Oh for the love of... Part two

Meet Misty.

Misty

We know we can't even begin to 'replace' Yukon who we lost two weeks ago but our surviving pet, Mr. Bentley, needs a companion and everyone from vets to friends tells us we have a relatively short window to introduce a new dog into our pack. Mr. Bentley is now ten years old and though in good health we can see the loss of Yukon has hit him just as hard as it did my wife and I. Years ago when we lost our first Husky, Tundra, the surviving one, Chinook, did the same thing as Mr. Bentley is doing now. I call it ghosting. Literally in just two weeks his coat has become noticeably more grey. Ten year old Huskies are normally starting to grey as they age and Mr. Bentley was no exception but he's now a shade lighter than just weeks ago. 

So even though we are still grieving for Yukon, we set about searching for a new pet. The decision would ultimately rest upon Mr. Bentley's approval, as it did ten years ago when we introduced him to Yukon. Chinook and Tundra, our first pair of Huskies, had been rescued through Polaris Husky Rescue in Fort Collins (Polaris seems now to have been absorbed by North Star Siberian Husky Rescue who's website seems not to be maintained or active any longer...) and our second pair, Mr. Bentley and Yukon, had also come to our home through a Husky Rescue so we knew we would be looking through either a Rescue or animal shelter for our next pet. 

Since this decision was primarily about getting Mr. Bentley a companion (Huskies seem to generally do better with another dog to play with and keep them out of trouble!), being able to introduce them in person (in dog?) was critical. Sadly, in my opinion, 'shopping' for a new pet through a rescue seems to have gone the way of all things retail - look online, find what you want, order and it will be delivered. Granted, with the rescues we contacted there is still some vetting of the new owner including reference checks to ensure a good forever home but the in person (in dog?) introduction of the actual dogs seems to have gone by the post-pandemic wayside. 

We also perused the online offerings of the local animal shelters. Pet owners will not be surprised by the massive numbers of dogs and cats ( and hamsters, chickens, rabbits etc.) in animal shelters needing homes which in my mind begs the question of why there are still so many puppy mills and (some) unscrupulous breeders churning out more pets in an already saturated market but suffice it to say there was no way we were going to add to the coffers of businesses (and yes, they are businesses) who's primary concern is turning a dollar.

Ultimately we settled on Foothills Animal Shelter as it is in our neck of the woods (one of the rescues we considered was in Oklahoma and had more than 200 huskies available - and yes, we would have made the trip for the right doggie). We had never been to Foothills Animal Shelter (FAS), though it has been around since 1976, so didn't really know what to expect. Located right off of West 6th Avenue in Golden, Colorado, FAS focuses on several communities from Golden, Wheatridge, and Westminster to Arvada, Lakewood, and Edgewater as well as the greater Jefferson County area. While not technically a no-kill facility FAS does have an impressive record of placing/reuniting pets. In 2022 FAS sheltered 8,978 pets which was up 21% from 2021. 6,033 pets were adopted (up 14%) and 2,022 pets (up 20%) were reunited with their owners. I'm getting these statistics from the FAS 2022 Annual Report which I'm sure most pet owners never look at as they're focused on the micro level of adopting or finding their lost pet. 

I'm all in favor of no-kill shelters but am pragmatic enough to realize that we don't live in a perfect world (which is news to absolutely no one) but I wanted to see how hard FAS was striving to avoid euthanizing animals. There's a somewhat cold sounding statistic called the "Live Release Rate" and Foothills number is 93%. Kudos to Foothills for at least making this number readily visible in their annual report as I could not easily find it for other local municipal shelters. Is 93% a good or bad number? Hard to say, but according to the National Database of Shelter Animal Count:

               data shows that not only are more dogs entering shelters than are leaving, the non-live outcome rate for dogs has nearly doubled (from 5.6% to 10%) when comparing Q1 2021 to Q1 2023. This means nearly twice as many dogs did not leave shelters alive during the first three months of 2023 compared to the same period in 2021.

Another plus in favor of FAS was that they do allow in person (in dog?) meetings between current and potential adoptive pets. Mr. Bentley met with two Huskies up for adoption and he (as well as my wife and I) all agreed that Misty (her shelter name was Jesse, but had only been given that name several weeks prior) was the right fit for us. She is our first female dog and I joke that Mr. Bentley and I are now definitely outnumbered gender-wise but heck, that was already the case when it was Mr. Bentley, Yukon and I as I can confirm that happy spouse does indeed make for a happy house. 

Misty is purportedly 8 years young though she is exhibiting more puppy-like traits than her age would suggest. She is clearly not ready for her canine AARP card. She was picked up in Westminster as a stray and had no collar or microchip and apparently no doggie owners came looking for her. And yes, she is spayed and will not be adding to the out of control pet population. Thankfully she is housebroken and has a gentle and loving personality. Already our hearts are opening to this new bundle of fur. As for Mr. Bentley, he seems accepting of his new canine companion though he is still getting used to her antics. They tell us it will take about a month or so but we're cautiously optimistic as we welcome Misty to her new forever home...

Misty and Mr. Bentley getting acquainted

Oh, for the love of...

Oh, for the love of... Dog. 

The trip down from the mountains was a little speedier than normal. In retirement I've admittedly become one of those dreaded drivers who actually approximates the speed limit. Not that I sit in the left lane pegging the 55 or 65 mph  while watching a line of traffic build up behind me, but I enjoy driving, which is, at least in Colorado not the same thing as enjoying driving FAST. The advantage of retirement is not being under a continual time crunch to be somewhere, ANYWHERE, other than where I actually AM so I have the luxury of being able to enjoy the drive without constantly checking my watch.

Not so last Thursday. Don't think I've ever driven the route from Leadville to Denver as fast as I did that afternoon. With apologies to all the cars and trucks I passed at an exorbitant speed I had SOMEWHERE to be and the normal two hour timeframe for getting there wasn't going to cut it. Amazingly, at least to me, is that as fast as I was going (80 mph at times) other drivers were still routinely passing me. I-70 - Mountain NASCAR - lived up to its reputation.

That SOMEWHERE I was in such a hurry to reach is generally referred to with two simple letters: E and R though on this trip the patient had paws instead of feet. My wife and I had come back from a bike ride to find Yukon, one of our two Siberian Huskies, standing in his kennel, head drooping, looking like he had had a stroke. He was wheezing and having difficulty breathing and we knew immediately something was seriously wrong. There are Vets and a Pet ER in Leadville but we made the decision to rush him down to the vets he normally sees at VRCC in Denver. 

Halfway to Denver Yukon lost control of all his bodily functions. By the time we reached the ER in Englewood they had to lift him onto the gurney. The prognosis was grim. What had been a healthy and exuberant bundle of fur that morning was at death's door suffering from aspiration pneumonia. He had a temperature of 106 degrees, organ failure, and his blood test results did not bode well for recovery. In consultation with the vet and praying that we were doing the right thing, we made the heart-wrenching decision to put our beloved Yukon to sleep. 

I clearly understand that in a world where people are dying needlessly in the hundreds, thousands, and millions from everything from war, famine, mass shootings and gun violence to pandemic, addiction and drunk driving some might question the appropriateness of mourning the passing of an animal when so many of my own kind are leaving life behind. For me it does not need to be an either-or; I can, and do, mourn for both. But candidly, though I've had the delight of canine companionship through all of my life, losing my Yukon has hit especially hard. As I told the vet, this - the decision to pit your pet down - doesn't get any easier though I've now felt the life leave from more pets as I've held them than I care to think about.

For dog lovers, every wet nose and wagging tail is special and unique. Every happy yip and bark brings joy. Joy... a feeling of great pleasure and happiness. Yukon brought so much of it into our lives that I fear the emptiness left behind will never quite be filled. 

Yukon's introduction to Life was not gentle. He was born to a backyard breeder who for whatever reason couldn't place (sell) or simply didn't want this weeks-old ball of fur born with one brown and one blue eye and a brown tinge to his coat and decided to throw him out on the streets of, of all places, Wichita, Kansas to fend for himself. By the time he was rescued he was severely malnourished and underweight and you couldn't blame him for being afraid and skittish around people. But that wasn't Yukon. Despite the cruelty meted out to him as he entered this world, he loved people. Just this 4th of July we were at the holiday parade in Leadville and Yukon reveled in the attention from kids and adults alike as they stopped to pet him and they in turn experienced, if but for a moment, some of the boundless love this dog had to give.

Love is a word that perhaps gets overused. Love between humans is often complicated. Who truly knows what is in another's heart? Love also can be fleeting, you need only look at the divorce statistics to see that people fall in and out of love all the time. There is a purity of Love given by a pet that I have yet to experience with those of my own kind and if I grieve for my Yukon that grief is because that type of Love is so rarely found and I will desperately miss it. If the Love in Yukon's now-still heart could only be forever shared this World would be a better place. 

I often looked into Yukon's eyes and hoped he knew he was loved as much in return by my wife and I. Every breed is special in its own way but if you've ever gazed into the eyes of a Siberian Husky and tried to fathom what you see then your heart and soul has swelled in wonder of what those depths have to share. Dogs are long since removed from their wild forbears but in the one blue and one brown eye of Yukon I could get a glimpse of a world sadly long lost to mankind. They say that not all who wander are lost; in Yukon's gaze I felt at peace, at home, and free to roam.

When we rescued Yukon his name was Blade, a moniker we never felt remotely fit him. Why we settled on the name Yukon is pure serendipity but it was foretelling. Yukon would get to visit his namesake and it was as if he was going home. I'm not overly religious but if there is a Heaven I hope, Yukon, it looks and smells and sounds like the great, wild Northcountry you got to experience in your youth.

Apologies to those who are not pet people for waxing on about the loss of my Yukon. Perhaps if you had ever met and seen him light up with happiness to greet you or been slapped by a tail wagging in pure bliss as you petted his head, you could indulge me in sharing, just for a moment, the love shared between a very, very special dog and one oh so ordinary human being. Yukon - from my still beating but now inconsolable heart, Thank You. May the ground beneath your paws be forever padded in pine needles.

Where to this time...

Wow. Its been four months since my last blog which is as long a gap I've missed since beginning this blog. Originally this blog was started to chronicle my retirement from Pinnacol Assurance and a trip on the Alaska Highway to Fairbanks and points North. Call it writers block or simply having nothing to say (which is totally not like me). Now, having nothing to say is perfectly fine and as the adorable rabbit Thumper, of Bambi fame, would say, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. 

So how's your Spring been? Here in Colorado its been a wet and cold one until recently. Now the days are starting to warm, though we did have snow over the weekend. In other words, its been perfectly normal. Not so for much of the country which has been dealing with unusual heat, and down in Florida they've had unusual flooding. I think it was Fort Lauderdale that received a month's worth of rain in seven hours and the news showed airliners taxiing through water that was almost up to their jet engines. We were just in Florida, Miami specifically, and fortunately had gorgeous weather. We were there, like thousands of others, to catch a cruise ship to the Caribbean sun and sand. Like I said, Colorado's Spring being normal and all, made some of us yearn for some tropical rays. We hopped aboard the good ship Norwegian Sky to take advantage of one of their early season deals and spend 9 days visiting 6 sun-soaked islands including the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, St. Maarten, Antigua, the U.S. Virgin Islands, and the Bahamas. Tough to go wrong  with that.

My young nephew was taking a cruise to the Gulf Coast of Mexico with his girlfriend and her family at about the same time, and while I haven't yet spoken with him about his trip, hope they had as much fun as we did on ours. When we took our last cruise aboard the Royal Clipper sailing ship last Fall on her transAtlantic crossing some of the sailing purists poo-pooed the notion of cruising on the behemoth cruise ships that are more the standard of the industry today. I don't share their sentiment and have no problem enjoying all that a more typical cruise (and cruise ship) have to offer. We've sailed with both Norwegian and Royal Caribbean (as well as Star Clippers) and thoroughly enjoyed being pampered at sea by them. 

Cruising's not pefect and does have its own set of challenges and our recent cruise out of Miami was no exception. Crowded (o.k. - overcrowded) pool decks, lines at the buffets (which we hadn't experienced in the past), an inexplicable scheduling of some entertainment shows into shipboard venues that couldn't accomodate all that wanted to see them (picture folks standing in the aisles because there wasn't enough seating), and the usual disembarkation snafus (you'd think they'd have mastered getting folks off the boat at the end of the cruise as well as they get them on at the beginning) were a couple of nits on our trip. That said, those nits were more than made up for by the wonderful staff and service onboard, the great food (no one ever starves on a cruise ship...), the great shows (even in the sometimes cramped spaces), and all the standard amenites (fitness center and classes, spas, choice of restaurants, casino, duty-free shopping, etc.) cruisers have learned to enjoy. The Norwegian Sky seems to be one of Norwegian's smaller ships in terms of guest capacity (2,000 guests) but she certainly doesn't lack in the fun factor. 

For my wife and I though, its the ports of call that largely determine whether to take a cruise. This trip offered the chance to see some islands we hadn't seen before (Puerto Rico, St. Maarten, the U.S. Virgin Islands, and the Bahamas) and we were excited to experience what these new places had to offer. Cruise companies have the challenge of disgorging thousands of passengers into sometimes quite small islands and ports and figuring out what all those people are supposed to do with their time ashore. The shore excursion staff aboard the ship were as busy as any staff onboard. We had selected and booked our excursions ahead of time and as folks who have cruised before, especially to the Caribbean, know, some of the shore excursions from one island to the next can get a little repetitive. For example, there's almost always a catamaran snorkeling excursion complete with rum punch (and sometimes, if you're lucky, foot massages!). We love to snorkel but sadly with the decline of reefs worldwide the number of good snorkeling sites is diminishing so the chances of seeing a turtle at Turtle Cove (Virgin Islands) seems to be slim though my wife finally spotted one totally unexpected in the Bahamas. 

The trick for passengers is to sort through the myriad shore excursion offerings featuring something  perhaps they haven't seen or done before. For us, two of the islands, St, Maarten and Antigua, set themselves apart on this trip. In St. Maarten we had a chance to sail aboard the Americas Cup yacht Stars and Stripes that Dennis Connor helmed to victory in 1987. And I mean you really get a chance to sail - from 'grinding'  the winches to trimming the sails, and even a short stint at the helm. Everyone aboard had a great time on this excursion and if you're ever on the beautiful island of St. Maarten check out the "12 Meter Regatta" excursion. 

On Antigua, which we had visited before, we signed up for the "Stingray Swim and Snorkel" which involved taking a small boat out to a sandy reef where, yes, you really got up close (touching and feeding close) with stingrays. And not just one or two - the stingrays seem to know when the tours come and they show up by the dozens to be fed squid by the sometimes squeamish snorkelers (as you'll see in the video as my wife makes friends with a companionable and very hungry Hypanus Americanus). Again, not something we had ever done before and for two landlubbers from Colorado one of the highlights of the cruise. When we were last in Antigua we had done the Canopy Zipline tour and we were tempted to repeat but in the end went with the new and unique.

One other note from this cruise that we really enjoyed was having enough time in most ports to not only do a shore excursion in the morning but also having several hours afterwards to simply, and leisurely wander around the port before reboarding the ship. With some of our other cruises its been a rush to get back from the shore excursion in time to get back on board and we never had time to explore the port town. 

Well, I guess my writers block is over at least for the moment so apologies for the length of this blog. Still, it was a great trip, and if you want to see more here's the video of our trip to paradise:

There's a whole lot of S*#% out there...

I'm getting tired of this S*#%. Everywhere I look nowadays its S*#%, S*#%, and more S*#%. And its not just in my neighborhood - there's S*#% from coast to coast. In my neck of the woods the  S*#% is really getting deep. I mean, you're starting to need a shovel to handle all the S*#% out there. How much more of this S*#% are we going to have to put up with? You just can't seem to get away from it. I close my eyes and open them and there it is - S*#% all over the place. I'd cuss at all this S*#% but it's already a four-letter word. 

What's a person to do? Even the newscasters are getting fed up with all the S*#% around us. Heck, it takes up most of the newscast. Enough already. I'm sick and tired of getting dumped on with all this S*#%. The S*#% so deep its going to give me a hernia. Thank God it's New Years. Maybe in 2023 we'll all have to deal with less S*#% than all the nasty 2022 S*#%.

I'm old enough that I've dealt with my share of S*#%. Starting at a young age I quickly realized that too much of anything isn't necessarily good and that's especially true when it comes to S*#%. You deal with a pile of S*#% and before you can say Gesundheit there's more where that came from. Make no mistake, even watered down all this S*#% still makes for a heck of a mess.

Here's my New Years Resolution: come 2023 I'm done with all this S*#%. I'm going to pack it in a box and send it to Florida where, like, they don't have enough S*#%. Maybe it'll help all the palm trees grow. I hear S*#% is as good as fertilizer and Heaven knows, Colorado has plenty to spare. Maybe I can market it on Amazon though shipping S*#% might be a problem. And here's the latest S*#% joke - whats the difference between Southwest Airlines and S*#%? .......S*#% is airborn. 

And if all this S*#% doesn't disappear come Springtime, come on by. My aim's improving and you might get clobbered up side the head with a big 'ole ball of S*#%. 

For those out there who might be offended with all this talk of S*#%, take my advice. Head for the Colorado High Country where they manufacture S*#% by the truckload, strap on your S*#% skis, mortgage your house for a ski ticket, and go make S*#% Angels in all this bleeping S*#%. Best hurry though, they're forecasting another S*#% storm come next week.

Happy S*#%-y New Year.

Of Merriness and Dainty Paws

 HO, HO, HO.  

O.K., that's the last time in this post I'll do my Santa impression. The LOML (Love of My Life) and I took a jaunt to Manitou Springs yesterday because the blizzard that's been socking the rest of the country missed us in Denver completely, it was a beautiful and sunny December day, and because, well, we really enjoy the little town of Manitou Springs ("Oh Little town of Manitou Springs..." -nah, doesn't have the same ring to it). Mind you, a nice day in December - at least this one - is still pretty dern cold. Add in the wind and you can bet your booties (more on booties later) that when we stopped in Palmer Lake to give the pups a nature break we did not embrace the season with a leisurely stroll around said lake. And God love the wind-blown ice fisherman sitting out in the middle of the pond (he wasn't HO, HO, HO'ing either).

HO, HO, HO.

We could have taken the Interstate and gotten to Manitou Springs minutes earlier but what the hay, I'm retired, the wife's retired, and the back road from Sedalia south on State Highway 105 is one of our favorite strips of pavement anywhere in the good 'ole U.S. of A. We've biked  this route too many times to count on the now-defunct Elephant Rock ride and whether you're on a bike or snuggled up in a warm car it takes you through some beautiful countryside out in the you know, country. Out in the country is getting harder and harder to find in my neck of the woods (or more accurately my neck of the prairie) and as we rolled through the still quaint town of Palmer Lake we had only to look around at all the new homes being built to sense that this much-loved drive's days are numbered.

Speaking of numbered days, its the 351th day of the year as I write this. Only 14 rotations of our big globe left in 2022. And what a year its been. Of course, we say that about every year as we bid it adieu. Some years we add "good riddance", other years we'll fondly miss, though those have been as scarce as finding real countryside recently. Speaking of countryside, Highway 105 rolls by some spectacular vistas, some

natural, some man-made. We had to stop and take pictures of the Santa haybales and the red Christmas truck, both of which would brighten even the Grinch's day.

South of Palmer Lake its back onto I-25, that wonderful conveyor belt of humanity creeping along at 15 mph that stretches from Wyoming (and beyond) down to New Mexico and climes not featuring below zero wind chill. Colorado Springs, which is on the way to Manitou Springs, now brags of a rush hour to rival Denver's and our timing was good enough that we were able to partake. HO... nope, not going to do it. Anyway, we eventually arrived in Manitou Springs which is nestled at the base of Pikes Peak. In fact, its from here that you can catch the Broadmoor Manitou & Pikes Peak Railway that will whisk you to the 14,115 ft. summit which as I write this is a balmy 9.8 degrees (Fahrenheit for my Celcius friends in the rest of the world). And yes, the train runs year round but for our trip on this day we had lower, much lower, aspirations.

Merry Whatever...

Manitou Springs is a tourist mecca in warmer weather and as such has joined the growing list of communities that have discovered that visitors will gladly (some less gladly than others) pay for parking. Gotta say, these new parking kiosks do make it far easier to fork over $10 for five hours than the old coin-operated ones that people hated so much. And they even remind you via text when your time is about to expire and I believe you can even add more time without making the long walk back to your vehicle though I did not avail myself of this wonderful convenience on this trip. 

Having worked up an appetite, what with all the driving and freezing, the LOML and I went in search of sustenance that would have to sustain us for the upcoming shopping extravaganza that I knew awaited us. If you are a burger afficionado and have been to Manitou Springs you may have eaten at the Border Burger Bar  which features a seemingly endless array of - wait for it - burgers that are really yummy (I could have gone with delicious but yummy better fits). I had a veggie burger covered in green chile and aioli sauce and gluten free bun with some of the best sweet potato fries anywhere while my LOML indulged in the Alaskan Salmon burger which strangely features a Norwegian salmon fillet but is delicious (yummy) nonetheless. It was all good enough that I could have taken pictures but I was really busy, like, eating.

With tummies full it was time to explore the wonderful world of unique retail that is Manitou Springs. Don't bring your Kohls Cash and their isn't a Target or Walmart within spitting distance but rest assured your money is perfectly good here. I know because the LOML put it to the test almost everywhere in this small town (which all of a sudden wasn't seeming to be so small). But one of the stores offered fudge so it was all good. 

Mr. Bentley sans boots and snow

Our two pups got in the act as well and particularly liked Gigi's Animal Lovers Gift Shop (I'd link it but couldn't find that they have an actual website (!really?) though they get 4 1/2 Stars on Yelp). It was in this particular establishment that our booty tale continues. Our pups are Siberian (or as we like to say - Suburban) Huskies who give the LOML a run for her money in my heart. One is named Yukon and the other is Mr. Bentley (why there is a Mr. in there is a whole 'nother blog) and both compete for the MSCOTFOTP Trophy (Most Spoiled Canine On The Face Of The Planet). They came into our hearts as rescue pups about eight or nine years ago and have been stealing the show ever since. 

Anywho... (as one of my former coworkers used to say), Mr. Bentley loves his walks and as a card-carrying Husky he dearly loves the snow. Only problem is he gets ice balls in his paws which really cramp his style. Gigi's has a doggy boot selection to rival Boot Barn so a good chunk of my five-hour parking allotment was spent with a very helpful clerk trying on every type of doggie boot known to dogkind. Small to Extra-large, in every conceivable color, dog boots are now a 'Thing' which is good because I didn't want to have made the three hour round trip from home for nothing. Fortunately Mr. B found a pair that tickled his fancy so the LOML happily handed over the rest of Her/She/Our money and we were merrily on our way. Mind you, it hasn't actually snowed in my neck of the prairie in more than a month, but better to be prepared. I guess.

After all, 'tis the season to share glad tidings - comfort and joy and all that - so I'll wrap up with wishing you Happy Holidays and Merry Whatever (hey, I'm woke enough to let you fill in the blank). On the 359th day of 2022 me and mine will be celebrating the big 'C' but as they say, whatever trims your particular tree is fine by me and I hope it finds you and yours safe and happy. I'll leave you with a short Holiday video of another shopping excursion the LOML and I had taken recently to the equally wonderful retail destination of Golden, Colorado. Best of all, though this was a shopping excursion, there's not a shop to be seen in the video. Though there was fudge. HO, HO...

On to Barbados

The reason the Royal Clipper was crossing the mighty Atlantic this trip was to get the ship to the Caribbean in time for the winter cruising season. Next year in late Spring she'll head the other way back to Europe for their tourist season. From the Portuguese island of Madeira, where we had visited the beautiful port town of Funchal, it was a ten day crossing to reach the island of Barbados. That's a long time at sea without a stop but the time passed quickly and one morning we woke to see land off to our right, or starboard, side. Life aboard ship for those ten days was a wonderful experience and I can honestly say we never once got bored or tired of looking out on the endless ocean. The whole way across we didn't see

Vessel Finder shows the trans-Atlantic
traffic flowing across the sea

another ship and perhaps more telling, I never once saw a jet or contrail overhead. I did see a lot of flying fish gliding over the waves but very few birds. There is a free site called Vessel Finder that allows you to track vessels around the globe so I know a couple of other vessels were ahead of, as well as behind, the Royal Clipper as we made our way across the wide Atlantic but all we saw were rolling waves. Other cruise lines routinely send their ships back and forth across the oceans based on the cruising season in different locales

but sailing across on a five-masted sailing ship under full sail was an amazing experience and to anyone who has the slightest interest in sailing or sailing ships I'd highly recommend this trip. 

The Barbados sunset rivaled
those we had seen at sea

Once reaching Barbados we opted to spend a couple of extra days sampling what Barbados has to offer. We had been to Barbados once before on a cruise but spent our excursion time in a submarine rather than on land so most of what we saw this trip was new for us. We stayed at Club Barbados which is a lovely resort that had apparently recently reopened after some much needed maintenance and modernization. While the facilities were very nice the staff, especially in the restaurant and front desk, seemed quite put out to actually serve their customers and based on that I would unfortunately not recommend it if you head to Barbados. The good news is that there are plenty of other resort options available on this beautiful West Indies island. By contrast, the attention and care of the officers and crew aboard the Royal Clipper gives luxury a whole new meaning so perhaps they had spoiled us.

Here's the video capturing our trip aboard the lovely lady. I'll forever fondly remember her dancing over the waves awash in canvas on a sun-dappled sea. And to Captain Sergey Utitsyn and all the crew, thank you, and may the winds always be from astern. 

The Officers and crew of the
Royal Clipper

Shipboard life on the Royal Clipper

just some of the sails aboard
Royal Clipper

Since the Royal Clipper is, after all, a sailing ship, crew and passengers alike were looking forward to catching the east to west prevailing trade winds to grab hold of our topgallants and topsails, jibs and staysails, mizzensails and royals and drive us across the ocean swells. 42 sails and 54,000 square feet of canvas when fully decked out but for the first couple of days from Madeira the winds did not quite cooperate. A low pressure system out of the Bay of Biscay far to our north brought westerly winds almost directly on our nose preventing us from hoisting any real canvas. So motoring it was to be, cruising along at 10 knots covering about 250 miles a day and heading slightly south of west (around 220-240 degrees). The swells pushed south

Looking forward at the bowsprit
at sunset

from the Biscay low came from the north/northeast catching the Royal Clipper from the starboard stern causing us to pick up the rollicking motion that had tagged along since leaving Lisbon. Fortunately, most of the passengers seemed to have overcome their initial battle with ‘La Mal de Mer’ (seasickness) and were better able to accommodate the whims of the sea. Mind you, you still had to watch your step and balance when walking the decks but that was part of the allure of being on a sailing ship.

As we made our way farther south the weather began to warm up nicely to the point of bordering on hot. A rhythm developed aboard ship as passengers fell into some amount of routine that made the hours at sea pass. Given that the ship is only 442 feet in length they pack a fair amount of activities between stem and stern. Early riser? Continental breakfast starts at 0630. Want some morning exercise?

Exercise classes, for those so inclined,
help melt the calories from all the
sumptuous culinary offerings

Stretching is at 0830 followed by dance aerobics in the Tropical Bar. Meanwhile, regular ‘full’ breakfast is being served in the dining room. After sampling the delicious culinary offerings most passengers head topsides to snag a deck chair and relax for a while (until lunch!) reading and dozing while gazing up at the masts making lazy circles among the puffy white clouds overhead. Lunch offers more delicious fare but perhaps its best to not go overboard as Zumba is at 1530 before classes in navigation and knot-tying. For those seeking refreshment of the liquid kind the Tropical Bar on the aft deck lives up to its name complete with umbrella drinks and live music. Snacks of course are also provided and lest you spoil your appetite for dinner there’s the requisite stroll to the bridge and bow to view the stunning sunsets that can only be seen at sea from the deck of a pitching ship. 

dinner is served...

Dinner aboard the Royal Clipper is a four or five-course affair and the desserts are to-die-for if you’re not too worried about gaining some inches. Most of the Clipper crowd did not seem to have calorie counting as one of their primary pastimes. Not to worry though, as after-dinner dancing is yet ahead and the gym and massage rooms are open until late in the evening. A nightly movie, stargazing on the upper deck, and midnight snacks finish off what can be as busy or as relaxing a day as one wishes. 

One other activity that folks have been waiting for, but has thus far been cancelled due to the motion of the ship, is the chance to climb the rat lines up the main mast to the first (lower) crows nest located approximately 90 feet above the deck. My better half is anxious to give it a go (or maybe just anxious) so we’re hoping the sea will calm down in the next day or so so she can get her chance. Gazing up at the swaying masts (there are five - fore-mast, main mast, middle mast, mizzenmast mast, and last but not least - though shorter than all the

view from the bowsprit net back
at the Royal Clipper

others- the jigger mast) I’m only glad we won’t be climbing up to the dizzying heights at their tops though the crew does get that privilege to set and repair sails when needed. There’s also a bowsprit up front to which are attached the jib sails that also supports rope netting that passengers can climb into and gaze down at the azure blue sea passing beneath them. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Madames et Monsieurs, good morning aboard the Royal Clipper. It’s a beautiful day full of shipboard activities. The Captain and crew wish you to have a pleasant day.” That’s how every morning began, with an announcement from the bridge. On the schedule for today:

0634 Sunrise (and yes, lots of folks got up to see it)

0800 Morning Gymnastics with Borja

0900 Walk a Mile

0930 Mast Climbing

1030 Celestial Navigation without GPS

1115 Power Walk with Abdel 

1130 Card Playing in the Library

1200 Position and Weather Announcement from the Bridge

1330 Play Chess with Benjo

ONE pastry chef turned out all the desserts,
cakes, and pastries. Yum is an
understatement

1430 Story Time with Captain Sergey 

1500 Deck Golf with the Sports Team

1530 Zumba with Abdel

1630 Engine Room Tour

1700 Afternoon Melodies in the Tropical Bar

1715 Daily Quiz Time

1800 Traditional Salve Regina 

1900 Piano Melodies

2130 After Dinner Dancing

2200 Karaoke Night and Disco Dancing

2300 Star Gazing with 2nd Officer Maya

Some of these offerings change every day, but this gives a good idea of a typical day at sea.

And lest we forget, meal times as follows:

0630 Continental Breakfast

0800 Breakfast Buffet

1200 Luncheon Buffet/Pasta & Salad Bar

1700 Afternoon Snack

1752 Sunset

1930 Dinner is Served

2345 Midnight Snack

That’s a lot to cram into 24 hours, or rather 23 as we turned the clock back about every other day as we crossed time zones heading West. Of course, a fair number of passengers simply awoke, had breakfast, then headed for the deck chairs by the pool to enjoy quiet time until the next meal. My better half opted for busier options with the only rest coming as we gratefully fell into bed to be rocked to sleep by the rhythm of the waves.

NEXT DAY...

With sails hoisted, its
time to climb the mast

About 0930 this morning they were able to raise the sails as we had finally picked up the trade winds blowing from the stern. So it was off with the engines and all hands on deck (or at least all passengers) to witness the flutter and pop of the massive sails straining against the wind pulling us through the cobalt waters of the Atlantic. Today was also the day we reached the halfway point between Portugal and Barbados. The only sign of this waypoint were the flying fish skipping off the waves as if to congratulate us on making it this far.

With the sails out in their full glory and the seas calm enough with the swell coming from behind, it was time to climb the main mast to the lookout perched just above the mainsail at about 80 feet off the deck. A hardy bunch of passengers, including yours truly, lined up for the honor of hoisting ourselves up the rope rungs of the rat lines through the little opening in the lookout from where we could gaze down at our less-brave (though probably wiser) fellow passengers who were distinctly beginning to look like ants scurrying around on the decks below. Don’t know if it was coincidence, but at the same time I reached the lookout I could gaze down on the foredeck where the crew was having an Abandon Ship drill complete with fully inflated life raft. Hmmm, I’m going up and they’re preparing to go down. Apparently I didn’t get that message in a bottle.

the crew made mast climbing look easy...
"Look Ma, no hands!"

Still, it was pretty cool to climb out from the ship railing over the surging waves rolling by along the hull of the Royal Clipper and hoist one’s self up what suddenly was starting to look like a very, very tall mast. Fortunately, we were only allowed to the first lookout level. Looking upwards from there one could only imagine what it must be like to climb to the very top of the mast past another 4 large sails billowing and snapping in the breeze (two topsails and two topgallants). Going up was not so bad as you were

up, or down? we go...

very focused on the next rung (strand of precariously tied rope) above you. Going the other direction however brought to mind what my beloved wife reminds me every time we hike a mountain: it’s often tougher going down than going up. I quickly learned that was equally true in the fine art of mast climbing, or at least mast descending, as going down you were looking straight down trying to make sure your foot didn’t miss the next strand of rope that was stopping you from taking the quick way back to the deck. Looking down gave you the opportunity to contemplate the faces of all those ant-like creatures staring up at you from far, far below. Fun stuff. 

and this was the easy part... next came the math

Safely back on the closest thing to terra firma for a thousand miles, it was then time to find out a little more about Celestial Navigation which involves taking sun and star sights using a sextant and remembering why you hated trigonometry so much in High School. The chances of me determining with any accuracy (give or take a thousand miles) where in the middle of this ocean the Royal Clipper actually was resembled the odds of me winning the Colorado Lottery when I don’t even buy a ticket. I mean, I'm still finding my way around the ship, let alone this giant puddle called the Atlantic. Thank God (and Garmin) for GPS otherwise I’d be sailing round and round in circles until next hurricane season. Modern electronics now make navigating a sailing vessel like the one we were on almost as easy as telling Google “take me to Walmart!” And out here I don’t even have to wait in line wondering why the twenty other lanes are all closed. Still, in the hands of an expert the sextant is remarkably accurate and apparently some of the crew continue to routinely practice this almost-lost art in case those fancy modern electronics go on the fritz (there's no calling on Geek Squad for a mid-Atlantic house, or in this case - ship, call).

another day at sea comes to a close