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Sunday, September 22, 2019

Are cruise ships doomed?


Arriving at a European port on a cruise ship can be a strangely claustrophobic experience.  It is sobering indeed to wake up to find your ship edging into a tight berth within a line of other cruise liners.  And it is even more thought-provoking to find that you have been docked miles and miles away from port, or that you are anchored a long tender ride from the nearest quay.  Indeed, arriving at a port which has not been "blessed" with big cruise ship arrivals -- as happened with us at St John's, Newfoundland -- is quite a treat.

The popular ports are finding the deluge of visitors uncomfortable -- as witness the graffiti in Barcelona telling tourists in no uncertain terms to "go home."  Dubrovnik is another example, as this item from The Guardian describes in an essay by Kate Connolly, titled A rising tide: over-tourism and the curse of the cruise ships.

Last year, as she describes, around three million visitors descended on the old town, most of them having poured out of around 400 cruise ships docked in the harbor.  A lot of this popularity is due to the hit TV series, "Game of Thrones," but it also must be remembered that this is a historic site, vulnerable to damage. Critics say the influx is causing long-term damage, but with the livelihoods of 80% of the locals dependent on tourist traffic, some are reluctant to address the problems.
Not only is there great strain on facilities such as sewage systems, and inevitable pollution, but there is an awful tackiness taking over from the sense of history.  Where once there were bookshops, bakeries, butchers, hair salons and markets, tacky souvenir shops and stalls now cater to the tourists. The boats themselves also burn huge amounts of fossil fuel, creating water, air and noise pollution, and severely affect the marine ecosystem.
So, what can be done about it?  Officials, it seems, are becoming uneasy. A growing sense among city residents that tourism has become overtourism has caused the mayor to introduce tighter controls: during mornings just two ships can dock, with a third after midday. Next year a limit of 4,000 daily visitors will be allowed ashore, and in two years each will face a €2 tax.
It isn't as if the city itself benefits financially from the burden cruise ships impose.  As we cruisers all know, the ships keep their engines running in port, generating their own electricity to keep the air conditioning flowing, the fridges running, and the elevators going up and down.  So another proposal is that the ships are forced to draw their electricity from the local grid.  But how can the local authorities enforce this?  Not easily.
Other ports face the same problem.  In Montenegro, the tiny city of Kotor often has three huge ships docked in port, each staying for an average of 12 hours. The third most popular cruise ship destination in the Adriatic, Kotor expects a total of 500 cruise ships in 2019, bringing more than half a million people. “Compare this to 2003 when there were just 50 ships and 50,000 people,” says Vesna Mačič from Kotor’s institute of Marine Biology.


Kotor is even more at risk than Dubrovnik because Montenegro is outside the EU, so EU laws don’t apply. The city has no recognised marine reserves, ships can use cheaper oil containing sulphur, and there are no restrictions on noise, which is known to damage organisms such as fish, dolphins and turtles. Kotor’s location – at the end of the Boka Kotorska bay, which is surrounded by large mountains – means gases emitted by cruise ships linger for longer, damaging local air quality. Fishermen and marine biologists also complain that the ships drag along the bottom of the bay, damaging the ecosystem, and that they discharge waste water, thus releasing foreign matter into the bay and further upsetting the natural balance. Flowering sea grass, clams and the rich seabed flora are said to have suffered as a result.
There is also the problem that the cruise ships are getting too BIG.  The latest to join the fleets are designed for up to 6,000 passengers, plus large crews, meaning that on any one afternoon over 20,000 people can descend onto a city.  No wonder the "hop on, hop off" buses line up on the nearest street -- and no wonder that traffic jams pile up.  It is also a strain on the ports, which can often handle only one behemoth at a time, so that the two or more that arrive later have to anchor in the harbor, and tender their passengers on shore.
The cruise line operators are certainly aware of the problem.  Every cruise ship I have voyaged on has been careful about following local rules, such as sailing very slowly in seas where whales migrate and dolphins play.  But it does seem to me that the future of cruising lies with the smaller ships, which can visit less frequented beauty spots, and sail in shallower waters.

Friday, September 20, 2019

A winter iced in, in the Arctic


The New York Times reports that there is to be a deliberate stranding in the Arctic this northern winter.

In the picture above, the German research vessel Polastern is to the right, and a Russian icebreaker vessel to the left, in the harbor at Tromso, Norway. On Friday evening, both ships will set off for the Laptev Sea, where the Polastern will allow itself to be fully frozen into sea ice for about a year to get a better understanding of how climate change is impacting the Arctic region.

This self-stranding may seem innovative, but it is certainly not new.  Back in the late nineteenth century, whaling captains deliberately over-wintered in the Arctic -- but not in the cause of studying climate change.  Their motive was brutally materialistic: to have the first chance at attacking the spring whale migration, being there before the rest of the fleet arrived.

At the end of autumn, the ships were anchored together in so-called "winter berths," off Herschel Island in the Beaufort Sea. Shelters were built over the decks, and banked up with snow -- forming an igloo village -- and so a strange community evolved.  Local natives built their own igloos near the ships, taking advantage of these new customers and their interesting company.   There was a lot of trading, as the captains -- quite illegally -- sold guns, ammunition, and tobacco for ivory and furs. Arctic foxes hung around the town, too, attracted by the unusual amount of garbage.

Obviously, it was a strange, long, dark winter.  What is amazing is that women stood it, too -- because their whaling captain husbands insisted that they come along.

One was Viola Cook, wife of Captain John Atkins Cook.



Well, looking at her image, one would imagine she was a proud, independent woman.  It is hard to picture her huddled in furs, bored out of her mind in the dark and cold.  So, did she go with her husband of her own free will?

It seems unlikely.  When Viola first sailed Arctic-bound on the steam whaler Navarch in 1893, the official story was that she traveled for her health.  It may even have been true -- when she boarded the ship, she weighed 93 pounds, and when she returned, on November 23, 1896, she weighed 130.  But was this due to regained vitality, or simply the result of four months of enforced inactivity?

After that, the newspaper reporters liked to believe that she went along "to please her husband, -- cheering abandoning the pleasures of home life to give companionship to her husband and to share and brave all dangers."  The truth, however, was that John Atkins Cook was a tough old customer, who issued orders and expected them to be obeyed.


That first winter had not been so bad, as other whaling wives had been stranded in the Arctic, too.  One was 29-year-old Sophie Porter, of the Jesse H. Freeman, who had her five-year-old daughter, Dorothy, with her. Another was Mrs. Albert Sherman, who had a two-year-old son, while others were Mrs. Green and her niece, Lucy, and Mrs. Weeks, on the Thrasher.

They managed a surprisingly lively existence.  They went sledding, played whist, and hosted each other to elaborate dinners.  The menu for one ran: "Lobster salad & olives, Oyster Pate with French Peas," followed by "Bartlett Pears, with citron & sponge cake," which is quite a testament to what stewards could do with very limited ingredients.  Mrs. Green staged a grand ball on the Alexander, and Mrs. Sherman had a birthday party of little Bertie on the Beluga.  It was all spoiled somewhat when Captain Week fell into the hold of the Thrasher, and died of his injuries, though it was certainly easy to preserve his body for burial in the Spring.  And on June 8, 1894, Mrs. Sherman cheered them all up by giving birth to a daughter, who was named Helen Hershel Sherman.

But, on the following Arctic over-winterings, Viola Cook was the sole female presence.  On the 1905 season (her ninth) her health completely collapsed, probably from scurvy, and when she finally got home to Provincetown, she mutinied . . . with very strange results.

You can read about it here.

Tuesday, September 17, 2019

An artistic jest

From the New York Times 

Will Banksy’s Chimpanzees Laugh to a Record $2 Million?



What effect did the artist’s 2018 salesroom prank have on his prices? A major sale at Sotheby’s looks set to reveal the impact.
LONDON — Banksy, the world’s favorite artist-provocateur, is set to enjoy another moment of auction activism.
The Bristol-born street artist created a global media sensation last October when one of his iconic “Girl With Balloon” paintings shredded itself moments after selling for one million pounds, or about $1.4 million, at Sotheby’s.
Almost exactly a year later, on Oct. 3, another notable Banksy painting will be offered in the same London salesroom. With a valuation of £1.5 million to £2 million, it is expected to reach a new auction high for the elusive, anonymous artist.
The painting, “Devolved Parliament,” dating from 2009, is a timely satire on Britain’s political establishment, showing an animated debate in the House of Commons, the lower house of Parliament, conducted entirely by chimpanzees.


Wittily painted with the dreary realism of the paintings that hang in Britain’s Houses of Parliament and measuring more than 14 feet wide, the painting was shown at Bristol Museum & Art Gallery in the artist’s hometown to coincide with Britain’s scheduled departure from the European Union on March 29 this year, a date that was postponed until Oct. 31. “Devolved Parliament” will now be displayed in London just four weeks before the revised Brexit deadline.
Demand for Banksy’s paintings and prints has surged since last October when Alex Branczik, Sotheby’s head of contemporary art in Europe, announced “We’ve been Banksy-ed” at a post-sale news conference. The remote-controlled shredding mechanism jammed halfway down the canvas, leaving it dangling beneath its elaborate gold frame: Banksy aficionados quickly claimed this “Girl With Balloon” had added value as a unique piece of performance art. Soon after, Sotheby’s announced that the buyer, described as a “female European collector,” was happy to keep her booby-trapped purchase.
The painting, now retitled “Love Is in the Bin,” has since March been hanging on long-term loan at the Staatsgalerie in Stuttgart, Germany. “Presented in the museum context, it has to stand up to key works from the history of art — from Rembrandt to Duchamp and from Holbein to Picasso,” says the Staatsgalerie’s website.
The artistic prank of the century, designed to satirize the excesses of the auction world, has now become a highly valued museum piece.
This time around, it seems that Banksy himself is not behind the sale. Sotheby’s catalog entry for “Devolved Parliament” says the work was “acquired from the artist by the present owner in 2011.” Banksy’s publicist, Joanna Brooks, said in an email, “The painting in question is being sold by the owner who is in no way associated with the artist Banksy.”
Story by Scott Reyburn

Monday, September 9, 2019

The Maritime World of the Hanseatic League


From Chris Morris at the BBC  

Was it the first EU?

Behind the station on the banks of the River Thames, a street sign - Hanseatic Walk - gives a clue to the wealthy merchants who once dominated the area.
And on the red-brick wall of the Cannon Street railway bridge sits a plaque unveiled in 2005, commemorating “600 years during which time some 400 Hanseatic merchants inhabited peacefully in the City of London… a German self-governing enclave on this site”.
This was the London base of the Hanseatic League - a powerful trading network for hundreds of years, stretching all the way from the East of England to the heart of Russia. 
It was one of the most successful trade alliances in history - at its height the League could count on the allegiance of nearly 200 towns across northern Europe. 
London was never formally one of the Hanseatic cities, but it was a crucial link in the chain - known as a kontor or trading post. The community of German merchants who lived on the banks of the Thames were exempt from customs duties and certain taxes. 
“At any given time they probably had about 15% market share of English imports and exports,” says Jens Tholstrup, an economist with a strong interest in the Hanseatic period. 
Their reputation for reliability was such that it has often been suggested that the UK currency, Sterling, was a shortened form of “Easterling” - the local name for the Hanseatic traders. 
This theory has been contested in recent years, but Tholstrup says the merchants nevertheless earned the trust of their English neighbours.
“It was a sign of their probity, that people trusted their currency. So when merchants here in England wanted to be paid in Easterling pounds, there was a sense that that was something they could rely on.” 
The League’s London base was known as the Steelyard (see the lovely etching at the head of this post) - probably because of the metal seals used to certify the origin of different types of cloth brought here for export.
None of its buildings - the warehouses, chapel, guildhall or residential quarters – remain. But as Alison Gowman, a City of London alderman, points out, their presence is revealed in place names - Steelyard Passage, running under Cannon Street station, or the Pelt Trader pub, beneath a railway arch. “It’s opposite Skinners’ Hall where the fur trade was based, and the Pelt Trader has used that name as a reminder of one of the most important Hanseatic imports into London. It’s a fantastic link.” 
The Steelyard came to dominate England’s cloth trade, and the wealth of its German merchants was captured in Hans Holbein’s 16th Century portraits. 




Success also bred resentment and disputes with local traders, but it was an early example of pan-European co-operation. So to what extent can the Hanseatic League be seen as a forerunner of today’s European Union?

“People sometimes misuse the term and say the Hanseatic League promoted free trade. They absolutely did not. Their whole strategy was about creating monopolies and negotiating privileges,” says Tholstrup.“But on the other hand, I think they created a network and developed prosperity at a time when the Baltic was a pretty bleak place. So the transformation they helped to generate was the origin of the prosperity of northwestern Europe.” 

The League certainly did intervene at times in politics, supporting monarchs, imposing trade boycotts, and fighting wars. But Alison Gowman insists the primary objective was always financial.“It was in order to keep their trade routes open. And, in that sense, it was about freedom to trade rather than free trade, and I think that is an important element of how the EU developed.”

What the League did not have, of course, was the kind of political and economic structures we now associate with the EU. But as the UK prepares for Brexit, could it provide a model for trading links in the years ahead?

Saturday, September 7, 2019

Sailing through the Panama Canal


Having just returned from an amazing world cruise on the Sea Princess, I am often asked what was the highlight, and unhesitatingly, the answer is, transiting the Panama Canal.  It is an incredible engineering feat.

The Panama Canal was constructed in the beginning of the XX century, connecting the Atlantic with the Pacific Oceans. The first journey through was conducted in 1914. Although it is not an easy one, roughly 14,000 ships yearly transit through the canal today.

But all the ships I watched trudging through the system of locks were large.  Indeed, the Sea Princess seemed quite small -- though it was still a very tight fit between the lock walls.  So, what about smaller ships, such as yachts?

This is what I found:


If you have chosen to transit your own private yacht through the Panama Canal, there are some important things not to be neglected before embarking on the journey. The most significant matters shall become time and expenses, as traveling through a system of locks might come out really time-consuming, expensive and stressful. Still, the transition might become a unique adventure and even the most epic story to be told for the rest of your life. Here are some details to think over, before you decide upon a journey.

In terms of time limits, the journey through Panama Canal solely might last up to eight to nine hours. An intricate system of locks should be passed on your way through, guiding your private sailboat from one ocean to another.


Prior to that, there is obligatory paperwork to be done, along with the vessel screening (to make sure your boat complies with size regulations etc.). That is why you have to consider in advance the time your boat will be docked at either the Pacific side marina or Caribbean side marina to await your turn before transit. Average waiting time varies, but be prepared that it normally takes several days at least.



As to the paperwork, The Panama Canal Authorities demand an advance notification of 96 hours to accommodate the arrival for vessels desiring to transit the Panama Canal. If you are planning on transiting the canal without hiring an agent, you will need to call to the Admeasurer’s office (English is spoken by all canal officials) to arrange a time and location for your boat’s measurement. You have to go through measurement and payment first, before entering the ACP system to get a transit date assigned, as it cannot be reserved in advance.





If dealing with documentation yourself, you need to fill in a form stating where you are and when you would like to get measured. Then, an official Ad measurer will come out, to measure your yacht according to canal regulations. Once the process is completed, you will receive a form to be proceeded to a bank for an official deposit. Once you are measured and your money is deposited, you will call the official schedulers office and make an appointment for transit. Again, be prepared that paperwork might take from three to seven days. 



Money wise, the price to pay for closing the Canal naturally varies depending on the size of your yacht. For small vessels of up to 15 metres LOA, the price makes around $1,875; for larger ones of up to 30 metres LOA it makes around $ 4,275, etc. Furthermore, you should consider extra transit fees including long lines, car tires and making sure you have line handlers on board.


Finally, depending on your appointment time and your port of entry you can expect to depart in the afternoon, around 1pm or 2pm. You will be assigned an official advisor from the Panama Authority to join you on-board, provided everything is going as planned. Thus, you need to provide hot meal and drinking water for your advisor. He or she will serve as your sailing mentor, attempting to get you through the canal as quickly and efficiently as possible. Still, you might end up having to stay the night for some unforeseen reason. In that case, expect to pay up to $500 dollars extra to dock. 



On your journey, You will go through a series of locks (12 in total) composing is a system of levels that lift a ship up 85 feet to the main elevation of the Panama Canal and back down. Each lock is around 300-metre long and can be filled and emptied in 10 minutes. Once you have transited through all of them, you can continue on to either the Pacific or Caribbean side ocean.


All in all, if you decide to cross a Chanel on a private vessel, below are some tips for a smoother canal transit (Yachting World):

• Start researching information in advance, at least 3 months ahead, for comfortable preparation.

•It is better to keep the yacht’s decks clear. Move or stow items to keep the area around bow and stern cleats as clear as possible.

• Ensure all fairleads are fair to start. Re-leading takes time you may not have if currents start spinning the raft.

• Stern lines took the most load. Consider running them to a cockpit winch with the stern cleat as a guide to provide better control and mechanical advantage.

• Prep line handlers well. Hold a crew meeting. Make sure they understand how critical it is to be alert: they should not expect to use a GoPro or post on social media during transit.

• Repeat instructions from the adviser. It confirms you have heard and are responding to the action called for. It may serve to clarify the adviser’s intentions when issuing rapid instructions.

• Engage your adviser. Talk through manoeuvres in advance, asking for clarification on next steps and understanding actions they will want you to take before they need to happen. 


So, how much does it cost for a Princess cruise ship to transit the canal?

According to last year's figures, it is $425,733.90 basic cost, plus a premium of $35,000 for going through at a pre-reserved time.  This, of course, depends on the size of the ship, as the number of berths (crew as well as passenger) makes a difference.  In April, the Island Princess published this fact sheet:


The Island Princess has 2200 lower berths and 895 crew, while the Sea Princess has 2000 lower berths and 910 crew.

As of January 2020, the system will change, undoubtedly with bigger fees.

What is certain is that your share of the fee (which is calculated on the basis of the number of people on board, including crew) will be added to the price of the fare.  But personally I am happy to pay it.








Friday, September 6, 2019

Paul Allen's super yacht for sale


From Bill Springer at Forbes 



It’s well known that Microsoft cofounder, investor and philanthropist Paul Allen lived a big life before he died of cancer last year at the age of 65. He was also an ocean explorer who’d travelled the world’s ocean’s aboard his 414-foot-long Explorer Yacht Octopus since it was launched back in 2003. And now that the yacht is for sale, it might be pretty hard to top Allen’s list of adventures that include:
* exploring the coast of Antarctica, 
* traversing the Northwest Passage
* recovering the ship’s bell from the wreck of HMS Hood at a depth of 2.8km (1.7 miles) for the Royal Navy
But he definitely did it in comfort. With accommodation for up to 26 guests in 13 cabins, and 63 crew in 30 cabins, Octopus’ new owner may not need to “discover” anything except a peaceful anchorage in the South Pacific for the ultimate escape.  And he will have his privacy, too.  The yacht has an entire deck dedicated owner. It has a private bar and hot tub forward and private al fresco dining area aft to provide the owner with a sanctuary of privacy and security. While the yacht has two elevators servicing the guest areas onboard, one is dedicated to the owner’s exclusive use for travel throughout the yacht with discretion and ease. 
The guests may not even notice. On the bridge deck below, guests have plenty of room for outdoor entertainment including a large pool aft along with al fresco dining, a bar and pizza oven. Just beneath the bridge deck is a deck dedicated solely to entertainment where guests can enjoy a range of facilities including a spa, library and bar, cinema, gym, multiple lounges including a forward-facing observation area and a basketball court on the deck below. There is also a glass-bottomed observation lounge in the tank deck. 
In addition to seven tenders, two life rafts, an ROV capable of diving to 3 kilometers (1.9 miles) and several jet skis, Octopus is also capable of housing an SUV and two helicopters in the garage (one each for the fore and aft helipads), and its stern-access dock is home to a 13meters (42.6 feet) Hinckley Talaria tender and Pagoo, a submarine accommodating eight guests and two crew that can dive for up to eight hours. A dive center and hyperbaric chamber are also on board, along with a beach club with bar on the starboard side.

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

ISLAND OF THE LOST paperback due next month


Island of the Lost

The Extraordinary Story of Survival at the Edge of the World

Joan Druett



Hundreds of miles from civilization, two ships wreck on opposite ends of the same deserted island in this true story of human nature at its best—and at its worst.

It is 1864, and Captain Thomas Musgave’s schooner, Grafton, has just wrecked on Auckland Island, a forbidding piece of land 285 miles south of New Zealand. Battered by year-round freezing rain and constant winds, it is one of the most inhospitable places on earth. To be shipwrecked there means almost certain death.

Incredibly, at the same time on the opposite end of the island, another ship runs aground during a storm. Separated by only twenty miles and the island’s treacherous, impassable cliffs, the crews of the Grafton and the Invercauld face the same fate. And yet where the Invercauld’s crew turns inward on itself, fighting, starving, and even turning to cannibalism, Musgrave’s crew bands together to build a cabin and a forge—and eventually, to find a way to escape.

Using the survivors’ journals and historical records, award-winning maritime historian Joan Druett brings to life this extraordinary untold story about leadership and the fine line between order and chaos.

[A] study of the extremes of human nature and the effects of good (and bad) leadership . . . If the southern part of Auckland Island is all Robinson Crusoe, the northern part is more Lord of the Flies . . . Druett is an able and thorough guide to the minutiae of castaway life . . . [She] shows that real leadership is rare and powerful.”
New York Times Book Review

Friday, June 21, 2019

Whaling wives and deathbeds

Mary Brewster, courtesy Mystic Seaport Museum

Mary Brewster, wife of Captain William Brewster, sailed on the whaleship Tiger of Stonington, Connecticut.  
“The best part of the day I have spent in making doses for the sick and dressing sore hands and feet,” she wrote in July 1846;  “5 sick and I am sent to for all the medicin,” but failed to note what the medicines were.  
Caroline Mayhew, courtesy Martha's Vineyard Historical Society

Another formidable female was Caroline Mayhew, the daughter of a Martha's Vineyard doctor, who was on board the Powhattan in April 1846 when the ship limped into St. Jago, Cape Verde Islands, with eight men down with smallpox.  The port doctor refused to come on board, putting the ship into strict quarantine instead, but Caroline managed to cure them, though she never described her methods. 
Less lucky in a similar situation was Lucy Ann Crapo, wife of the captain of the whaling bark Linda Stewart, which in June 1880 dropped anchor at Talcahuano, Chile, with four sick seamen.  This port doctor did consent to come on board to look at the men, and diagnosed smallpox.  As it turned out, they had a harmless rash—but it killed them all the same, because he sent them to the smallpox ward, where they contracted the disease from the men who were already there.  “The want of knowing one [kind of rash] from the other has made a sad chapter in our voyage,” wrote Lucy Ann.
Inevitably, there were wives who attended deathbeds.  One was Sarah Gray of Liberty Hill, Connecticut, whose sea-going career spanned twenty years, culminating in a voyage on the whaleship James Maury.  The log for March 24, 1865, reads, "Light winds and pleasant weather.  At two PM our Captain expired after the illness of two days at 5 PM."  They were in tropical waters near Guam, and Captain Sluman L. Gray had died of dysentery, after just three days of illness.
Refusing to allow him to be slid into the sea like an ordinary man, Sarah insisted on pickling the corpse, and so the log for the following day reads, "Light winds from the Eastward and pleasant weather, made a cask and put the Capt. in with spirits."  It was a cask that became quite famous.  On June 28th, the James Maury was captured by the Confederate raider Shenandoah.  The Civil War had been resolved eleven weeks earlier, but Captain Waddell, the commander of the raider, refused to believe it, seizing ships and burning them as usual.  Accordingly, when the James Maury was captured, Sarah Gray hysterically expected the worst.  However, Captain Waddell had heard about the cask and the corpse, and had decided to ransom the 'Maury as a gentlemanly gesture. 
Accordingly, 222 prisoners were put on board of the 395-ton ship, and the James Maury was sent off to Honolulu, the cask undisturbed.  With such extreme overcrowding, it must have been a nightmare journey, but somehow, eventually, Sarah got the cask home (the bill for cartage from New Bedford was $11) and buried her husband where he lies today, in the Liberty Hill graveyard.  Local legend has it that he was buried cask and all, but it seems much more likely that the preserved corpse was taken out of the barrel and put into a regular coffin first.

Annie Ricketson, courtesy New Bedford Whaling Museum

Unfortunate, too, was Annie Ricketson of Fall River, Massachusetts, who sailed on the Pedro Varela.  In 1885 her husband, Daniel, became very ill with some kind of blood poisoning, Annie recording that “one of his testicles come to a sore and bursted and running badly,” and she was terribly afraid for his life.  The schooner beat head winds to get to Barbados, and Captain Ricketson was carried on shore on a litter, to be treated by two shore doctors.   They gave him ether and cleaned out the abscess in his groin—and drove Captain Ricketson insane.  At that, the two surgeons reverted to more traditional methods, putting a blister plaster on the back of his neck.  “I never felt so bad in my life as I did when I cut that hair off,” Annie wrote, and that page of her journal is still stained with her tears.
After two months of watching this kind of blundering, Annie took her husband back on board, and nursed him until he could walk and talk again.  Then they picked up a boat off Annabon, West Africa, in which three sick men had been set adrift.  Daniel fell ill again, and Annie headed for the Azores—where the schooner was put under quarantine, the port surgeon refusing to come on board.  So Annie put to sea again.  Two days later, her husband died.