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Cruising Christmas
By Tom Neale
Busting
your balls is just one of the problems with taking Christmas trees to
sea. But we do it anyway. We’ve never had a Christmas without a
real Christmas tree. This was so before we moved aboard, and it’s
been so ever since we moved aboard in 1979. And when I say, “tree,”
that’s what I mean. I don’t mean a potted plant. Our trees
have all been around 6 feet tall. True, we have to go for the skinny ones,
but nothing’s wrong with skinny trees.
When
we put up the tree below decks, we can’t just stick it into a bucket
of moist dirt. In the first place, most of the dirt on my boat is in the
bilge. Oh yeah, it’s moist all right, but if the tree absorbed that
stuff it’d probably turn blue instead of green. So we usually put
it in a bucket of sand which we’ve washed with some of our precious
fresh water. Then we tie its top to our overhead. Not only does this hold
the tree up when we’re in the Gulf Stream, it gives me something
else to grab onto when I’m about to loose my balance as we fall
off a wave. Then we spread white towels all around it. It looks like snow,
but that’s not really the idea. The pretty balls and tinsels they
sell at the mall don’t quite cut it at sea. It’s good to have
a nice mat to collect all the glass. We’ve come to use more and
more decorations from the ocean and the islands. Sand dollars rest beautifully
in the branches. Sea urchin shells mute the glow of lights. A small star
fish at the top seems both out of place and yet perfectly at home.
How we get
our trees depends on where we are in the weeks before Christmas. Sometimes
we’ve gotten them from the woods while we’re in the Chesapeake
area, at other times we’ve been in places where we must risk life
and limbs by foraging the untamed wilds of a super mall parking lot. Often
we’re underway to somewhere and have to get the tree where ever
we can. This may mean that we have to get it before we’re ready
to take it below. Sometimes we’ll travel over a thousand miles with
our tree; at first on deck, and then down in the salon. The tree’s
journey might begin in the Chesapeake or the Carolinas and end in the
Bahamas. The weather will have turned from winter to warm—the air
from crisp and brittle to moist and tropical.
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Christmas
Bonfires are Best Ashore
Christmas lights and decorations on boats on the water are
beautiful and a great part of the fun of owning a boat. But
they require extreme caution.
Only
use high quality out door lights, whether inside or out.
Use
high quality out door extension cords to power the lights.
110 volt AC current running in cords that are wrapped about
your rigging and lifelines can cause many dangerous problems.
Even a slight current leak can cause long term damage or injury.
Marine grade equipment is preferable.
Click
Here for More Tips
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While it’s
on deck, we tie it to the after stanchions to keep it from as much of
the spray as we can. Not only does salt turn branches into brown dry tender,
it does all sorts of weird things to colorful decorations, like adding
the color of rust. Every day, unless it’s raining, we spray it with
more of that precious fresh water. When we go out in the ocean, we sometimes
wrap the tree in big black garbage bags. Whether the tree’s under
wraps or hanging out in its green splendor, the drug enforcement planes
seem to really get a kick out of them. They hang around and take pictures
for hours. This seems weird to me, but how do I know that smoking Christmas
trees isn’t the new rage in Miami?
A Christmas
tree on a boat seems to get in the way a lot more than you’d ever
dream of in a house. That’s why we have skinny trees. Even if there’s
vertical clearance, you still have to get around them. The only place
we can plant one to the deck in the salon in our current boat is in front
of the ice maker. Ice makers are important; I don’t care what the
purists say. Ice makers are particularly important around Christmas. Just
in case somebody wants a drink. Like me.
Christmas
trees interfere with ship board life in other ways too. Once Melanie,
our daughter, was rebuilding a gas engine for a school project. The retaining
circlip for the valve spring flipped loose, went airborne, and disappeared.
We were out in the islands and had no way of getting another one. This
meant there was no way of completing the engine or finishing the class
or of seeing if the darned thing was going to run. We looked for hours
and finally, in disbelief at the bum luck, we had to give up. We found
it Christmas morning. It had caught on one of the branches on the top
of the tree and was hanging there like an ornament—or, more to the
point, like a very special Christmas present. By the next day, that engine
was purring.
When you’re
out in the islands for Christmas, although cruisers really have a great
time enjoying the island ways of celebrating the season, you can tell
that many have a tang of regret, a bit of sadness, as they miss familiar
traditions of home. One of the best things about our trees aboard has
been that, when cruisers see the lights of a real tree shining through
the port holes, they slow down their dinghies, drift a little, and smile.
The Christmas tree has had a special meaning to people of many faiths
for many years. And, particularly when cruising in different waters, it’s
when we least expect to be reminded of the good things of our lives that
we appreciate those things the most.
It was after
we noticed this about our tree that our family started doing something
else a bit unusual for Christmas and cruising. We began caroling around
the anchorage in the dinghy. Even in the Bahamas, it can get cool in the
evenings this time of the year. People huddled in the cockpit, sipping
drinks and talking, would stop, pause in amazement, and then smile. We
learned early that we had to bring our dinghy to the boats upwind, so
that the sounds wouldn’t be blown away unheard, into the night.
The departure
of the Christmas season has always had its sadness, because the world
seems to change a bit for the better during this season—for people
of all faiths. This is no less so in the islands. But our trees have helped
even here. Instead of throwing them in dumpsters or land fills like so
many do on the continent, we take them to the beach on the last evening
of the year, and plant them again, in the sand. As the winds die with
the day and darkness creeps over the islands, undiminished by city lights;
and as the stars emerge brilliantly over head, we light the tree and stand
back in awe of a beautiful bonfire. It’s a bonfire in celebration
of the old year gone and of the new year coming, and of the hope of another
Christmas Tree at sea.
Copyright 2004-2009 Tom Neale
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