Day 7a - A Boaty McBoatface Morning (Mon, Feb 26)

Lots of rain overnight, pretty steady all the way through.  It has stopped now, giving us a cloudy morning, and a worried JQ noted that the temperature is now only 17C, but don't you fret about her - she'll wear a jacket. Yes, we have acclimatized quickly to Australia's warmer temperatures. It may be difficult to return home.

Originally, we had thought we might give Featherdale Wildlife Park another try today, depending on the weather, but have decided against it due to the rain. Now is a good time to do some of those indoor-ish activities.

Statue in front of the Maritime Museum
with the James Craig in the background

The Maritime Museum is right on our doorstep at Darling Harbour.  As you might expect, boats figure prominently in this museum.  😜  There's info going all the way back to Captain James Cook (who is a much bigger deal in this corner of the world than he is in ours, being the first to reach the eastern coast of Australia at Botany Bay), all the way through to the modern navy.


Side Note #1: Why, yes, actually, I do wish I could make a trip to Botany Bay.  And you know what I'd say there.  But alas, it is not on the agenda for this go-round.

Side Note #2: With a rather impressive list of naval accomplishments, it is a bit sad that when you Google "Captain Cook", the first thing on Google's search suggestions is People also ask: Who ate Captain Cook?   Bummer.

Anyway, Captain Cook sailed the Endeavour to Australia (and there is a replica boat out in the harbour that we can visit).  I learned that grog is watered-down rum.  Since the mid-1600s, sailors in the British Navy were given daily allotments of rum.  To reduce drunkenness and accidents, they began watering it down.  Understandable (and "duh").  There were some naval uniforms on display - and I do very much like the 1800s braided coats.  I'm sure they're not comfortable travel gear, but they do look sharp.  (How often do you get to tell men that they have to suffer to be beautiful?  Buck up, boys, and wear the heavy coat with braids and buttons - it makes you look purty.)

Of course, there were also exhibits on more modern equipment - navy submarines, and a helicopter hanging from the ceiling (complete with a kangaroo painted on the side).  They also highlighted the canoes and arts of Australia's indigenous people, and the crystal-laden lighthouse light from Tasman Island was on display (it was replaced with something more modern and automated).  Amazing how those crystals magnify the light.  Like the light of a million billion suns!  On an unrelated note, I am now blind in one eye.

When you've finished wandering around the interior, you can go outside to visit the Sydney Heritage Fleet, which is the museum's boats in the harbour.

The Vampire is a navy warship from the 1970s.  The name "Vampire" makes it sound more exciting than it is, but it was an interesting walk-through - 70s decor and all!  (But wait a minute... I thought the old lore said that vampires couldn't cross running water?!?!  Worst. Boat. Ever.)

The James Craig, aka Clan Macleod

The lighthouse was closed, so we walked over to the James Craig.  Although it is docked at the Maritime Museum, this boat was restored and is maintained all by volunteers.  While they can park their boat here, they don't get any money from the museum, so they do request donations.

Our volunteer tour guide told us the story of the ship, which is an iron-hulled cargo sailboat dating back to 1874 when she was named Clan Macleod.  As a cargo ship, it regularly circumnavigated the world, so was well-travelled.  (And the tour guide and I both agreed that no one likes Cape Horn.)  Anyway, it couldn't compete as the steamships took over, and was scuttled somewhere in Australia and left for 40 years(!!!) before people decided to restore it and towed it back to Sydney.  He showed us a photo of it before restoration, and I was amazed that it could even float at all.  The restoration work took over 25 years - no government funding except for a boaty-thingamajig-work-platform (that's an official nautical term) - and now the restored ship goes out again on sailing excursions.  It is one of only four ships of its type remaining in the world, which was why they put the effort into restoring it.

Look at all the rigging!  It gives new meaning to the phrase "learning the ropes", doesn't it?  If you go out sailing with them, you can climb up (with safety harnesses) and try your hand at raising and lowering the sails.

I would love to go on a sailing excursion with them, but unfortunately that's later in March when we're gone.  😢  But all the sails and rigging - so impressive!  It is outfitted with an engine - nowadays, all boats have to be, because (1) you don't want to get stuck when the wind stops, and (2) you'd need a tugboat to get back into harbour if you didn't have an engine.  But when they go out on their excursions, they always use the sails.  I think I'm going to add this to my bucket list, if I get back to Australia again.

After that, JQ felt the pangs of hunger after having been so long at sea, and so she headed into the mall to grab some expensive lunch from an Indian restaurant.

I wasn't hungry yet, so I popped over to the wooden sailboat, which is the replica of the HMS Endeavour (of Captain Cook fame, see above).  This is your standard mid-1800s all-wooden boat, with a multitude of sails and rigging.  I was a little bit alarmed at the toilet placement at the very front of the boat - let's just say, you're either gonna hold on tight, or you're gonna want to hold that poo until you get to Tahiti.  (No, since you ask, this is not actually the part of the ship called the poop deck.  That's at the back.)

The stairs leading below-deck are more like ladders than stairs, and I thought it was a relatively low ceiling in the first area, which held the mess area for eating.  Those tassel things beside the tables are not decorations - they are your "napkins".  When they're too dirty to be cleaned, they'd be repurposed into candle-wicks, or to stuff the grooves in between the boards.  No waste!  There was a similar fluffy rope for toilet paper use.  (I don't want to know how they recycled that rope.  We lead very soft lives, my friends.)


As I moved further into the ship, I realized what a low ceiling really was, as I then had to bend over and creep through to the sleeping compartments.   Hammocks suck, by the way.  I think they're not good for your back, and JQ says all the blood will flow out of your feet, which I imagine is also not good.  (Where's Amir when I need to ask him doctorly questions?  Amir, will my feet atrophy and fall off if I sleep in a hammock while on a long voyage at sea?)

Creeping and bumping my head along, I eventually reach to the officers accommodations.  It's an improvement, I guess, in that they each have a tiny cupboard-room, and a bed where they can lay flat.  They'll never be able to stand up straight, but they can lie flat - as long as they're not too tall, that is.  There's a bit of light in this area, but the air is stifling, even on this not-very-hot day.  The ceilings overhead can't be more than 4 ft high.

A kid walks in and proudly proclaims: "Look! I can stand upright!"  I immediately demand to know how tall he is, and his mother says, "About 115 cm."  That's 3.77 feet.  So I'm guessing my estimate of 4 ft ceilings is accurate.


(Why so smiley?  Since I was just including the people to show how low the ceilings were, I thought I should de-identify them, as there are less than six of them there, so that equals a small cell size.  See, Nedeene?  I do pay attention sometimes.)

Creep along, and try to squeeze up the narrow staircase, and whew!  We are in the Captain's quarters.  At last, I can stand up straight.  He's got all the windows at the aft of the ship, and he's got a sitting area, and a table, and a bedroom.  This is not so bad!  But apparently, it didn't work out so well for Captain Cook.  He was 6'4", and the bed was about 5'5".  Irony can be pretty ironic sometimes.  The guide tells me that he slept above decks, and he let the dogs sleep in his room.  That was nice of him!  But I wonder what he did on rainy nights?

Windows, tables, china tea sets and chairs, plus your own bedroom and bath.
And you can stand upright without hitting your head.  It's good to be the Captain.

Anyway, now I have seen the ship, so I have to make my way back to the front to exit.  Off I go, bonking my head on the support timbers every few feet as I creep back through the land of the pygmies, until I can climb above-deck once more.

I head over to the Harbourside Mall to meet JQ, and tell her she would have loved that ship - it's like it was built for her.  Except smaller.  Hey, if it was good enough for the 6'4" Captain Cook, it's good enough for her.  But she thinks she'll pass anyway.  Too bad.  I would like a picture of her trying to creep through those low-ceilinged passages.

I talk a lot!  I'm gonna split this day into two blog posts.  Next up, the Sydney Wildlife Zoo!