Thomaston Public Library Movie for May 16

THE ECONOMICS OF HAPPINESS will be shown at the Thomaston Library on Wednesday, May 16, at 6:30 pm.

This film shows the disruption to communities around the world by "globalization," covering problems such as financial instability and unemployment, ethnic conflict, and climate change. And it also shows that there are communities that are resisting big money and power. Commentators, including Bill McKibbon and David Korten, as well as spiritual and communty leaders from many countries provide inspiration and ideas for moving to local sustainable communities. The film is a little over one hour long, allowing time for discussion.

You can read about it at this website http://www.theeconomicsofhappiness.org

This event is free and open to the public.

FMI, contact Carmen Lavertu at 354-9556 or clavertu@gmail.com

The Traverse Board

This interesting tidbit of historical navigation devices was included in the latest newsletter from the Sail, Power and Steam Museum, “Reading Both Pages.”

The traverse board is a memory aid formerly used in dead reckoning navigation to easily record the speeds and directions sailed during a watch. Even an illiterate crew member could reckon with this simple device.

The traverse board is a wooden board with peg-holes and attached pegs. It is divided into two parts. The top part is for recording direction sailed. It has a compass rose with its 32 compass points, just as it would on the face of the ship’s compass. Eight concentric rings are inscribed on the compass rose, each with one peg hole at each point of the compass. Eight pegs are attached to the center of the compass rose with strings.

The bottom part is for recording speed. It has 4 rows of holes. Each column represents a certain speed, measured in knots. Eight pegs are attached to this part of the board.

Each half-hour during the watch, a crew member would insert a peg in the top portion of the board to represent the heading sailed during that half-hour, as is shown on the ship’s compass. The innermost ring of peg-holes is used for the first half hour, the second for the second half-hour, and so on until all 8 rings were use.

Each hour during the watch, a crew member would insert a peg in the bottom portion of the board to represent the speed sailed during the hour. The speed would have been measured using a chip log. If the speed for the first hour of the watch were 101⁄2 knots, the crew member would count over 10 holes in the first row and place one peg, then place another peg in the column marked “1/2”. In the second hour of the watch, the crew member would use the second row of pegs, and so on until all 4 rows were used.

At the end of the watch, the navigator would collect the information about the speeds and directions sailed during the watch, clear the pegs from the board, and use the information to figure the vessel’s dead reckoning track.

Meanwhile, the helm of the new watch would begin recording the new sailing headings and speeds on the traverse board. Remember, dead reckoning was the only method the navigator had to determine longitude and the calculations were fraught with errors until the invention of the Harrison chronometer (1737).

Student Sailor Comes Home

Aboard the Harvey Gamage

Harvey Gamage as it sails into New York City.

Our student sailor, Elizabeth Sherfey, granddaughter of my friend, Jean Monroe, has come home from her classroom on the ocean. This is the latest blog from the trip. See some great video of the homecoming to Gamage Shipyard, where the Harvey Gamage was built, at http://www.oceanclassroom.blogspot.com.

"If I make it there I'll make it anywhere. It's up to you New York, New York"
Frank Sinatra's voice sang out over the intercom and carried us all on deck. As I left the companionway my breath was taken: above us, Lady Liberty emerged from the fog, tall and noble, and students stood in wonder, all except Patricia and Elizabeth who danced the Foxtrot with big goofy grins painted on their faces. We remained on deck long after the city lights came out. They were a departure from the starry night sky, but they were beautiful.

From the moment we entered Sandy Hook Channel I was inspired by the students. They successfully tacked up and down the Lower Hudson with Brendan at the helm, an impressive feat considering the traffic, variable winds and pressure of getting each tack just right. This would have seemed impossible two months ago, but they handled it with ease. Peter W had planned our course through tight channels and he and Claire used the chart and buoys to successfully complete the task. Once anchored, Lady Liberty watched over us throughout the stormy night. The next morning we woke to beckoning seas and marveled at the city as we passed through the East River. With students perched aloft photographing the skyscrapers, I couldn't help but revel in the fact that the first skyscrapers were not in cities, but on the sea. Old square-rigged ships carried sails so high they were referred to as sky-scrapers, and above that were the moon-rakers and then star-gazers. Inspiration all around.

Our passage up the Long Island Sounds was a high point of the trip; the conditions were perfect and we traveled 5 knots using only the staysail. Students were in high spirits despite the cold. In Mystic we made connections to our maritime past, visiting the Charles W. Morgan, various exhibits of all things maritime including figureheads and music, and even had the chance to row whaling boats. Students worked on their ditty bags in a sail loft and experienced Mystic Seaport in the intimate way of a mariner.

Our visit in Mystic coincided well with academics. In Maritime Literature students discussed The Sea-Wolf while sitting in the fish hold of the L.A. Dutton, an old and fast whaling schooner. In Maritime History students are finishing their independent research projects, and those who are researching whaling and fishing sailboats found themselves immersed in their topics of study. In Marine Science students are finishing independent lab reports. With the end of the semester quickly approaching, students find themselves busy, both with schoolwork and with the pressing need to make the most of every second.

A special thank you to Katie's parents and grandparents for their hospitality. We all enjoyed the barbeque immensely.

Abbey, Literature Teacher

Unforgettable

There is a show on TV right now starring Poppy Montgomery called “Unforgettable.” She plays a cop who has total recall. I also remember this song, “Unforgettable,” by Nat King Cole that was later done as a duet with his daughter after his death through the miracle of modern recording devices.

Mary Lou Henner, of “Taxi” fame, the old TV show, has total recall in real life. That means that given any day in the history of her life, she can recall every detail of what she was doing that day; with whom she interacted etc. Supposedly, only 125 people in the whole world have what is called “total recall.”

I’m not sure I would be happy with this “gift.” Having such a memory would mean you would remember every detail of all the bad things that have happened in your life, as well as the good things. I still have my memories of the flood of almost three years ago, especially the sewer smell in the house and the never-ending rain. I still occasionally have nightmares about it. The sooner those memories fade into the past, the better I’ll like it.

Think about the memories you have of your childhood. Many of them are connected to the senses; like the smells of your mother’s cooking; the smell of seaweed and salt air; the vision of sea smoke or fog as it comes in from the sea and distorts the view around you.

Any kid who grew up along the coast of Maine has these memories of living by the Atlantic Ocean. Kids from Alaska know many different names for snow. Kids in California have many names for the wind. Kids along the coast of Maine have many names for the water and for waves. We "coastal" people have a collective memory of the sights, sounds, and tastes associated with the Atlantic Ocean.

We knew when an incoming wave would be a gentle one which we could jump over as it came to shore. We knew that another wave coming in might splash all over us as we sat on a rock by the water. “Choppy water” wasn’t a good condition in which to take the rowboat out. “Rough water” was mostly experienced in “open water” or water where no land is visible. You might get rough water on a ferry ride over to the islands. You could see some seals sunning themselves on a small island or see osprey nests, but otherwise, it was just “open water.”

“Mild as a millpond” referred to water that appeared like glass, usually in the evening. That kind of water was good for a moonlight cruise perhaps.

Those of us who moved away in our young adult years hold these memories of the water close to our hearts, especially if we live away from any kind of water source. It’s the reason we return home as often as we can. The water draws us home again in our retirement years. It’s also why some of us can’t bear to leave it at all, which perpetuates so many family names in our area.

As we grow older, those memories of family members who have passed on grow dimmer. We desperately try to remember what their laugh sounded like; how they talked and moved about the earth.

One day we look in the mirror and the memories flood back as we see our mother or father staring back at us. The older I get, the more I look like the old pictures I have of my mother. For a time in my life, I looked like my father’s family. In the end, I guess I carried on traits from both sides.

Once in a while, though, I laugh at something and I can hear the echo of my mother’s laugh. I also have discovered I cough the same way.  My sister and I also sound like her on the telephone. I often got confused by my mother’s friends when I came home to visit. If I hadn’t stopped them I may have found out some real juicy gossip I suppose. Funny how those memories stick with you.

When the family got together for one last picnic down at the cottage in Spruce Head before my folks gave possession of the place over to the new owners, my brother-in-law took some film of the event. I have a copy of it. As I watched it the last time I see my mother walking across the porch. A few minutes later, I walked across the porch, with the same gait that she had! Later on, when I talked to my sister about that quirk I thought was unique to my mother and me, she said, “We all walk that way.”

I suppose if our mothers teach us to walk by watching how they do it, that we naturally would walk the same way. I don’t know if this phenomena is unique to just my family or not, but our memories are made from close association with our mothers for the first few years of our life. It may be possible that their traits will also become part of our makeup.


Many times when I meet people for the first time they will stare at me for the longest time and try to place me in their personal history. They ask me if I was ever in a particular place or took part in some activity with them. I used to try to help them out but soon discovered that it was useless. I simply tell them now that I have "a familiar face."

“Memories are made of this” as the song goes. Recollections are not always remembered the same way by two people who experienced the same event. Rather than having the trait or “gift” of total recall, perhaps how we remember something means that’s how we should remember it. Warm memories will last our lifetime. Bad memories we hope will fade with time. I think I prefer it that way. I wish you only happy memories.

Thanks for listening.