0950 - 46.58.2'N x 90.30.2'W - The Apostle Islands, Lake Superior - By Matthew Maples

I come up from below to a sun-lit deck and a brisk early morning breeze. It was the kind of morning where you expect to sit down to sip tea and watch the red-rock shores where invisible birds among pine sing. The stuff you see people doing in commercials for Michigan tourism.

Not today though.a plan far more ambitious than an early morning slack is afoot. My first clue is the safety harnesses leaving the rack and the cacophony of "click", "rattle" and "thump" as metal harness clips are adjusted and put on. Our sails above are furled, with line wrapped around them to stow them away from the stormy weather of yesterday. Up an up our crew and trainees go aloft to unfurl - this rare morning wind is not to be squandered!

We are to sail off the hook - basically, to bring up our anchor and use the wind to sail away without any help from our "iron sails" (the engines). The wind begins at our head, up forward where our anchor leads out. As we nearly finish heaving anchor, Captain Vos calls for the headsails to be set; all three jibs go aloft at once dramatically as a ready gang at the halyards hauls them home. Once set, they put force on our bow, slowly pushing us onto a port tack. Then we wait at the foot of our fore and main masts, ready to set the lower topsails (2nd highest square-sails) for power.finally, we get the word; clews and buntlines are cast away and sheets are hauled tight, bringing the corners of the sail to the waiting yardarms below. We don't stop there - more canvas! Up the mast each successive square is set and speed is gained as more sails are set aloft - with that power we make our way out of the bay. Someone then asks Captain Vos if he wants staysails set - belay that! He wants the royals (5th highest squares) set - more power!

By 0950 we are sailing in between Stockton Island (where we began) and Outer Island. Looking at the chart in the wheelhouse, I see that we are going to be tacking our way through a cluster of small islands, working our way to the north with the help of this north-westerly wind. I say to Captain Vos that this reminds me of sailing in the Virgin Islands."Yeah" he says, "but this is better, this is quiet!"

He is right. I see only one other sail boat out here with us. No "touristy" mess with us being mobbed by small boats darting about. Nothing else is here but islands, teal water and an open sky. A complete 180 from yesterday's oppressive gray cover, rain, lighting and headwinds. Our crew make the most of it, and by 1020 they are enjoying a coffee break in between tacks with abundant laughter and jokes to match the sun and the pine-tinted fresh air as we hug the coastline of Cat Island. We skirt it closely enough to spook our pilot! It is a good sail in the Apostle Islands to start the day.

We have continued our stop-and-go pattern to Duluth, sailing by day and putting into bay or harbor for the night. We made a short stop on the 26th in small Copper Harbor - a once mining town-turned-tourist resort of sorts. No doubt we helped the tourism trade that day.

The night before saw us in "Big Bay" - a remote anchorage with a nearby river, by which some of our crew and trainees entered with our small boat, "sloopie." To enter the river, they had to push the boat over a sandbar.

Gary Kirkpatrick, trainee, said that it made him feel like he was one of the first explorers of the Americas.

A special mention must be made for our newest trainee, Dan Vogt. He came onboard on a complete whim when we were in Marquette on the 24th. He met many of us on shore in town and he kept coming back to ask us questions.

The next morning he thought he was coming just to see us leave.but he saw our signs advertising for trainees. He decided, in a spontaneous moment, that he had to go with us, that he "had to do this." A mere few hours later, he was heading into Lake Superior, under sail and in style. I already know for a fact that this experience has changed his life, because he said so during a lunch - though he was, at the time, making a reference to the galley's Oxtail soup.

Another adventurous trainee of ours is Joan Young. I can now use her for an example when people in port ask if there is an "age limit" to our sail training. Though she may be seventy-six years old, she is on deck, hauling on lines, coiling and going ashore in the small boat. Joan even went aloft to see eye-to-eye with the main course yard. She says that it sure beats being at home in front of a television. I often cite the example of a volunteer on Niagara, John. He had his 75th birthday on board in 2008, and he is still there as a volunteer. He goes aloft to furl topsails and he rolls out of his hammock every morning to do fifty push-ups. With him and Joan as examples, it can be said that in reference to sail training, age is simply a number.

Tomorrow we enter Duluth and we end our sail across Lake Superior. Until then we hope to have a good sail for the other half of our day.