Boy Scouts of America High Adventure Sea Base Program
The Abaconian - 1 September 2002

William H Albury Takes Sea Scouts
Theresa Pinder

The world was a watery blur through my glasses. Icy water oozed through my jacket and trickled down my neck. Soaked from crown to toe, I was freezing and virtually blind. This was sailing?

Perhaps if I had seen this aspect before I agreed to go along with the Abaco Boy Scouts on their annual High Adventure Sea Base trip, I would have remained warm, dry, and safe on land. But throwing caution to the winds, I armed myself with a bottle of sun-block, a camera, a hat, and boarded the William H. Albury. The last boat built traditionally in Man-O-War Cay, and now owned by Joe Maggio, it is presently one of seven boats engaged in the Boy Scouts of America High Adventure Sea Base Program.

Every year, the National Council of Boy Scouts of America runs this program that gives American Scouts the opportunity to learn how to sail a tall ship, and also a chance to view the various cays of Abaco, to learn a little of its history. Another facet of the program is to teach the scouts how to be dependable teammates. The sailing process forces the scouts to rely on each other, and themselves; if someone does not function competently as part of the team, it can endanger the rest of the crew.

Starting in March, usually taking a break in April, and then continuing in June through to the end of August, a new troop of scouts is brought in each week. They arrive, are taken directly to the Moorings, tested for swimming ability and then taken to the William H. Albury. The scouts spend the entire week on board the schooner, cooking, cleaning, eating, and sleeping on deck when the weather permits. At 70 feet long and weighing 25 tons, it takes the scouts about three days to learn to competently sail the schooner. The rest of the week is spent touring the cays and snorkeling, swimming, and of course, sailing to every destination. The last week of this summer program is designated to the Abaco Boy Scouts. This year, the expedition was off to a slow start. Scheduled to leave the Marsh Harbour base at the Moorings on Tuesday, August 13, the trip had to be delayed until Thursday, turning what was originally meant to be a four-day trip into just an overnight voyage.

Nine oclock Thursday morning, I met the mixed troop of scouts, ranging in age from eleven to fourteen, and Group Scout Leader Mr. Huel Moss. While waiting for high tide to cast off, the scouts were given a tour of the William H. and a briefing on the rules of safety. We were taken below, to the Main Cabin, or Fore Cabin as it is known, where the majority of dried food is stored, and four tiny sleeping compartments are housed. The Main Cabin opens into the Galley, also known as the kitchen by us landlubbers. The galley opens into the fo'c'sle (pronounced folk-sull), the sailor's variant of forecastle. It seems that the sailors' expeditious way of life also encompasses their speech. Or perhaps words with more than one syllable were too much of a bother to pronounce properly.

The First Mate showed the Scouts how to prepare the boat to be cast off. The scouts removed the awnings and sail covers, folded and stowed them. Water and power source connections to the dock were severed and all dock lines were disconnected. We then motored out of the harbour. At the edge of the harbour, the First Mate and scouts prepared the William H. to sail. The Scouts help was enlisted to raise the main sail, the foresail and the inner jib. From there on, it seemed effortless. The motor was turned off and the ship sailed on under the strength of the wind, the deck pitching gently beneath our feet. It was almost eerie, yet exhilarating, traveling in this way in a time when noise and traffic are common occurrences. The William H. moved easily through the water, the only sounds being water gliding past the hull and the sails flapping in the breeze.

This was sailing.

After an hour and a half under sail, Guana Cay came into sight. Mooring just outside the harbour, the scout galley crew was called upon to extend their skills toward making lunch. Next stop: the beach at Nippers for a snorkeling expedition. Unfortunately, the current was too strong, and the scouts had to be satisfied with a swim before returning to the schooner.

With the descent of night came the dreaded challenge: using the head. It sounds strange, but if you have the same limited experience as I have with ships, then the thought of using the bathroom aboard ship can be quite daunting. The basic idea might be the same, but operation is slightly different, involving a complex system (or so I thought) of counting the number of pumps and toggling switches. The constricting space and claustrophobia were not exactly helpful either. However, despite all obstacles, I persevered. My mission complete, I scurried out and prayed that I had not clogged it.

Next morning, everyone was up and about by 7:30, ready to greet the first task of the day - polishing brass. Polishing the brass on the ship, the portholes, the latches and the ships bell, is a necessary chore, one that helps preserve and maintain their life. The Scouts took to it with zeal.

Once the mornings chores were out of the way, the scouts got a chance to snorkel in the waters surrounding the ship before we were underway again. This time returning to port, we attempted to sail, but wind direction was unsuitable; it would have taken approximately four hours to sail from Guana Cay back into the harbour, so the sails were lashed down, awnings were set up and the motor employed. Even so, it was slow going. In the distance, rain clouds hung low on the horizon. A chill wind swept up, a promise of inevitable rain. Sure enough, just outside of the harbour, a storm cloud swept in, obscuring the world in the gray haze of an icy deluge.

The first Mate, hidden deep within the folds of a jacket, crowed in delight and skipped to stand in the bow of the ship. Now this is sailing! Huddled on deck, I eased my death-grip on the lifeline long enough to replace the cowl over my head, and stared at the first mate in bewilderment. White capped waves surrounded the rocking ship on all sides, and land was hidden behind a sheet of rain. This was his idea of sailing? I shook my head, wishing that I was below decks with the scouts, warm, dry and safe from madmen.

In spite of the seemingly endless time we spent traveling through the storm (it lasted about fifteen minutes), we arrived safely into port without mishap. Our time together was up, and it was time to say goodbye to my shipmates and get back to reality. It was definitely a trip to remember; the scouts had coped quite well in such a short time, considering that they were not quite sure what they were getting into. They enjoyed themselves immensely, and I would do it again if I could, especially if I could participate as an actual scout. It is an appealing program, one that gains a large response every year. As a matter of fact, another ship is joining the fleet next year, bringing the number up to a total of eight engaging in this High Adventure program.