Ryan joined the Lady of Avenel in May as a bursary-sponsored participant on the Firth of Clyde voyage. Here's his blog entry:
Coming aboard the Lady of Avenel felt like stepping back in time. The hempen rope trailing up the mast, the canvas sails stowed across the yardarm, the rigging. It could have been ripped straight from a tale by Robert Louis Stevenson. As a primary school teacher, I’m used to playing roles: monster, dragon, evil wizard chasing my class around the playground. Today, however, it was real. I was a pirate, ready to sail to distant islands and see what treasure might be found.
It wasn’t long before I found my first gold, painted across the sky as the cold of the 5:30 a.m. air turned our breath into clouds. The crew was awake, but the rest of the passengers were still in deep slumber as we slipped out of the harbour on the high tide, clearing the sandbar and making our way towards Arran. The gold in the sky shifted as we sailed into the Firth of Clyde. First amber, then dazzling silver as day broke across the glass-calm ocean. This pirate was off to a fine start.
One treasure often neglected in pirate stories is knowledge. Barry, the skipper, and Nessie, the first mate, spent much of their time teaching me how to take my sailing experience and apply it to a tall ship: how to set and trim the sails, what each line was called, even the brutal task of sweating and tailing. On the windiest day of the trip, I learned to steer the boat accurately by compass and sighting, covering 70 miles in a single day. On the stiller days, I learned how to set anchors and climb the rigging.
The greatest treasure of all, though, was found off Sanda Island. After working to lash the sails, tidy the lines, and share an incredible lasagne followed by yet another fantastic session, I received an alert: Meteor shower tonight. So, alarm set for 3 a.m., I crept out of my bunk with a blanket and two beanbags, climbed on deck, and lay back to watch the sky. Coming from an island, I’m used to dark skies — but this was something else. No city glow, no clouds, no wind. Just the entire cosmos spread above me like a sea of jewels.
I watched shooting stars streak overhead, the boat rocking gently beneath me, until I drifted to sleep. I was woken by Nessie, who was just as surprised to find me there as I was to discover it was already morning. I loved the experience so much that I spent the rest of my nights on deck — just me, the sun, and the sky.
Now, however, I must hang up my tricorn hat and return to life on dry land. But I carry with me the skills I need should I ever decide to set out again: wind in my hair, deck beneath my feet, chasing the same treasures I found on this voyage — skies of gold, a glittering cosmos and the songs and stories shared while swinging on the hook.