Report: Greenport/New London
New York / Connecticut
by Patricia Gallagher
August 13-26, 1997

Wednesday, August 13
Pier One, Clinton Street, Baltimore
Departure Day. Sunny, very hot, very humid.

1100 :

After three trips up the gangway, much to the amusement and resultant good- natured teasing of fellow crew members, my gear and I are officially on board the S.S. John W. Brown and ensconced in room or fo'c's'le, number 30, port side, inboard, last room off the companionway before the hatch to the afterdeck. Approximately ten feet by ten feet with an ivory overhead, pistachio-ice-cream-green bulkheads, and a barn- red deck, number 30 boasts four bunks, three lockers (one large, two small), a small wash basin, one porthole, and one circa 1940 electric fan. The Brown bustles with the anticipation of the imminent voyage but I must properly stow my belongings before joining in the excitement and final preparations. Having previously sailed overnight only once, for three days to Philadelphia in May, I have obviously overpacked for this longer cruise. My new oversized dutlel bag is a splendid idea in theory as it accommodates all of my possessions (and those of my alter-ego "Brownie") with only one disadvantage. I cannot pick it up! (Thus the three trips, two with shopping bags, up the gangway!)

Two of my roommates, Norma Brown and Birdie Albers, are already present. Norma is the first cook, Birdie splits her time between the galley and the ship's store. Fourth roommate Cathy Valenti is due any moment. Norma's husband Ralph, serving with the Armed Guard contingent, and Cathy's husband Frank, in the role of deck engineer, are also crew members.

Birdie shows me the locker I will share with fourth roommate Cathy. What does not fit in the locker is stowed in baskets (two for each of us) under the bottom bunks. Miraculously, a place is found for everything. With my bunk (top one aft, next to the porthole!) made up and personal pillows in place I put the finishing touches on what will be my home for approximately two weeks; first by securing a hook on the locker directly to the right of my bunk (when in the bunk) and secondly a plastic bin (now night table) between the left side of the bunk and the bulkhead. This is done using that most indispensable of commodities aboard ship-- duct tape. I learned on the Philly trip just how seriously duct tape is taken around here. When attempting to borrow a roll to cover a windy vent opening with cardboard I was asked precisely how much I would use, for what purpose it would be used, when would it be returned, and where I was taking it-- serious stuff, this duct tape! Older and wiser, this time I come with my very own roll! Unpacking and redecorating complete, I join the activity outside fo c s'le number 30.

1200-1300 :

Chief Mate Rick Bauman assigns me the task of distributing immersion suits to the sea-going crew. The "Gumby" suits (so called because of their resemblance to the plastic toy when worn) come in three sizes and are available in #3 'tween deck. Posted among the suits I check off names as they are acquired -- a desirable job as this helps me connect names with faces of fellow crew members. Rick conducts the safety orientation in #1 'tween deck. Safety is a priority on any voyage and the ebullient crew is noticeably sobered as instructions are reviewed for the upcoming fire and boat drill and during Rick's demonstration on donning the aforementioned suits. Non-dominant limbs first, remove shoes or insert plastic bags in legs to facilitate the process. Rick deserves extra credit for this demonstration in the stifling heat and humidity.

1330-1430 :

Fire and boat drill. Wearing life jackets, everyone reports to his muster station where role iB called. Fire hoses are tested, delivering a refreshing mist on the assemblage at my muster station on the starboard side of #4 hatch. The boat drill immediately follows; smaller groups assemble at appropriate stations. Back in fo'c's'le # 30 following the drills, my roommates and I attempt to find space for four imposing immersion suits in our compact quarters.

1530-1630 :

Project Liberty Ship Chairman Captain Brian Hope asks me to play 1940's music on the PA system. Perched on the starboard bridge wing I can slip into the wheelhouse as needed to change tapes and I'm not in anyone's way. This spot affords an excellent view. Berthed directly abeam at the adjacent pier is a large oceangoing bulk carrier. An immense claw suspended from a crane unloads a salt or mineral substance from her with rhythmic efficiency. Most striking is the absolute absence of people-- none are in sight! When the Brown loads or unloads a large complement attends, working in concert, manning or directing the winches and booms-- an orchestrated vision of teamwork and harmony. This lonely vessel shows no evidence of a crew.

Off the Brown's stern the Clipper City glides past Fort McHenry, apparently if not actually under sail, while smoke puffs from our stack. What an anachronistic spectacle awaits any passerby -- a tall ship passing a Liberty ready to embark! Below, the steady chunk-a-chunk, chunk-a-chunk of her steam engine reaffirms this gray lady's readiness for adventure.

1700 :

Dinner is served. Amidst all the excitement Norma Brown, Birdie Albers, and John Irwin, under the capable guidance of Chief Steward John Manos, have prepared a delicious and hearty repast of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and carrots, with chocolate pudding for dessert. Hungry crew devour the tasty offerings.

1800 :

The oppressive heat of the day abates, the sun slips in the sky; the hour so patiently, or impatiently awaited is upon us. Our mooring lines cast off, the tug nudges us gently, tenderly, away from Pier One, her high-pitched little whistle chattering away, speaking volumes to those who comprehend her language. With her bow reaching for open water, the Brown's formidable steam whistle resounds with the requisite long followed by three short blasts. I shiver at this powerful, peerless sound which exemplifies the extraordinary legacy of this vessel and her departed sisters. Gentle breezes brush away the last of the day's searing heat as we slip through the harbor and into the bay, settling into an idyllic evening sail toward the C and D Canal. (One of my secret desires-- to pull that handle and blow that steam whistle!)

2100-2330 :

The flying bridge is a study of concentration, with the ever-vigilant Captain Paul Esbensen in command, and Captain Brian Hope as pilot, among those under whose masterful control the Brown steams up the Chesapeake. Aware it is a privilege to be here I attempt to be as unobtrusive as possible observing these master mariners practice their trade. A large container ship approaches off our stern, causing some degree of concern for it appears she will overtake us in the somewhat narrow channel. Brian communicates with her. We "hug the red" and overtake us she does as we round a slight bend. The situation is further complicated by a small sailboat, under power, in the middle of the shipping channel. The larger vessels execute the maneuver flawlessly; the container ship and the sailboat disappear into the night and the Brown proceeds on course without missing a beat.

2345 : Chesapeake City.

The pilot boat approaches and hugs our port side, her speed and the Brown's perfectly synchronized. Brian, an apprentice pilot, and a visiting consultant balance on the partly suspended gangway, preparing to board the smaller vessel. Brian leads the little party. By the slightest movement of hand he directs the descent and angle of his conveyer with the style and precision of a conductor fine- tuning his orchestra. In an impeccably choreographed motion he alights the gangway at the precise moment the pilot boat closes under it. The other men follow suit. Within seconds the small craft disappears, the gangway reassumes its horizontal position.

Thursday, August 14
Underway in the C&D Canal

0025 : In my bunk, I'm writing by flashlight (Norma must get up at 0430). I cannot sleep -- partly because of the rather intense heat and the smell of diesel fumes in our close quarters, mostly out of sheer excitement. Chunk-a-chunk... chunk-a-chunk... the mighty double-acting, triple expansion steam engine beats out its unfaltering rhythm, barely perceptible by day, pervasive in the still of the night. How can I complain even inwardly about this heat? The firing aisle in the engine room reached 116 degrees this afternoon, and the "black gang" must withstand it for hours at a time!

Flashlight out, I lie down. Chunk-a-chunk... chunk-a-chunk... who first occupied this space, if not this actual bunk in 1942, or at any time during the war? Can one today, in the very same space, seeing and hearing and smelling and feeling the same sights and sounds and smells and motions begin to imagine what thoughts and fears crossed their minds and hearts?

0310 : An occasional mournful wail rouses my slumber - the Brown's fog horn? Most likely a buoy.

0422 : Norma's alarm clock sounds. The first cook must have breakfast prepared and ready by 0700.

0730 : Subtle rolling indicates we are in the ocean; there is much activity on deck, diesel fumes waft through our solitary porthole. In the companionway outside fo'c's'le number 30 crew cue up along the galley service bay for a bounteous breakfast-- bacon, eggs to order, tater tots, cereal, bananas, prunes, toast, choices of juice, coffee, milk.

0915 - 1100 : The Brown steams north, about 25 miles off the New Jersey coast. Seas are calm, the air warm and humid, winds light, the sky pearl-gray; a slight mist Far off to port a ribbon of smoke rises above the horizon. What initially appears to be one vessel becomes a large tug towing a barge. One can only imagine this same scene some fifty years ago in this very spot, and the response evoked by smoke on the horizon...

Ted Taddei and Armed Guard colleagues sweep and hose down #4 hatch and the afterdeck, which are covered with soot. I close the porthole in fo'c's'le number 30 just in time to prevent a soaked bunk!

1045 : Off starboard, a tiny sloop is spotted about halfway between us and the horizon, with nothing else in sight. My own sailing experience limited to the Chesapeake Bay, I decide he has moxy to bung this little craft so far on a rather "iffy" day.

1130 : Lunch is served-- chilli, hot dogs, sauerkraut, fruit cup. If anyone goes hungry on this voyage, it is his own fault!

1345 : Second Mate Frank Schmidt and Captain Esbensen dominate the flying bridge. The captain, who has most likely been here virtually every moment since we left Baltimore, scans the horizon with binoculars. Deck Cadet and Kings Pointer Ben Lyons takes me into the chart room and identifies our exact position-- 28 miles east of Atlantic City. We will head up the coast, turn right, cutting diagonally under Long Island, then proceed east/northeast past Montauk Point to Greenport.

1930 : The mood turns solemn as all crew not on watch assemble on the port side of #3 for a burial at sea. Captain Esbensen conducts the service for departed PLS member and wartime John W. Brown crew member Benjamin W. (Wes) Arrance, Jr. Heads bow in prayer as the ashes of the deceased slip from beneath the American flag to their final resting place. The Brown bids her parted comrade farewell with a long, chilling salute from her steam whistle.

2100 : Decks are deserted this cool, calm night as the Brown maintains her course for Greenport, less than twelve hours away. Other than chatter and occasional bursts of laughter emanating from the Armed Guard Quarters all is quiet as I make solitary rounds from stem to stern, savoring every minute of this night at sea.

2200 : Comfortably settled in my bunk (much cooler tonight) I'm ever so gently rolled to sleep.

Friday, August 15
Greenport Harbor
Cloudy, cool, very humid

0700 - 0900 : The ship buzzes with activity in anticipation of visitors as we anchor a few hundred yards off Greenport. Through the slight morning haze the little village appears quaintly charming; an irregular assortment of clapboard and shingle buildings, waterfront restaurants, and a small fleet of fishing boats.

1000 - 1100 : Transformed into "Brownie," I ready my "Adopt-A-Rivet" table in its usual spot, portside, next to #3. Floats which facilitate the boarding process are in place under the forward gangway. We encounter our first glitch. Instead of the supposed three launches that will shuttle visitors from town and back, we must make do, at least for now, with one-- the Loon, loaned by Kings Point, and in the capable hands of Ben Lyons. After a slight delay the first visitors arrive.

1700 : After a relatively small but steady and very appreciative flow of guests, we close to the public for the day. Our busy steward and galley contingent toils tirelessly, visitors or no. Dinner is served promptly-- baked fish, mashed potatoes, mixed veggies, Jello.

1945 : Festivities honoring the Brown and her crew get underway in Greenport. Virtually all crew with the exception of those on watch attend. This night is a momentous one in this engaging town (summer population 10,000, winter 3,000) as the Brown's visit coincides with the 146th anniversary of the Greenport Band. This all-volunteer ensemble presents a series of old-fashioned outdoor band concerts on Friday evenings during July and August. In a setting reminiscent of Rockwell, or at least evoking memories of Mayberry, townsfolk young and old, with lawn chairs and baby strollers in tow, assemble on the parking-lot-turned-concert-hall of the North Fork Bank. We are tonight's special guests, complete with reserved seating just for us, and feel truly honored as we assemble as a crew and parade to our seats. Following the National Anthem, Captain Esbensen is asked to speak. He expresses his sincere appreciation to the people of Greenport for their warm reception, and comments on how this lovely town is becoming a favorite of our crew. (The Brown was privileged to visit in 1994 on her return trip from Halifax.) The captain gives a brief history of the John W. Brown and explains the mission of Project Liberty Ship. For over one hour sounds from Sousa to Sinatra fill the evening, which comes complete with mild temperatures, gentle breezes, and an almost-full moon. Highlights include "Heave Ho, My Lads," and a rousing rendition of "The Beer Barrel Polka," during which the audience places monetary donations in a barrel. It is announced that the all-volunteer Greenport Band will donate a portion of the contributions to the all- volunteer Project Liberty Ship!

The evening culminates with the appearance of a very large cake to celebrate the band's anniversary. The most hospitable cake ladies make certain none of us is without a generous serving. We depart this charming venue filled with gratitude for a very gracious reception from the kindly residents of Greenport.

2200 : Enroute "home" to the launch and the Brown we encounter an old three- masted ship, the forward mast square rigged, the after ones fore and aft rigged. Built in Denmark as a schooner in 1908, the Regina Maris is now a barkentine after several rebirths. "Save the Regina Maris, Ltd." is working to restore and preserve this vintage lady, whose pumps run 24 hours to keep her afloat.

As we wait on the pier for our launch the Brown's mighty whistle sounds three night-piercing blasts, saluting the passing New York Fast Ferry, which made its inaugural run from New York to Greenport today. This sleek new vessel makes the trip in three hours and will bring weekenders to Greenport on Fridays and return them to the city on Sunday nights. A barkentine, a Liberty, and a state-of-the-art ferry all within a few hundred yards of each other!

2330 : In my bunk, I'm very much at home on evening number three. Tonight is another hot one in number 30; I shift the pillows to the bunk's foot and recline with my head propped next to the open porthole, glimpsing the lighted shoreline of Greenport through the rigging. How often does one get to go to sleep like this?!

Saturday, August 16
Greenport Harbor
Clear and Sunny

0730 : The breakfast conversation revolves around the severe thunderstorm that occurred between 0200 and 0300. A terrific downpour did a fine job of washing the deck and a particularly intense flash of lightning produced a crack of thunder so loud it "sounded as though the ship had been hit," according to Cathy Valenti and several others. Usually a very light sleeper, I heard nothing.

0900 - 1700 : The "Adopt-A-Rivet" Stand is up and ready next to # 3. I assume the role of "Brownie," also giving the brief welcome and orientation to each launchload of visitors as they board the ship. This works well as we are somewhat shorthanded, and it provides "Brownie" with an excellent opportunity to introduce the Rivet Drive.

1800 - 2000 : After too much heat and sun I revive with a cold shower and a dinner of iced tea and strawberry ice-cream, the latter ever so graciously procured from the 'tween deck freezer by busy Chief Steward John Manos. The starboard deck, forward, provides an excellent vantage point to view and photograph the sun setting over Greenport. To my right Brian Hope (a.k.a. "The Mad Painter"), who rejoined us last night, leans over the rail, aggressively rolling paint on the Brown's topside in a race against darkness and potential showers. A member of the American Society of Marine Artists, Brian has numerous fine paintings to his credit. On the Brown, however, he is frequently seen with a large pan of "haze gray" paint and a roller, coating everything from decks to davits. While he excels at this, I personally prefer his more creative ventures. Captain Hope ceases painting long enough to explain the very rare "green flash," a phenomenon visible just as the setting sun disappears. A very clear horizon is needed-- for this reason the "green flash" is seen mostly by seafarers. Even more rare is the "purple flash," occurring the last instant of a sunset. Attempts to spot the "green flash" are thwarted by a sudden shower which chases everyone off the deck.

2200 : With Brian at the helm, ship's store manager Jack Buchheister, messman Mike Bottemley, Armed Guard member Leonard Kulacki, and I ride the launch to Greenport on her hourly shuttle run. From the launch we gaze at our "mothership;" she has taken on a whole new appearance. Cloaked in moonglow, bejeweled with lights, the Brown beguiles us in her elegant evening attire. Why didn't I bring a camera?

2300 : Hourly shuttle- same launch, same crew, this time I have my 35mm, loaded with 400 speed film. With the camera pushed to 800 I snap away at the Brown, hoping for the best.

Sunday, August 17
Greenport Harbor
Sunny and mild

0900 - 1700 : The "Adopt-A-Rivet space next to # 3 is covered with a canopy, thanks to the deck department! "Brownie" sets about a full shady day of selling rivets, posters, etc.

1200 : John Manos and company make several trips up and down the gangway from the launch, laden with tomatoes, corn on the cob, string beans, cantaloupes, and watermelon, courtesy of the Peconic Bay Chapter of the AMMV. These kindly folks acquired donations of the fruits and veggies from local farmers. We are touched by the generosity and look forward to partaking of the offerings!

1800 - 2030 : Cool breezes sweep the decks as light clouds slowly obscure the setting sun. Hopes of catching the "green flash" are abandoned for tonight but I enjoy a lovely evening perched on #2 hatch. In about one hour the ship actually rotates a full 360 degrees around her anchor, providing a splendid "ride" and an all-encompassing view of Greenport Harbor. Equally surprising is that, with the exception of Acting Chief Mate Captain George Maier, who happens by to illuminate the anchor light, absolutely no one is on deck.

Monday, August 18
Greenport Harbor
Cool and breezy, rainy

0900 : A representative of Greenport Mayor David E. Kapell presents Captain Esbensen with a flag of Greenport. The flag is proudly flown on the Brown.

1145 : Captain Paul Esbensen, twelve of the ship's company, and I (as "Brownie") board the launch for Greenport and a luncheon at Claudio's Restaurant. We are the guests of Mr. Merlon Wiggin, the Chairman of the Board of the East End Seaport Museum and Marine Foundation, who is largely responsible for the Brown's visit to Greenport. Others present include Merlon's wife Isabelle, Mr. Jerry McCarthy, local historian of Greenport and bass drum player (for almost fifty years!) in the Greenport Band, Mr. Colin Van Tuyl, director of the band, and Mr. Frank Lindstrom of the Peconic Bay Chapter of the AMMV.

Mr. Bill Claudio greets us personally. A charming waterfront eatery, Claudio's enjoys the distinction of being the oldest continuously owned and operated family restaurant in the United States, dating from 1870. Following our delicious repast of stuffed flounder or chicken marsala, Merlon speaks briefly to his guests, expressing his pleasure at the John W. Brown's visit and credits his wife Isabelle for fielding over 500 telephone calls regarding the Brown. Douglass Marine is also cited for providing launches for the Brown's pilots.

Captain Esbensen addresses the party commenting on how the atmosphere of this lovely town and the hospitality of the people have made it a favorite port among the crew.

1400 - 1700 : Back on board, "Brownie" reassumes her post next to # 3. Visitors board the ship at a steady pace, as do more fruits and veggies, again courtesy of the Peconic Bay Chapter of the AMMV. One of our biggest problems today (indeed for the past several days) is caused by curiosity seekers and spectators in smaller craft who speed past us and around us. Their wakes wreak havoc with our launches and floats, causing much clanging and banging, and difficulty for those boarding and disembarking. Mates George Maier and Frank Schmidt, Purser Herk Esibill, and others take turns at the bullhorn requesting these speedy skippers to, "SLOW DOWN, PLEASE!"

1645 : "Brownie" draws the winning ticket for the Oswald Brett print on which every Greenport visitor automatically received a chance. The winner is Mr. William Buhler of New York.

1730 : Dinner - Steak with potatoes, tomatoes, and corn on the cob, courtesy of the aforementioned AMMV.

1900 - 2030 : The afterdeck ie the place to be as the deck department prepares to haul the Kinge Point launch Loon on board to return her to the Academy. Second Mate Frank Schmidt and company are on board the Loon, positioning two straps under her hull with which to lift her on the Brown. Bill McClernan and Wayte Huffer prepare to take out a second launch to retrieve them once the straps are secure. Captain Esbensen asks Bill to take me in the launch so that I may photograph the operation!

The straps apparently in place, we pick up the threesome. George Maier and the deck crew on the Brown begin to haul the small craft up, using a boom aft of #4 hatch. The Loon begins to tilt nose downward; she is lowered back into the water. Fr~nk and company reboard her and coax the forward strap closer to the bow. Once again we retrieve the threesome and a second attempt is made to hoist her up, this time successful. A line, however, knocks her stern light overboard. Our launch reverses to the wayward light, which to everyone's surprise, is still floating. Perched by happenstance on the stern I stretch and scoop it from the water, to cheers and applause from onlookers! (Guess I've earned my keep tonight!)

Back on board, the deck department makes adjustments to nestle the Loon in a cradle on top of #4, her sternlight stowed in the cockpit. The sun has set; no "green flash" spotting this evening.

Tuesday, August 19
Depart Greenport
Sunny, cool, calm

0730 - 1100 : We depart Greenport for Kings Point; the mighty steam whistle makes certain that any sleeping "Greenportian" is now awake. Breakfast is served: hotcakes, sausage, and the "AMMV' cantaloupe. Fabulous! Following breakfast Cathy Valenti instructs me on shipboard laundry procedure. The only discernible difference from doing wash at home involves the detergent. A special ecologically safe formula is dispensed from a wall-mounted canister. One merely inserts the attached tube into the washing machine and pushes a button, and the proper amount is automatically released. Simple enough. Only the detergent keeps coming... and coming... and coming...! Fear rises within as I envision the worst! Cathy reads my worried expression and assures me it will eventually stop, which it does. Laundry detail proceeds without incident.

On the afterdeck Andy Paulik, Torben Hansen, and Dan Hellings are hard at work on the Loon, scraping barnacles from her hull, propeller, and rudder. Our deck department obviously subscribes to the belief that you return anything borrowed in at least as good a condition as you found it.

Strolling the deck I pause on the fantail; The Long Island shore is to port, Connecticut to Starboard. Our ETA at Kings Point is 1500. Lobster pots slip by on both sides and in our wake. Recalling years of dodging crab pots in the Chesapeake, and the resultant fiasco if a line became entwined around the propeller or shaft, I wonder out loud if the lobster traps can cause a problem for a prop as large as the Brown's. I am assured that, no, they cannot.

1630 : Arrive Kings Point.

Amidst an atmosphere of avid anticipation we edge toward the Merchant Marine Academy at Kings Point. This scenic campus is nestled on a hill on the north shore of Long Island, overlooking Long Island Sound with the Throgs Neck Bridge, and ultimately the Manhattan skyline in the distance. Our visit is the fruition of a dream harbored by so many for so long; for the numerous al~lmni among the Brown's crew, and for many of the midshipmen on shore, a number of whom have lived, worked, and sailed on the Brown. Like the proverbial birds perched on a wire, non-working crew line the bow, many with binoculars, identifying points of interest to the uninitiated: the former Chrysler home (now the administration building), the chapel, officers' club, and of course, the Kings Pointer, berthed in the basin beneath the bluff. The stalwart steam engine shifts into reverse; the deck department engages in frenzied activity around the anchor windlass. On the bridge bearings are taken amidst communication with those manning the windlass. The anchor drops; we are ensconced a few hundred yards from the Academy.

1730 : With floats secured under the gangway and the Loon back in service we receive a small trickle of visitors, including Mr. and Mrs. William and Mary Bornemann. Lying about his age, Mr. Bornemann sailed on the Brown during World War II as a merchant marine messman when he was fifteen years old. Sailing from New York to Leith, Scotland, the Brown's cargo holds were completely filled with grain and the decks covered with ballast on this voyage, where danger was encountered in the mined English Channel. Mr. BornemAnn then sailed the empty Brown to Florida, then Galveston. During this crossing he was initially assigned to the Armed Guard Quarters as no Armed Guard personnel were on board. The rough weather resulted in his being moved amidships.

The Bornemanns are thrilled to tour the Brown and join PLS on the spot. Mr. Bornemann is particularly touched when presented with a John W. Brown World War II hat.

No "green flash" tonight.

Wednesday, August 20
Kings Point
Cloudy, cool, light rain

1030 : Kings Point midshipmen, personnel, and families visit the ship. Plebes given a tour are vnde-eyed and agog at what they see, and fascinated with the (surely ancient in their eyes!) history of the Brown. They are equally impressed with the cadets' room on the bridge deck, voicing their preference for it over their own accommodations. Among faculty visiting us is Dr. George Billy, the Chief Librarian at Kings Point. A very pleasant gentleman, Dr. Billy thoroughtly enjoys his tour of the Brown, particularly his visit to the literary department of the ship's store! He is equally pleased to receive copies of the Uglv Duckling; Dr. Billy and the Kings Point Library are the newest addition to our m~iling list!

1100 - 1230 : On the afterdeck the deck department takes on the task of lowering the topmast to replace the halyards. Acting Chief Mate George Maier and A. B. Ed Agnew engage in acrobatics high atop the kingpost while Second Mate Frank Schmidt coordinates the winch below, with others assisting. With a reasonable amount of coordinates the winch below, with others assisting. With a reasonable amount of encouragement George and Ed remove the pins. The stubborn mast, however, will not be coaxed down through the collars sufficiently to reach and replace the line. After about one hour of "friendly persuasion" using hammers, crowbars, WD- 40, and penetrating oil, the mast succumbs just enough to allow George and Ed to remove the old line and feed new through the blocks. Mission accomplished!

1330 - 1600 : Staff Chief Engineer Joe Carbo leads a group of John W. Brown crew on a tour of the Merchant Marine Academy at Kings Point. We are greeted by Commander Eric Wallischeck, USMS, the Director of Waterfront Activities. Commander Wallischeck takes justifiable pride in conducting the tour, starting with a waLk around the grounds. Highlights include the very grand Wiley Hall, the current administration building and former summer home of the Chrysler family, and the Fulton Building, where our entourage of predominately engine department personnel salivates ~midst the equipment and machinery in the labs! We encounter engineering professor Wally Franklin (who will sail with us from Kings Point to New London). A PLS member and familiar face aboard the Brown. Professor Franklin takes great pleasure in escorting the eager engineers to the AMM Museum Annex, complete with two steam engines including the engine from the T.V. Emery R`ce, an early Kings Point training ship. Mounted on the wall next to the Emery Rzce's engine is a large photograph of none other than crew member Frank Valenti as a Kings Point Cadet in 1942, "inside" said engine oiling it! We persuade good sport Frank to once again enter the engine, oil can in hand. What a photo op! Our tour also includes the non-denominational chapel, which houses a unique three-sided altar mounted on a floor level turn table. With the push of a button the table rotates, enabling the Catholic, Protestant, or Jewish side to face the congregation.

A final highlight is Barstow House, also a former estate home and the site of the Kings Point AMMV Museum, which houses an extensive collection of ship models, paintings, instruments, and even table china from numerous shipping lines. We return to the Brown via the Loon, which is experiencing some difficulty with overheating. Many visitors from Kings Point are still on board.

1900 - 2130 : The Kings Point Chapter of the Propeller Club hosts a dinner reception aboard the Brown in #2 'tween deck in honor of her visit to the Academy. Midshipmen, their families and friends, Kings Point faculty, and the Brown's crew are invited to a sumptuous feast of hors d'oeuvres, chicken, hot dogs, hamburgers, mile-long subs, and an array of desserts to tempt the most resolute dieter. Arranged by midshipmen and JWB crew members Ben Lyons and Dana Woodruff, the food was generously donated by Rich Stancotti, manager of Melville Hall, the Academy Officers' Club.

Frank Valenti is credited with arranging for the food at no cost to PLS. Addressing the guests, Ben Lyons expresses his happiness and gratitude for the Brown's presence at Kings Point and Presents Captain Esbensen with $224.00 from the Class of 2001 to adopt four rivets. Noticeably touched, the captain comments on the personal significance of the visit, and, speaking to the midshipmen, extols the Brown's crew who have made the ship what she is today. Captain Esbensen stresses just how much the aspiring seafarers can learn from the extremely talented and experienced veteran crew and urges them to avail themselves of the opportunity. The festivities culminate with the cutting of a large (and delicious!) chocolate cake baked in honor of the occasion.

2300 : Lights out, snug in my bunk. Still cool and rainy, so no missed opportunity to catch the evasive "green fl~sh."

Thursday, August 21
Depart Kings Point
Cool, gray, foggy, misty

0700 : The Brown weighs anchor bidding farewell to Kings Point with her steam whistle; the Kings Pointer returns the salute. Actually, this morning, the whistle sounds as though it, too, partied heartily last night. The noble whistle which consistently rouses such a stir in me sounds more like a moose on its deathbed than its venerable self...

1130 : Crews' Mess - Birdie Albers, Cathy Valenti, John Manos, Wes Walston, Mike Bottemley, and I snap string beans... and snap string beans... and snap string beans... (still courtesy of the Peconic Bay Chapter of the AMMV) for tonight's dinner.

1330 : Enroute to New London, our ETA has been moved back due to headwinds. The deck and flying bridge are deserted, the ship navigated from the wheelhouse. Realizing a rare opportunity presents itself, I don my slicker to steal a few moments on the flying bridge. A gusty mist sweeps us, we pitch and roll slightly. The wind picks up, topping the blue-gray swells with whitecaps as fog blurs the horizon, and the calendar. Such atmosphere infuses a sense of history unlike any written word. Height intensifies the rolling, the force of the wind, the sheer majesty of the moment. This is a setting that becomes this stately gray lady as no clear, sunny day can. She lunges forward, enjoying this run through the wind and the rain and the waves, reliving her youth in much the same fashion as many of her crew. What a vision beholds any passing vessel!

I'm shaking with cold, lashed by wind and spray, yet stand transfixed, knowing this is the closest I'll ever come to living what these ships and their crews lived so many years ago, when weather was the very least of their concerns. I arn filled with gratitude for the exceptional privilege of being here, and for those who have given so much to make this possible.

1740 : We approach New London; tugs escort us up the Thames River past the home of Fr~nk Valenti's cousins who, despite the weather have assembled on their front lawn and repeatedly salute us with cannon fire!

1800 : We dock at the reconstructed New London State Pier, enjoying the honor of being the very first ship to dock here. Actually, the reconstruction is still in progress, but sufficiently complete to accommodate us. We are greeted by a quintet of intrepid bagpipe players who brave the elements and play for about forty-five minutes as lines are m~de fast. Across the Thames just a few hundred yards off starboard lies Groton, Connecticut.

1830 : Deputy Mayor Lloyd Beachy of New London, PLS member and Host Committee Chairman Dick Burke, and recently retired Director of the State Pier Doug Brown greet Captain Esbensen in the saloon; Deputy Mayor Beachy presents the captain with a proclamation welcoming the Brown to New London. Also present is Earl "Skip" Gainsley (John W. Brown's grandson!), and Mike Gelman, one of the key organizers of the Committee who has worked for several years to bring the Brown here.

1830 : The resolute bagpipers, on board and out of the rain, are treated to dinner. (Chicken Kiev with string beans-- lots of string beans!)

1930 : Weather still cool, rainy. No need to look for the "green flash" tonight.

Friday, August 22
New London
Cool, misty, raining

0700 :

Everyone readies for a long day; we will be open to the public from 0900 to 1900 to accommodate working people. The sky looks as if it might break.

0800 :

Coast Guard Inspectors board the ship.

0900 - 1100 :

A light but steady parade of visitors boards the ship. Continuous entertainment is pronded by construction workers on the dock, ferries constantly running in and out of New London, and trains entering and exiting the local Amtrak station. How pusillanimous are the whistles and horns of these conveyances compared to our mighty steam whistle, which has been fine-tuned by Chief Engineer DeLacy (Cookie) Cook and is back to its robust self!

1800 - 1930 : Supplies arrive for tomorrow's day cruise. A regular stream of trucks, vans, etc., rolls up the dock delivering food, beverages, and accouterments. Coinciding with the caterer's arrival is that of a number of Kings Point midshipmen, who are immediately pressed into service. A highlight is the boarding of VVl1VII jeeps via the winches.

At this time the Brown is honored by a visit by RADM Harold Shear, a former MARAD arlministrator who currently resides in Groton, CT. Admiral Shear is responsible for the reconstruction of the State Pier in New London. Captain Esbensen visits with the admiral amidst the activity on the dock. The sun sets over the town of New London, which rises up a hill a few hundred yards to our west. Obviously this is not a place to spot the elusive "green flash" as the sun sinks behind trees on said hill.

2300 : In my bunk, I reflect on how quickly the past eleven days have gone. It is hard to believe this is my second to last night aboard.

Saturday, August 23
New London - Cruise Day
Sunny, cool, breezy

0800 : Passengers board; # 2 'tween deck does a brisk business serving the continental breakfast and the ship's store does a brisk business selling sweatshirts.

1015 - 1600 : Lines are let go; the air fills with anticipation and the sounds of the Tuxedo Junction Big Band as the Brown, filled to capacity, steams down the Thames River bound for Long Island Sound. Today truly epitomizes the mission of Project Liberty Ship and the John W. Brown as a living, steaming, historic vessel. For several hours our guests experience so much more than a lovely cruise and delicious food and big-band music and an air show.

From the heights of the flying bridge, with the sun in their faces and the wind in their hair, they stand beside the deck officers and feel this proud ship slice through the seas, and they watch the helmeman maneuver the ship's sturdy brass wheel, and they listen to the ring of the engine room telegraph or the mighty blast of the steam whistle, just feet away. Far below deck, they feel the searing heat in the firing aisle between the boilers, and they watch and listen as the immense pistons plunge up and down without missing a beat, and they inhale the scent of hot oil on hotter steel.

Our passengers jitterbug with joy to "In The Mood" and hold each other close to "I'll be Seeing You" on the open decks, and they flinch involuntarily on those same decks as "enemy planes" attack at close range and our reenactors return fire from the Brown's gun tubs. With heads bowed they remember departed comrades and yield to tears as the hymn "Eternal Father, Strong to Save" and a rifle salute conclude the Memorial Service.

1600 : Lines are made fast at the State Pier. An atmosphere of enthusiasm and joie- de-vivre, coupled with reverence and appreciation, fills our guests who disembark to the poignant strains of "We'll Meet Again," so befitting this memory-laden, and memory-making, "Cruise into History."

Many thanks are due to many folks who made this very successful cruise, and indeed our visit to New London, a reality. Special thanks are due to Richard Burke and to Frank Valenti, PLS' event coordinator, who worked for close to two years to ensure the success of the voyage. Others who surely deserve recognition are as follows: Doug Brown, Dick Carlson, Revel J. Carr, George Cassidy, Pete Frederickson, Mike Gelman, Dave Harding, Joyce Harris, Maria Hetzel, William Jahns, George King, James Lemerlin, Robert Lewis, Tom Maher, Jack Maisch, Earl Maxfield, Stanley Mickus. Captain Robert Nestlerode, Jim Reyburn, Lt. James Risley, LCDR Paul Roden, Edward Ryan, RADM Harold Shear, Kathy Sheldon, Gregory Tiefert, Louis Tew, and Dick Twomey. Without the efforts of the local committee it would have been impossible for the staff in Baltimore to make the arrangements for this visit, and we express our sincere thanks to this hard-working group.

Others without whom today certainly would not have been possible, and who deserve our most appreciative thanks, include Cianbro Corporation for the use of the State Pier, the Connecticut State Department of Transportation for its administrative support and encouragement, the Thames Towboat Company, Inc. for tugboats for docking and undocking, and Captains Dave Leonard, Earl Maxlield and Dave McInerney for pilotage services.

1830 : About one-hundred associates of the Mystic Seaport Foundation (which sold

200 tickets for today's cruise!) board the Brown. This delightful group is primarily interested in seeing our rare double-acting triple expansion steam engine but they are equally impressed with the entire ship and the incredible accomplishments made since PLS' inception. We're all quite tired after the cruise but it is pure pleasure showing off our ship to these wonderful, appreciative folks. (Obviously no "green flash" spotting tonight!)

2330 : In my bunk for the last time, as I will depart by car tomorrow evening. It's difficult to believe this is the eleventh night aboard, and the near end of perhaps the most gratifying adventure of my life.

Sunday, August 24
New London
Sunny, cool, calm

0830 - 1500 : Open to the public.

1500 : Many visitors have toured the ship all day; rivet sales, etc. are brisk. Because of commitments at home I am to depart shortly and will miss the final two days of this marvelous adventure. Originally scheduled to leave about now with Brian Hope and Margaret Carty, both of whom came up from Baltimore Friday night (Margaret has been hard at work in the ship's store all weekend), I ask if we may stay an hour or so longer. Brian and Margaret graciously agree.

1630 : After a few hasty good-byes, our trio departs the John W. Brown and New London for Baltimore; Brian salutes the ship with three "blasts" from his Jeep's horn!

1645 : From Groton, Connecticut, across the-Themes River, we make a quick attempt to photograph the Brown docked in New London; I bid a silent, sweet farewell to my home for the past twelve days.

Epilogue

Tuesday, August 26
Pier 1, Clinton Street, Baltimore
Warm, sunny

1100 : Back home again, the Brown hums with activity not unlike that almost two weeks ago. She arrived in Baltimore Harbor earlier this morning but had to wait for a tug before she could dock. Spirits are high as crew members bask in the glow of a highly successful voyage. I am here partly to retrieve baggage left on board and partly because I just couldn't stay away!

The journey from New London to Baltimore, I am told, was a very pleasant one with clear skies and calm seas and proceeded without incident. Well... almost without incident. Herk Esibill came close to spending the greater part of the voyage trapped on the 'tween deck. It seems our persevering purser was hard at work in his office when the Brown set sail from New London. When he attempted to go topside he found all watertight doors secured as the ship was now in its ocean-going mode. Telephone efforts to contact the main deck and bridge proved fruitless. Herk was finally able to raise a rescue party by announcing his plight on the ship's PA system! Chief Mate Rick Bauman promptly retrieved him from "down under!"

With two shopping bags in hand I depart to teasing similar to that received upon arriving. While there is always a bit of a let down at the end of such a successful venture, there is little time for this today. Amidst farewells and departures the conversation has already turned to the Fall Chesapeake Bay Cruise-- which is less than two weeks away! Maybe, just maybe, after the cruise, as the sun sets across the Baltimore Harbor, I'll spot the "green flash..."