Harvey Oxenhorn had taught Conrad and Melville, but knew nothing about ships or sailing until he made his first voyage on the Regina Maris--a tall ship converted into a study vessel for scientists and crew. Turning The Rig is his fascinating account of that voyage.
I loaned this book to a trusted friend, a man who lets me pilot his very nice sailboat around San Francisco Bay a few times a year, and he never returned it. Grrrrr.
The author is a whiner, a consummate indoorsman, a soft-palmed academic who talks a sailing-vessel captain into bringing him aboard as crew. Not so he can work, of course, but so he can write a book about it later.
So this squishy academic spends half his time going literary-orgasmic over words like 'baggywrinkle' and 'fo'c's'le', and the other half moaning about actually having to work long shifts, haul lines (pulling ropes to non-nautical folk) and climb up high masts. Because, of course, he gets seasick and is afraid of heights and has no freaking business within 200 yards of a sailing vessel.
But at least he realizes he's whiny, wimpy and annoying, and as the trip goes on he writes beautifully about whales, amusingly about wandering lost in the fog in Disko Bay, Greenland (which turns out to be an extremely depressing place), and about why it's a good idea for a ship to have a captain, even though it smacks of fascism to good academics. He is also fascinated by the physics of sailboats and transmits some of this fascination to the reader. A well-built sailboat is truly a miracle of functional artistry and it's nice to have somebody put all this into words.
I would have like to read more from Oxenhorn, but he died in a car crash soon after writing this. Anybody with any interest whatsoever in the 3/4 of our planet not covered by land should at least have a look at this one. It's stuck with me.
Harvey Oxenhorn took a break from a faculty position at Harvard to volunteer as a crew member aboard the tall ship Regina Maris as it sailed from Boston to Greenland and back. The purpose of the voyage was to conduct research into humpback whales. His previous sailing experience consisted of swamping a sunfish sailboat at summer camp when he was a kid. Now he has to climb up 7 stories up the mast to raise & lower sails.
"Tuning the Rig" is a fellow crewmate's description of the constant process of adjusting the various lines that connect all of the sails and masts.
This book is really more about the author's self-discoveries and the inner workings of life on board. He also describes life in small villages in Newfoundland, Labrador & Greenland where the social fabric that was dependent on the sea was destroyed by overfishing, the collapse of the whaling industry or the native Inuit culture being destroyed by its encounter with western civilization. His descriptions of life in Greenland are especially bleak.
It took the author 5 years after his voyage to get this book published. He died in a tragic car crash right after it was published.
If you're interested in whales or sailing you'll find this book interesting.
Oxenhorn, about 8 years ago, thought it would be fun to ,join a group of students, researchers and sailors on a trip to the arctic to study humpback whales. Their mode of transportation was to be the barkentine, Regina Maris, a fully-rigged clipper ship built in 1908. The students would man the sails. "Tuning the Rig" is the process of finding just the right tension in all the stays, lines and shrouds so the ship not only stays together but functions at peak performance. This tuning becomes a metaphor for the interactions of the heterogeneous group of people on board. They are as diverse as can be, each striving to maintain his individuality. Oxenhorn, himself, resists the overwhelming force of the ship, which coerces everyone to work together. It's a humbling experience and Oxenhorn finally comes to agree with George (the captain and former Harvard Medical School Dean) that the crew is not so much a group of people working together as a family, with all the inherent strife and conflict and petty grievances, but bound together as a rope made up of individual strands; each by itself virtually useless, but together incredibly strong. Oxenhorn perceives that the search for individual unity may be but an illusion. When he returns from the voyage after surviving awesome hardships, he tries to convey some of his experiences to friends, but finds their crises (whether to decorate with butcher block or oak) somewhat puerile. He asks George at one point why the captain gave up so much to become involved with a clearly risky educational venture. George responds that it can be summed up by the Russian word, Nitchevo (very loosely translated as "what the hell.") Most people would abolish weather if they could; eliminate risk. So many people spend their lives doing one thing so they will be able to do something else. One should "choose as life's work whatever feels most like play." The descriptions in this book of climbing in the rigging during a gale to reef the sails are awesome.
Story of the author, who decided to sail on a tall ship that was doing arctic research and whale watching/research. I learned a lot about life at sea and enjoyed getting to know the author (killed too soon, in a car accident shortly after this book was published). He's full of straightforward and thoughtful observations rendered in clear and powerful prose, like: "And yet, because free time is so rare and so unpredictable, you are constantly forced to inhabit the present moment, and you learn not to squander it. You grow more accurate about and more responsive to your true desires. Not what you could or should do in the rare time that is yours alone. Not what is plausible, but what is necessary -- what you need to do, most, now." Or: "At that moment I felt very close to my friends, and to myself, and to the quiet, sad, persistent heart of things. I felt a peace that had eluded me in grander moments, on the ice cap, say, or in the gale. And I realized that they had not been the end to which all our quiet work and patience were the means but vice versa. That what we are educated to call "boredom" is perhaps better thought of as space or neutral emptiness. As possibility allowed to be just that. As grounding our faith in repetition. The journey out, I thought, is marked by danger. But persistence (Go on, say it: boredom) is the ticket home." Or: "Maybe, then, the problem isn't knowing "who you really are" but thinking that you ever can know. In an age when experience is so far-ranging and the demands of daily life are so complex, perhaps integrity resides not in one "true" stand of endeavor or desire but in the intelligence and love and dignity with which each person's crazily conflicting strands are parceled, wormed, and served. That kind of strength is filamental -- flexible, though prone to fray. It binds against itself, and holds." I really like those passages (I love the "quiet, sad, persistent heart of things") and the book is full of touching, meditative moments. Definitely different from what I mostly read but I enjoyed it.
Harvey Oxenhorn fought to get his thoughtful memoir of his first voyage at sea aboard the Regina Maris, a tall ship. I am so glad he succeeded before his untimely death at age 38.
Regina Maris was a teaching and research ship heading to Greenland to research humpback whales. Oxenhorne initially has a difficult time adjusting to life on board with it’s tight spaces and relentless work. As we follow him up into the Arctic chasing whales and braving storms and frigid temperatures, he becomes an integral part of a crew dedicated to the maintenance and mission of the Regina Maris.
We are at the beginning of the great awakening of the environmental movement. The Great Banks fisheries have collapsed. Whales of all types have been reduced by killing and loss of the by catch fish they feed upon. Seabird populations have plummeted. The indigenous populations of Greenland have no purpose. Oxenhorn realizes the Interconnectedness of ocean life.
He returns to Boston full of new experiences and perspectives. I am so grateful he took us along on his life changing voyage.
An interesting story of what it’s like to crew on a tall ship headed towards the Arctic Circle to study whales. Found the descriptions of the wildlife encountered, including birds, fascinating especially since they were very similar to what I just encountered visiting Alaska. Have great admiration for people who really challenge themselves like this author clearly did on this adventure. Some of the writings/musings were a bit cringe worthy but overall an entertaining ride.
A Must Read, one of the best time investments I've ever made. Tuning the Rig is the true story of a life changing trip aboard a fragile tall ship, from Boston to Greenland and back, circa 1980. Harvey Oxenhorn, poet and professor, was one of many rookies who became sea-faring veterans on the research voyage to study whales. With stops in Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and Greenland along the way, it is also a glimpse into the ways of life of those peoples, and the history that brought them to that place. At times grisly (as the slaughter of sea life is examined in detail), chilling (literally, as they endure storms well above the Arctic Circle), and always inspiring, all I can advise is - Find and read this book. You will never regret it. I would now read ANYTHING Oxenhorn wrote, but alas he was killed shortly after Tuning The Rig was published. So, I will have to be content to re-read this one ... often.
Excellent writing. This book is the difference between a sailor trying to write and a writer learning to sail. The reader gets a real sense of the author's experience from a landlubber literally "learning the ropes" to an experienced member of a tall ship's crew. Along the way, he does a great job of describing all of his experiences; the ocean, the whales (the trip was a humpback whale research trip), the land (Newfoundland, Greenland), ice, wildlife, etc.
A good heartfelt accounting of a novice at sea. as someone who has spent a great deal of time exploring, i enjoyed his tale of being completely unprepared and overwhelmed at a completely foreign environment.
Completely enjoyed this honest account of a modern author crewing a turn of the century tall ship doing whale research. It so whet my appetite to sail that I booked a trip on a schooner in Maine next summer. Well written with lots of life lessons.