower causing the sail to fold (flake) as the gaff came down. I grabbed my camera and took a picture of Tom helping to flake the mizzen sail, a picture that I later printed as an enlarged print, framed and gave to Tom and his wife. See PHOTO 5 showing a view of the aft part of the ship and a sailor inspecting the mizzen sail while standing on the same deck house on which Tom Goodyear stood.

We tied up at the town dock and stayed overnight, sleeping onboard the Gazela. We had a lot of fun during the visit. As we tied up at the dock, crowds began to gather on shore. They had not seen Gazela in more than 25 years. There was a lot of storytelling about the legendary soccer games that had been played between fishing fleets from different countries, and talk about how good the Portuguese players were. Gazela was a Portuguese ship. With me on the ship, two older men standing on the dock were telling me a story of how the Portuguese sailors had the best Port wine, and that the sailors would sell the wine to the locals. I asked, "If the wine was so good, why did they sell it?" The first older man said "they wanted local money so they could go see Betsy Mullens." The other older man elbowed the first one and said "on't talk about that. She still lives in this town." Later that day, Carol wanted to go souvenir shopping in town and asked me to come along. Seeing this as a good sign, I said yes.

The next day, we sailed to Saint-Pierre and Miquelon, a self governing territory of France with a population of about 6,000. For about 3 days time, the local chamber of commerce, or equivalent, hosted many parties and tours all around the island. We found there were many restaurants to explore. Saint-Pierre is a highly impoverished colony and is trying to expand tourism to diversify their economy. Without tourism, they are dependent mostly on fishing. Carol and I went on the tours and ate at many of the restaurants.

On the night before Gazela was scheduled to depart, I had booked myself into a local hotel on the island, but Carol stayed the night on the Gazela. The next day, she left the Gazela before breakfast, came to my hotel room to temporarily store her sea bags and we went out together for breakfast. We talked until the early afternoon when she caught the ferry boat from Saint-Pierre to Grand Bank NL where she next boarded an intercity bus back to St John's NL.

After Carol left on the ferry, a fog bank rolled in and shrouded Saint Pierre in fog and drizzle. Gazela was scheduled to leave during this fog, and it did. I was down at the docks so I helped cast off the mooring lines. Then I waved goodbye as the Gazela slowly disappeared in the fog and drizzle amidst the clanging of the signal bell and the ship's fog horn blasting according to maritime regulations. I felt desolate as I walked back to my hotel. In the hotel lobby, the melancholy song, "La Vie en Rose" was playing. Still, I had to wait until the next day since my plane was not scheduled to leave until then.

Saint-Pierre had only two scheduled airline flights per week, both on a 12 passenger Piper Navaho. I had to wait a day and a night for my airline flight from Saint-Pierre to Halifax NS. From Halifax, I flew to Toronto, and from there to Baltimore. While waiting that night, I tried to telephone my father to let him know I was homeward bound. It didn't work. I had become accustom to speaking only French while visiting Saint-Pierre; however, the Saint-Pierre telephone system was routed through Paris. I tried to place a call through the Paris operator who was supposed to connect me to my father in Washington DC. This Paris operator spoke so fast that I could not understand her. My call to my father had to wait a couple of days until I had returned to Baltimore and drove home from there.

After returning to my prosaic existence, I telephoned Carol and we talked. We talked by phone on many occasions over the next several weeks. We negotiated until we agreed on a date: a 4 day dirty weekend in Toronto. I think she wanted to see Phantom of the Opera that was then playing in the theater district. But we played the tourist in the town, visiting Casa Loma, the CN Tower, etc. We had a lot of fun. After that, we dated a couple more times in Toronto, and then in Halifax NS, a couple of time in St John's NL (one time with 5 feet of snow on the ground), and in Washington DC. One time when I went to St John's, I brought with me the picture I snapped of Captain Tom Goodyear helping to flake the mizzen sail, but after I had it enlarged mounted in a frame. We called Tom and his wife and they asked us to tea. When I gave Tom the mounted picture, his wife began to tear up. Tom gave me a gift of a photo of the Argus, a Portuguese ship and companion to the Gazela.

Carol had worked for the provincial government of Newfoundland. In an economy move, the Canadian federal government took over many of the functions of the provinces, and Carol's job was made redundant. She got a generous severance package, but she still had no job at a time when the Newfoundland economy was in crisis due to the fishing ban. I recall that the unemployment rate was over 25%.

Carol and I had enjoyed a rather extravagant dating style, and we had begun talking about marriage. With Carol's job being eliminated, this seemed to be a good time to move in together. She moved into my home in Maryland, but it didn't work out. It was a disaster. Our living together lasted only a few months. After I moved her down, she wanted to go back to Canada, and I had to move her he back to Canada. We tried to do the long distance thing for a while, and we tried to do the friend thing for a while, but that didn't work either.

Anyway, that is my experience of trying to date someone from another country did not end happy. Perhaps we should not have moved in together when we are from different countries. What do you think? Is this typical of dating someone from another country, or did I just not handle the problems very well? Is it simply too difficult to date a girl from a different country. To this day I have wondered, what are the rules?

In the spring of 1995, I wandered north to visit some of the ports in the Canadian Maritimes (Newfoundland, Labrador, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island). I sailed as crew on the Gazela from St John's NL to the self governing territory of France known as Saint-Pierre and Miquelon. On that trip, I meet a local "Newfie" girl. After the trip, we dated a while, talked of marriage, moved in together, and ended in a fiery split up. I can't help but wonder whether it is simply too difficult to date a girl from a different country. What are the rules?

The Gazela Primeiro is a 700 ton barkentine originally built in 1883 in Portugal and rebuilt in 1901 as the Gazela. From 1883 through 1969 the Gazela was a family owned a fishing ship to carry fishermen annually and their fishing dories from Lisbon to the Grand Banks and back again. See photo 1.

Since 1971, Gazela has been U.S. owned and using Philadelphia as the home port. In 1995, a Gazela sailing tour was planned for the Canadian Maritimes. Since I was a volunteer crew on the Gazela, I volunteered for that part of that tour that visited ports while sailing from St John's NL to the self governing territory of France known as Saint-Pierre. I took two and a half weeks leave from my work, drove to Baltimore and then I flew from Baltimore to Toronto. From there, I changed planes and flew on to Halifax NS, and from there, I changed planes again and flew on to St John's, the provincial capital of Newfoundland. I would later join the ship as it was moored in the harbor.

Before joining my ship, I played the tourist in Newfoundland. I got a room in a St John's hotel for a few days and did some sightseeing. I visited Fairyland, the site of Lord Baltimore's first colony in North America, founded in 1621. When I visited, Fairyland was no more than an archeological excavation of the Colony of Avalon. I stood on the stone footings that was once the stone mansion house of the Lord Proprietor, Lord Baltimore (George Calvert). See photo 2.

Lord Baltimore had a beautiful view of the an expansive bay with the bluest water you ever saw. The shoreline was protected by steely blue granite in the form of ledge and large rocks. Inland of the granite was fields of deep green grass. All of this was under a powder blue sky with white puffy clouds. See photo 3. Of course, I visited in June. The winters can be … cold. Lord and Lady Baltimore were so cold that they moved south and founded the colony of Maryland in what was once part of Virginia.

On the way back to St John's, I stopped in Petty Harbor – Maddox Cove, a community on the Avalon peninsula of less than 1,000 people. See photo 4. There I met Alvin Lee Sr. and his son Alvin Lee Jr. Alvin Sr. had such a strong Irish accent, I couldn't understand him. This was typical of the whole of the Avalon peninsula, at least for those who were born before television. Anyway, Alvin Jr. had to translate for his father. Alvin Sr. was so excited to teach me about the life of a fisherman and also the difference between a Newfoundland cod trap and a Japanese cod trap. You see, he was a fisherman.

Alvin Sr. told me how proud he was to take command of his family's fishing boat when his father went to war in Europe (WWII). Alvin Sr. was just 14 or … old when he took the boat out with 4 or 5 fishermen under his young command. They set the Newfoundland Cod Traps and then they tended them all day long. At the end of the day when they pulled up the trap netting, they hauled in enough fish to fill and overflow their little 24 foot fishing boat. Alvin Sr. supervised the dividing of the fish they caught: One share for each fisherman, one share of Alvin (who was a hard working captain), and one share for the family boat, as was their custom. It was their best catch of any day of the war. He was proud to show the picture he kept of their over burdened boat. Alvin Sr. was over 65 years old, but he told the story of the big catch with such excitement in his eyes, as if he were a … old boy all over again. When telling the story, his eyes lit up as he reminisced about the time he was captain of that boat so many years ago.

I returned to St John's but I still had places to visit. St John's harbor is protected from the Atlantic Ocean by a high rocky ridge. See photo 5 of Signal Hill (the north cape) in the near ground, of the south cape in the upper left corner with a cruise ship in the Narrows there between. The city of St John's is shown in the upper right corner with the harbor between the city and the south cape.

See photo 6 taken from atop Cabot Tower (on Signal Hill) and showing St John's, the harbor and the inland side of the south cape. The harbor is inland from the granite ridge line and a small Narrows is cut through the rocky ridge to allow ships to pass between the harbor and the ocean. See photo 6 of the harbor taken from the top of Cabot Tower. See also photo 7 of Fort Amherst on south cape and a submarine in the Narrows sailing into the harbor.

Cabot's Tower was erected on top of Signal Hill (north cape) to commemorate Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee and the 400th anniversary of John Cabot's voyage to North America. See photo 8.

The first trans-Atlantic radio transmission was sent from Ireland to Signal Hill, NL. Guglielmo Marconi himself was present to make sure the equipment worked properly and supervise his team flying a large kite to raise the antenna of the receiver. Today, Cabot's Tower is used as a museum to this G. Marconi accomplishment.

My tourist time had come to an end, and I had to report in to the ship and attend to ship's duties. This time, the ship was anything but normal. The Mayor of St John's threw a big party for our crew at City Hall. The next day, two of our crew members, who had met onboard and fell in love, now got married to one another onboard the Gazela in a ceremony officiated by her honor, the Mayor of St John's. You see, the Gazela had not been back in St John's harbor, or anywhere on the Grand Banks, since about 1969. Everybody was celebrating the Gazela's return after a 25 year absence. It was a weeklong party.

My daytime duties consisted of giving tours of the ship to tourists who came to visit the ship in port. Gazela had just been featured in a move adapted from Ann Rice's novel, "Interview With A Vampire," starring Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt. When we opened the ship for tours, we placed snap shots blown up to life size of Cruise and Pitt at the locations on the Gazela where the stars had posed for the original snap shots. A weekend dad who had brought his two teenage daughters to the ship were most impressed by the snap shots showing the stars at the location on the ship where the stars had posed for the snap shots. The girls wanted a picture but the dad's camera had run out of 35mm film. I ducked below to grab a couple of roll from my stock, and I gave the rolls to the dad. The girls were delighted when the dad took pictures of the girls standing next to the blown up snap shots of the stars at the location where the stars posed for the original snap shots. The weekend dad became a hero.

After 16:00 hours, almost all of the crew was given liberty including me. The captain cautioned us to be back early since we will get an "all hands call" about 1 hour before sunrise to make ready to sail on the first ebb tide of the day. As I left on liberty, a couple of young women who were among the last guests to leave the ship offered to and took me to be screeched-in at Trapper John's on Water St that night. Water St and George St are where the bars are that are frequented by both sailors and college kids alike. Screech is a kind of sweet spiced rum of about 80 proof that is a specialty in Newfoundland. The ceremony involves drinking copious amounts of … reciting a certain verse in "Newfie" (a local dialect that is almost unrecognizable as English), and for the big finish, I must kiss a cod fish on the lips. However, because of depleted fisheries at the time, fishing cod was banned. So the screeching-in ceremony substituted kissing of a Puffin's ass for kissing a cod on the lips. I did all of this, and I have the plaque to prove it hanging on my wall.

In one of the bars, I told one of the young women who served as tour guide about being unable to understand Alvin Lee Sr. She explained that the Avalon peninsula is full of Irish with a very heavy accent and everybody but locals has trouble understanding. She also said if I go north toward Bonavista, I would encounter an equally difficult London accent (almost Cockney). She said she knows because she used to be married to a man from Avalon with the thick Irish accent and her family was from the north where everyone had the difficult London accent. She said she got divorced when she could finally understand what her mother-in-law was saying about her.

That was the day before we set sail. On that day, we took on about a dozen extra "Newfies" as volunteer crew. We began the detail planning as to which sail got set first, and who would set which sail. I was assigned to the crew setting the foremast top sails. Among the dozen extra "Newfie" volunteer crew that joined us was Carol, a girl who would later relocate from Canada to the US to be with me, a disaster that I will describe later.

All things come to an end, and it became time for us to leave. The captain gave the pre-dawn "all hands call" and the ship came to life. The captain wanted to put on a good show as we left St John's. He instructed us to set all sails before we reached the Narrows. We began under motor and set the sails while in motion. We sailed out of the harbor and through the Narrows under sail power and the locals could take all the pictures they wanted.

Our departure on the ebb tide was at first light, and we slowly sailed out of the harbor. A dozen or so smaller boats followed us to the Narrows. We set every sail that could be set under the wind conditions before we left the harbor. From the dock, the locals took their pictures of our ship under full sail. I was standing on the foot ropes for the lower top yard of the foremast, about 50 or 60 feet over the water. After I untied the gaskets from the lower and upper top yards and unfurled the upper and lower top sails, the lower top sail fell down below the yard and the deck crew adjusted the sheets. Then the deck crew pulled on the halyard to raise the upper top yard. The lower clews of the upper top sail were already affixed to the ends of the lower top yard. When the upper top yard was raised, the upper top sail became pulled between the upper and lower top yards. Both the upper and lower top sails quickly filled with wind. The deck crew then set the angles of the sails from lines that had been led to belaying pin on the deck. We were on our way to the self governing territory of France known as Saint-Pierre and Miquelon.

It was during our sail from St John's to the self governing territory of France known as Saint-Pierre and Miquelon that I met and became friends with Carol, but that story will be in a later post.

I have been asked by several members to post a little bit more about myself in a blog post. So if you want to hear more, keep reading. I have been sailing and racing boats and ships for over 40 years. I started racing dingy class sailboats in the Chesapeake Bay near Annapolis MD. I raced on a Thistle (an open cockpit, 17' dingy class sailboat, 3 man crew).

From there I switched to racing a 27' Catalina class yacht (4 man crew), racing the Catalina all over the Chesapeake Bay under the PHRF rules (performance handicap racing fleet rules). The 27' Catalina had an enclosed cabin, a comfort in a cold driving rain. The St Brendon Cup was an overnight race to test navigation, but it went terribly wrong. We sailed from Annapolis, but we became becalmed next to the Thomas Point lighthouse. We bobbed around all night until the morning winds came in the pre-dawn hours and we began to move. We headed east into Eastern Bay when we noticed darkening clouds to the south and other darkening clouds to the north. Friction between the two weather fronts caused severe storms in between which resulted in 4 water spouts by the time we reached the Bloody Point Light. We finished the race in first place, but it was a hollow victory. All of our competition had given up and motored home when we were becalmed near Thomas Point lighthouse. We were the only boat in our class that finished the race.

Then, I switched to racing a 34' C&C class yacht (4 to 6 man crew), also with an enclosed cabin, racing the C&C all over the Chesapeake Bay under the same PHRF rules. The Governor's Cup was an overnight race from Annapolis MD to St Maries City MD intended to prove our skills of night navigation. I sailed through the night rounding Point Lookout, turning up the Potomac River and then turning to the north up the St Maries River. As we approached St Maries Bay, I saw a state owned dock at which was docked the Dove of St Maries. On that day, my sailing began to change from racing yachts to sailing big square right ships.

In the early 1600s, the original Dove of St Maries carried the supplies for the first the colony of Maryland. The Dove was 76' long with a 40 ton displacement. It had 3 masts (square-rigged foremast, square-rigged main mast, and lateen-rigged mizzen mast). It carries a crew of just a half dozen men or so. After a half dozen or so Atlantic crossings, the crew of the original Dove had a labor dispute with Lord Baltimore. While the dispute was resolved, the Dove lay at anchor off Point Comfort without crew maintenance. The marine worms ate the Dove's bottom and the ship was lost. The 17th century lawsuit that followed, left a rich record of the exact dimensions of the Dove.

In 1970, Maryland commissioned the construction of a replica of the original Dove to be used as a state ambassador ship. The Dove I saw docked at the state docks in St Maries harbor was that replica ship. During the parties after the Governor's Cup, I searched out the captain of the replica Dove and inquired about later joining the Dove's crew. I then joined the new Dove's crew and sailed as crew on that replica Dove for 5 to 10 years.

On one trip with the Dove, we arrived at a water festival known as the Blessing of the Fleet on St Clements Island. On that island, I ran into an old sailing buddy of mine named Nick. He had become the 1st mate on the Gazela. Seeing my interest in the Gazela, Nick recruited me for the next sailing tour of the Gazela. The Gazela is a barkentine ship of about 700 tons displacement with three masts (see the attached photo of a water color painting of the Gazela by Richard Moore). The foremast is square-rigged and 4 sails high. The main mast has a gaff-rigged main sail and a top of gaff stay sail. The mizzen mast has a gaff-rigged mizzen sail and a top of gaff stay sail. Gazela carries 17 sails totaling one-quarter acre of canvas and a crew of 25 to 30 sailors. I was one of the crew. The Gazela was built in Setúbal, Portugal in 1883 and sailed out of Lisbon, Portugal to fish the Grand Bank in maritime Canada from 1883 until 1969. Gazela's home port is currently Philadelphia, but, between 1883 and 1969, the Gazela was owned and operated by a Portuguese family to be sailed out of Lisbon and used as part of the "White" fishing fleet. I was with the ship as we sailed on many ambassador tours to ports from Hampton VA to as far north as St John's, Newfoundland. It is a great ship and I grew to respect the skill and craftsmanship of the Portuguese sailors who first sailed it.