Crew Blog

Groundhog (Birth)day

02 March 2008

11pm 29 February 2008.

Shake out a reef at watch changeover. Ken and I retire below decks. I remember that I have 40 minutes until my 19th birthday. Have you ever seen the movie Groundhog Day? We have. And we talk about it. A lot. The reason behind this conversational phenomenon is simple. We can relate. However, instead of waking up in a normal looking bed to the repetitive radio messages of a retro alarm clock, I rise several times a day from our simple bunks to the sound of Justyn alerting me that it is “Gybe O’clock”. It isn’t actually gybe o’clock, but the thought of having to get out of bed for a gybe usually enervates me to the point that I actually do make a move.

Today, however, I will not lose track of time. Today will not blur with the rest. Today is my birthday. Not that 19 is a big deal (I can now buy cigarettes in New Jersey), but at least the moment is more remarkable than dawn watch day 6. The rest of my watch reminds me of the occasion, and I thank them drowsily as I kit up.

The watch continues as usual. Dark, chilly, two hours helming, one hour napping, sail change. Big Bird’s muesli is commensurate with the celebration of the day. At 7:12 AM, my bowl hit the sink, I jammed my boots on, slung a lifejacket over my shoulders and headed on deck once more to the rhythmic pounding of three sails. We were broaching. A great start to the new year.

After ten minutes or so of assorted shouting, panicking, pulling, and grunting, the entire crew had righted the broach, put in two reefs, and recovered the wayward #2 Yankee from its near watery demise. Bedtime by all accounts.

What seemed like seconds after I close my eyes, Justyn alerted me to Gybe O’clock. It could have been Groundhog Day. But today was special, I remembered. Out of bed for eats. Big Bird slips me an extra baked potato for my birthday. On deck. Two pieces of cake. Excellent. Two hours helming, two hours cleaning heads, saloon, midships (I took my time), slowly the watch crept to a close. Mackerel, pasta, olives, bed. Business as usual on New York. Maybe today isn’t special. Wake up, eat, kit up, deck work, kit off, eat, sleep, and so on. But I suppose in a year, someone might ask me where I was on my 19th birthday, and I can say I was somewhere between China and Hawaii fighting off squalls and cruising at 12 knots, determined to track down the boats ahead of us. I think after I assimilate into “the real world”, this might seem interesting, even romantic. For now, I have 137 birthdays between here and Liverpool.

Gybe O’clock. Shake out a reef at watch changeover. Today is Groundhog Day.

Nathaniel “Pisces” Thompson