We used them both aboard the training ship (an old destroyer) and at the Naval College and raced regularly under oars and sail, and a special race (called ‘crash whalers) under both where each leg of the course alternated between sail and oars. All masts and rigging had to be below the gunnel before oars were used and so on. The college staff and officers would watch from the breakwater and wives were warned the air would turn blue as tempers flared and orders were accompanied by salty language generally unbecoming of young gentlemen.
Interesting to note that the three oars on one side and two on the other was a hangover from their whaling origins as the bow oarsman was also the harpooner although I believe the kill was performed by the coxswain.
It was common when in the Great Barrier Reef for instance to send midshipmen off in the whaler and sail around an island and back similar to the expeditions in the video series. Sadly, in 1963, four mids and a sub-lieutenant drowned in one attempt, capsizing in strong winds and not being noted as missing until late in the day. The whaler was found with two bodies many miles downwind the following day.
Whalers were not easy to get going gain after a capsize, barely floating if fully swamped.
The bowman’s oar was shorter than the others if my memory serves me ( getting more difficult by the day). It was stowed blade forward so the bowman could get it out while the other four oarsmen were at their oars.
Duplicating Captain Vancouver’s use of small boats for charting the passage. This must leave the trainees with a depth of experience and understanding impossible to attain by any other means. It is an adventure they will never forget.
There are several outstanding books written about the 1792 expedition. Reading them while making the trip on a slow tug and barge really gave me an appreciation for what it took those explorers to accomplish.
You get that. A lot of people don’t. The mode of travel is purposely made inefficient, forcing the trainees to obsessively study the charts for a week.
Before that, ebb and flood were just words on a test back in school. Drop the young people down in the IP and they learn what ebb and flood really mean for vessel ops. They thought they knew. Now they really know and will never forget.
The first couple days the trainees are full of piss and vinegar and think they can out-muscle tide and wind. By the third day they are beat-down physically. Frankly, the fun is gone. Then they really devote brain power to figuring out how to work the tidal system and geography in their favor.
I don’t know how long this excellent training program has been going on but at some point it would interesting to know where the trainees ended up later and how they felt about the experience, even the ones no longer with CT. Hope you’re keeping tabs on them,
Episode 8: Rendezvous at Gorge Harbour
After six days of traveling, Oyster’s voyage on British Columbia’s Inside Passage comes to a close. The trainees pass under the majestic cliffs of Gorge Harbour to meet up with the mother boat, Curlew. After a feast, the trainees lift the 1750-pound Oyster aboard using just muscle power, before heading back to Seattle.
Season 2 begins, showcasing the 2025 Summer Maritime Program expedition.
The skipper of the Oyster expedition narrates these episodes. He spent a lot of his youth sailing small boats in Desolation Sound and the Inside Passage before becoming a deck officer for CTI, making him the ideal trainer to begin with the program eleven years ago.
For the next eight episodes he’ll give his insights on how the program works. This episode is a preview.
Coastal Transportation’s training boat Curlew arrives at the remote floating village of Sullivan Bay, BC. The crew launch the 1700-pound open-boat Oyster and stock her with supplies and provisions for a week of independent operations without motor or GPS, giving the trainees a deep dive into the art and science of navigation.
The trainees get underway in the open-boat Oyster: four men stuffed into about as much useable space as the bed of a pick-up truck. Today’s leg takes them from the floating village of Sullivan Bay to the Burdwood Islands.
The trainees on the open-boat Oyster struggle with an exhausting day of tacking and rowing into the wind. Their only consolation: the scenic beauty of British Columbia.
After endless tacking and a damaged sail, Oyster’s crew made a rough camp on the shores of Beware Passage. Now, contrary tidal currents delay their departure, only to encounter more frustrating hours tacking in westerly winds in Havanah Channel. But as evening descends they win through to Johnstone Strait for an exhilarating downwind sail under bare-pole to their next camp.
These trainees are gaining experience with tide and wind the hard way.
Day 4 of the Oyster training expedition has the crew carefully planning their ETAs for Whirlpool Rapids and Greene Point Rapids.
To cross these dangers safely they’ll need to calculate the times of slack (calm water), exactly as they will do when they are deck officers on ships covering these same waters.
Nevertheless, converging saltwater currents stop the Oyster cold and force her crew to camp on a tiny islet, just as a storm blows in.
Exhausted and exposed to torrential rain, Oyster’s crew rows toward the last stretch of rapids before they can rendezvous with the Curlew. The eagerness of Day One gives way to dogged determination as these merchant mariner trainees chart their way home.
SEASON END:
Determined to end their voyage on the sixth day, the trainees tack against adverse winds until they can thread the cliffs of Gorge Harbor BC and finally meet up with the Curlew. The young men talk reflect on what is the most rewarding, and toughest, of all merchant marine training experiences
