FIRST TRIP OF THE SEASON

We boarded our first group of guests for the season on Friday.  Pouring rain, and a grim forecast, had us worried about the comfort and experience for our new arrivals.  The galley stove was cranked up, fresh coffee was made and shortbread cookies had just been pulled from the oven. At least we could offer a warm, dry haven.

The first guests arrive, a family of five, at 1800hrs, boarding time, The show starts now. It does have all the feeling of an opening night with both the excitement and fear.  Our guest are shown their cabins and given a short introduction, a more lengthy welcome will be given later at Captains call.  The rain is still coming down and the wind is howling, not what we consider the best conditions for any boarding night, let alone our first.

It is now my turn to welcome them down into the galley.  The brass has been polished, the copper water tank looks as bright as a new penny.  A fresh coat of paint and varnish add to the warm glow of the space and window boxes, with green herbs, balance it all out.  

I greet our guests and welcome them down into my space.  I explain about coming down the ladder backwards, show them where the coffee mugs are and give a little talk about the galley routine.  The wind and rain lashes against the cabin top and I wonder if this family is wondering about their vacation choice.  My fears vanish when the mother says that she is just happy to be in Maine.  The whole family has a "Camper" attitude about the weather and I can tell that they will have a great time.  

The morning brings more rain and higher winds.  I have had the stove going since 0400 and coffee and muffins are ready by 0600.  Breakfast and lunch have been started. The galley smells of bacon and fresh roasted coffee along with salt pork and sautted onions for the fish chowder at lunch.  The griddle is heating on the stove, waiting for the first blueberry pancakes of the season and the maple syrup is sitting on the warming shelf.

Late arriving guests are welcomed into the galley and handed steaming cups of coffee. Captain Owen informs us that we may be spending the day at the dock do to the weather conditions. Other schooners in the fleet are also keeping an eye on the weather and making plans accordingly.  After a hearty breakfast our guest walk into town and visit the local museums.  Both the Farnsworth art museum and the lighthouse museum are very close, as are the shops on Maine street.

Though the sky is still grey, the wind and rain have let up some and Captain Owen gets the Schooner underway later in the day.  Other schooners follow our lead and though we only go as far as the shelter of the breakwater we are underway.  We round the corner of Lermonds cove, and it feels as though all the small things that have been weighing us down vanish with the sea air.

Anchor chain has been flaked out and a crew member stands by with, catstop in hand, waiting for the Captain Owen to give the order to "Let her go".  Soon we are riding at anchor. The awkward motion of the schooner tied to the dock  is gone, the pull and jerk of the dock lines has been replaced by a gentle motion.

Captain Owen purchased lobsters before we departed and this evening we will have our first "Bake" of the season.  The large lobster pot is set up and water is coming to a boil. The corn has been husked and the large skillet is on the galley stove, filled with sweet onions being browned and awaiting beef franks.

Newspaper has been spread out on the galley table, melted butter has been poured into cups and soon we are all sitting down to a wonderful feast.  I place two trays of "Smores" into the oven and a fresh pot of coffee is brewed.  That evening the galley is full of laughter as Captain Owen tells stories of sailing and other adventures.  All is well.

STOVE IS UP AND RUNNING

I spent my first day back on the boat getting the galley sanded and then a fresh coat of paint.  I pulled the pots, pans and other cooking tools out of storage, put them in their respective cupboards and drawers. 

 Next comes the big moment,  firing up the galley stove,  700lbs of cast iron that has been sitting cold and unused for more than half the year.  The beast of a stove was cast at the Lunenburg foundry. It is a double oven model with a center firebox.  Origianly built to burn coal, as were most of the ships stoves used in the Canadian fishing schooners and trawlers, it was converted to burn diesel sometime around the middle of the last century.

 The process of lighting the the stove is rather simple.  The center stove lid is lifted, the fuel valve is opened for about ten seconds, creating a puddle of fuel in the bottom of the firebox.  Then a ball of waxed paper is set down in the pool of diesel, this acts as a wick, diesel fuel, especially when it is cold, is very difficult to ignite.  A match is lit and touched to a corner of the waxed paper.  The stove lid is put part way on, leaving just a small opening that I can view the flame with.  The paper burns and heats up the diesel, the flame is thick and yellow, and needs more air.  On the front face of the stove is a small squirrel cage blower, this provides the extra air needed for a clean burn, much like a small home furnace.

The flame goes from a oily yellow to a bright yellow/white.  As it heats up I can now turn the fuel valve open and increase the size of the flame.  This is a gradual process as turning on the fuel full bore will cause a sooty mess, not so much in the galley but up on deck.

When I feel that the flame has been well established I slide the lid off and put the water on to boil for coffee.  It will take about 45 minutes before the water is boiling the first time, remember that it is 700lbs of cast iron that needs to be heated also.

I will pour myself a cup of last nights coffee, kept hot in a thermos, It will be an hour or so before the ovens are hot enough for baking. I will use this time to write in my journal, read a bit or just get back in my bunk and sip my cup of coffee.

For the next few months this will be my morning routine.  Simple, peaceful, fulfilling.

                                                 http://www.windjammervacation.com/

MUSHROOMS GALORE!

Many years ago I was given a gift of a field guide to mushrooms,   I took to the woods that evening,with guidebook in hand, and hopes of finding my first edible mushroom.  Hours of walking around and though I found mushrooms at almost every turn they all were of the deadly variety.  I was about to call it a day when a small cluster of orange caught my eye.  Thumbing through my book I found a photo that matched. I read the description and about possible "Lookalikes"  I had found my first edible mushroom, four little Chanterelles.

I could not have been happier if I had found a pot of gold (OK,perhaps not that happy)  I have found many other edible mushrooms since then, but the Morel, considered a very choice edible, had eluded me.

I was at the tail end of a cross country bicycle trip, and spending a few days in Ohio with friends, I was told that a certain old apple tree, rumored to have been planted by John Chapman, aka "Johnny Appleseed". Was a good spot to find Morels.  It had rained a few days before, and it had now warmed up, perfect conditions.  I set out with a sharp knife, a little basket and a feeling of excitement.

The apple tree  stands not far from the farm house that I was staying in.  The trunks was a good eight feet in diameter, but the tree itself is just a little over ten feet high.  Twisted, bent and hollow, but in full bloom, it was still producing apples at well over a hundred years old.

Approached carefully, not wishing to find my first Morel with the heel of my boot.  The area around the tree had been beautifully landscaped with Hostas, Columbine and Trillium and I felt that even if I did not find a single Edible mushroom that day, just siting under this tree was enough.

Picking up a little stick, I began to poke and prod. I was beginning to feel as though this was going to be a fruitless hunt when I spotted an odd shape between a rock and a cluster of ferns.  It was only anout two inches high but it was a beautifully shaped Morel.  At long last I had found one!  Then I spotted another, and another.  Though I only found four that day, a small number by any standard, I felt like I had found a pot of gold.

RHUBARB CRISP

Let me say right off the bat. I do not like strawberries with my rhubarb.  Love strawberry shortcake, strawberry jam, and strawberry ice cream, but keep them out of my rhubarb pie and crisps!

• 3/4 cup sugar
• 3 tablespoons cornstarch
• 3 cups sliced fresh rhubarb 
• 1 cup old-fashioned oats
• 1/2 cup packed brown sugar
• 1/2 cup butter, melted
• 1/3 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• Vanilla ice cream, optional

Directions

• In a large bowl, combine sugar and cornstarch. Add rhubarb, toss to coat. Spoon into an 8-in. square baking dish.
• In a small bowl, combine the oats, brown sugar, butter, flour and cinnamon until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Sprinkle over fruit. Bake at 350° for 45 minutes or until bubbly and fruit is tender. Serve warm with ice cream if desired. Yield: 8 servings.