Mediterranean Summer by David Shalleck

spreaders seventy feet above deck and proceeded to open the topsails, which then had to be tied off and trimmed at the pin rails located near the base of the masts. These added more sail area in which to catch precious wind. In heavy air, their lines could be tough to trim and make fast given the extreme forces on them. Raising the full suit of sails took us about forty-five minutes. Then we practiced using the large brass winches, the only electric equipment on deck, which were used for trimming the headsails. Throughout the day, we reviewed our repertoire of knots—bowlines, half hitches, clove hitches, locking hitches, slip hitches, square knots—and where to use them.
    For anchor and chain procedures one of us had to go below and open the chain lockers in the fo’c’sle to pack the chain, while another had to rinse it off with a seawater hose while it was brought in with the windlass on the foredeck. Getting the huge anchor on board took three of us to haul it up with a block and tackle then put it in its crutch. There were steps for hooking to moorings, managing the bow while the anchor was being let out when we backed into a slip, knowing the hand signals from the cockpit, fender placement, stern lines, spring lines,
passerelle
raising, lowering, and stowage, then deck washing and specific ways to dry the varnished wood with chamois. The docking procedures were our version of coming home, opening the electric garage door, and setting the parking brake.
    Throughout the whole process of getting the boat out of the harbor and under sail, piles of line were everywhere on deck.
Il Dottore
and
la Signora
remained in the cockpit with Michele in an effort to stay out of the way until the lines were coiled and stowed. During these procedures, I quickly came to understand what was expected of me as a crew member, which meant that I had to stay ahead in my work down below. Once the cruising began, I needed to be available for deck duties whenever Patrick or Kevin wanted me up top. At the same time, I didn’t want the owners to think I was straying too far from the main reason I was on board.
    Just after midday we anchored between the Îles de Lérins in front of Cannes.
Il Dottore
came forward for a little while to chat with his crew. He explained that on one of the islands, the landmark Fort Royal had held the Man in the Iron Mask, the prisoner made famous by Alexandre Dumas in the novel of the same name. There is still debate, he said, over his actual identity, and the mask was apparently not made of iron. It was a nice gesture on the part of
il Dottore,
a little bonding with his crew, sharing a bit of lore about the area we were calling.
    Rick served lunch to the owners and Michele in the cockpit while the crew ate family style around the crowded mess table. Rick and I had to stay in service, so it appeared our eating times were going to be before or after the others and most likely always on our feet. With the crew in the galley area and all the juggling of food, kitchenwares, and platters, my work space shrank by half. But the owners’ lunch looked fine. Fresh and simple, more knife work than cookery as I only needed one pot with one change of water—the first time for cooking the vegetables and eggs, the other for poaching the fish. When Rick brought the platters back to the galley, a decent amount of food remained, probably because I sent more than I needed to. I had prepared enough for six, but held back and sent out enough for four. But no word came back regarding the meal. Maybe because so much was happening on board that day, this was a working lunch.
    We took a break for an hour, then pulled up the hook and once again raised the sails to take long, leisurely downwind reaches back to Antibes. By early evening
Serenity
was tied up in her home slip. The skipper came below and told Rick and me to be on deck when the owners and Michele departed. Like clockwork, the owners’ jet-powered helicopter landed on the roof