#leading to some ominous signage inside the base like

[new-eyes-extra-colors]

realized i hadn't actually posted any fic snippets of eots with my boy maxie in them so here he is

also. i think groudon and kyogre should be scarier. as a treat.

“Maxie,” she says, tugging gently on his hand. He stops and turns partway around, glancing at her briefly, and follows the direction of her flashlight beam across the cavern to the spot where it illuminates a small x on the rock wall, drawn in white chalk.

“Again?” he mutters.

“This is the third time,” May says, voice high and tremulous, “that we’ve been through here. Every single one of these exits just, I don’t know, loops back here somehow.” She gives him a look that’s halfway between critical and pleading, and he holds her gaze steadily, expression neutral. “Have you seen the passageway that leads back to the entrance? Because it should be right behind us, but we got here through that turn.” She points ahead with her flashlight, to the branch of the cave that heads off to the left. “I mean, how does that even make sense? Coming through the same exit four times from four different directions?”

He turns away, falling silent for a moment. The cavern echoes with the quiet sound of water dripping from somewhere nearby; of Maxie tapping his foot. His hand is warm in hers, and she realizes she’s squeezing it. It’s selfish, but she’s too afraid to let go.

“I think,” he says evenly, “that this is normal.”

She takes a deep breath. “Normal.”

He nods once. “Relatively speaking, of course. But I’ve seen something similar to this before, back at our base.”

She frowns up at him. “I thought that was an abandoned mine?”

He catches her gaze again briefly. “Why do you think it as abandoned? People thought it was haunted, and when they couldn’t find out what was haunting it, they abandoned the project rather than stick around and risk irritating something powerful enough to rearrange a cave system at will.” He looks around the cavern briefly, flashlight beam skating across dripping stalactites on the ceiling. “You have to remember the scale of power we’re dealing with, here. A reasonably powerful psychic-type could achieve something similar to this, and people used to worship Kyogre as a god.”

Maxie’s words hang in the still air for a moment, and May shifts back and forth on her aching feet. She turns and looks behind them, but there’s nothing there except the dark passageway they just walked through.

“You think Kyogre’s doing this.”

“Not doing,” he corrects. “Well. Maybe doing, but I don’t think it’s necessarily a conscious control.” He takes a deep breath. “Obviously, I’m not sure. But have you ever seen anything like this before? Since Groudon… left, we’ve been able to map the entire mine and the cave structure it intersects with. We tried several times before, of course, but were never able to do that successfully while they were still there.”

[janetgannon]

Everybody duck! The ups and downs of the 2017 Tacoma Festival of Sail

There are a lot of things that go through your mind as you are about to be run down by the World’s Largest Duck, but the thought that I remember best is, “This is the most ridiculous nautical incident I have ever been involved with.”

And that’s saying a lot.

Moments before things got too busy to take pictures.

I was standing on the aft deck of the M/V Lotus, a 1909 cruising houseboat I was crewing aboard at Tacoma’s 2017 Festival of Sail. It was raining, a light patter that had turned into slanted curtains of water as the wind picked up down the line of the Foss Waterway.

Now it was making the World’s Largest Duck, being towed back to its berth inboard of us at the Dock Street Marina in front of the new promenade at the Museum of Glass, a real handful for the three small craft trying to shunt it into place.

It was going to be a tight fit no matter what. They had to make a sharp corner ahead of the Hawaiian Chieftain, scrape past the bowsprit of the Mycia, and power up into the powerful current coming down the waterway to tuck back into the dock.

Engines roared and tensions flared on the tow boats and those of us spectating from our own vessels nervously began to unlimber boat hooks as the big bird lurched menacingly around the waterway. Aboard the S/V Thane, moored next to us, skipper Pete Reid shinnied out onto his bowsprit armed with a boat hook to do battle with the beast as it lunged toward him, a modern-day Ahab jabbing at his own great yellow whale.

Although it must have looked comical from shore, the six stories worth of bright yellow sail area was perched on top of a sharp-edged metal barge that could have turned any of our wooden hulls into kindling.

People line up to visit Lady Washington.

I pushed off one of the towboats as it slid into Lotus‘ transom, then took their tow line and secured it to our stern bitt while the other boats used us as a pivot to swing the duck around safely past Pete and finally, breathlessly, into its slip.

And that was just the first day.

It was also the day of the Parade of Sail, with an iffy forecast that caused our captain to cancel Lotus‘ participation. Since we were scheduled to be one of the parade waypoints, this was likely to be a disappointment to the organizers, and as the least senior crewperson I was left to deliver the bad news at the captain’s meeting that morning.

Fortunately, my mumbled apology was quickly subsumed by more critical issues — the ships had only received the parade schedule and instructions a couple days before and no one had a chance to adequately prepare. In the case of Virginia V, set to lead off the procession, this meant that the departure time had been confused with the parade start time. With only an hour until departure, there was no engineer on board — and three hours were required to raise steam.

But despite a late start, missing waypoint, and pouring rain, the parade was pulled off creditably and the tall ships strutted their stuff through Commencement Bay and announced the formal start of the festival.

With Friday came sun and crowds. Almost 900 people filed through Lotus, so many that I got a blister on my clicker finger from counting. I got sick of the inevitable look of wonder and the exclamations that come from anyone stepping into her stately saloon for the first time.

Outside, the graceful dome of the U.S. Courthouse smiled down benevolently on the masts and flags, and the Museum of Glass provided a sweeping backdrop to the Dock Street venue. The marina — clean, new and staffed by helpful and courteous hands — is a first-rate facility in an excellent location, and the Thea Foss Waterway embraces Tacoma’s nautical heritage in a way that sometimes-snobby Seattle can’t compete with.

Despite this, as we had brought Lotus in to dock, our crew had debated the reasons that Tacoma continues to get a bad rap and fewer visitors than it deserves after putting so much effort into revamping the waterfront.

Our captain, who has deep nautical and family roots in the area, had the answer.

“It doesn’t matter what you do to it,” he said philosophically. “It’s still Tacoma.”

But Tacoma turned out for the tall ships, sending an estimated 120,000 people down to see us over the weekend. At least, those that managed to catch a glimpse of us around the sides of the six-story duck.

Skipper Pete Reid of the Thane, a Spray replica homeported in Victoria, chats with visitors on the docks.

The controversy that embroiled the duck at its next destination in Canada was entirely absent on the docks in Tacoma. Although there were some snide remarks and a good deal of kvetching among crews whose boats the duck eclipsed, for the most part it was recognized that, tacky as it was, the massive yellow bird was bringing people onto the docks and past the boats.

And while some past iterations of the festival have had rougher crowds, the kid-friendly aspect of the duck-centered hoopla brought families to the festival and introduced a new generation of Pacific Northwesterners to many of the classic boats that are our heritage here.

Helping drive home that heritage, the Foss Waterway Seaport Museum opened its doors for free. With the flags flapping on the tall ships outside and echoes of “Sloop John B” coming from the band outside, kids flocked to the Lego exhibits inside to try their own hand at shipbuilding.

Hands-on shipbuilding at the Foss Waterway Seaport.

But the secret of any festival is that the best parts are after hours. With the crowds away, crews visited with one another and caught up, talked shop or told sea stories, played music and shared meals. Wonderful spicy scents wafted around the docks and laughter rippled across the water.

On Lotus, we retired to the upper deck with stir fry and drinks to enjoy the balmy evening air as night fell. Across the dock, Captain Pete strummed gently on his banjo and the music drifted across the upper deck as we talked late into the evening of foreign lands, adventures and vessels we had known. The duck loomed ominously in the background, silhouetted by the city lights.

On both Saturday and Sunday we clocked more than 1,800 visitors aboard Lotus; Zodiac had over 2,000, despite being out for day sails at times. An estimated 120,000 people showed up over the weekend.

For the most part, the crowd seemed to have fun despite poor organization and planning. A litany of complaints came from attendees, not about the boats or crews, but about the event itself: Long lines (in part due to inconsistent policies that kept the docks almost empty at times), missed sailing, transportation issues, missing signage, lack of seating, few food options.

I waited almost 45 minutes for the 15 minute loop shuttle and other people told me they had been there an hour. It wasn’t just visitors complaining, either. One volunteer I spoke to, who first started helping with the festivals in 2005, was disappointed in the show management this year.

“No organization, no support for volunteers,” she said. While she had been told there was nothing for her to do, we’d been desperate for help handling visitors down on our dock. This was the first year for new organizers, Draw Events of Duluth, where it turns out they have gotten similar complaints at the Duluth Tall Ships Festival. They’re also under fire, it turns out, for allegedly copying the duck design from a Dutch artist without credit or compensation.

Perhaps the most egregious example, from the perspective of the visiting vessels, was the crew party scheduled for Sunday night. At the last minute, we got word that it was no longer going to be held at the Tacoma Yacht Club, but instead shifted to the Rock The Dock Pub near the Maritime Museum. It was a sensible location, but it had some fatal flaws: not enough tickets were available to cover food and drink for every crew member, and it was a tavern — no one under 21 was allowed in.

Sailors under 21 weren’t welcome at the festival closing party.

For an event with several sail training ships listed as the prime attractions, this was an unconscionable oversight. As we walked the docks, we saw lonely kids sitting around on Lady Washington and Zodiac eating cold sandwiches while their older mates whooped it up at the bar.

We thought the whole thing was a little puzzling. I’d chatted with TYC Commodore Jim Martinek when he’d come aboard Lotus earlier in the weekend and he’d made it clear how excited the club was to host the crews and how, it being Father’s Day Weekend and the restaurant there customarily packed, they had bent over backward to get things ready for the festival party.

On a hunch, we piled into a car and headed out to TYC.

It turned out the party hadn’t been moved at all. The crews had just been disinvited from the venue enjoyed by the event staff. Minnesotans and event staff were enjoying the food and amazing sunset views from the club deck.

Martinek, standing in the lobby, greeted us as we walked in.

“We were told to expect 120 people,” he said, looking around the half-empty dining room.

But, as sailors do, the crews adapted, even when a junction box on the Dock Street Marina started arcing and spitting smoke on Saturday afternoon. Fortunately, it was the same dock the Tacoma Fire Department where was showing off one of their fireboats and the firefighters quickly took the matter in hand. Unfortunately, the box was right at the base of the access ramp, which had to be closed while crews searched for the supply cut off.

Defiance on-duty during a small marina fire during the event.

The firefighters quickly swung Defiance around and nosed her into the beach while leaving the stern up against the dock, creating an impromptu bridge for evacuating people trapped by the incident.

Although, by all rights, the crowds and crews could each have been testy, there’s something about being on the water that tends to set things right. I saw nothing but smiles, heard nothing but compliments, and received nothing but assistance from marina staff, attendees, and event volunteers while on the boat.

Visitors enjoy Lotus’ swank turn-of-the-century saloon.

After the gates had closed and everyone had cleared out on Sunday night, a strange feeling came over me. I ducked out onto the afterdeck and looked around. It took me a minute to realize what it was.

The World’s Largest Duck was gone. It had been deflated and towed away and I had never even noticed.

Read More Here ….

The post Everybody duck! The ups and downs of the 2017 Tacoma Festival of Sail appeared first on YachtAweigh.

from http://yachtaweigh.com/everybody-duck-the-ups-and-downs-of-the-2017-tacoma-festival-of-sail/ from https://yachtaweigh.tumblr.com/post/162350066501

[jeantparks]

Everybody duck! The ups and downs of the 2017 Tacoma Festival of Sail

There are a lot of things that go through your mind as you are about to be run down by the World’s Largest Duck, but the thought that I remember best is, “This is the most ridiculous nautical incident I have ever been involved with.”

And that’s saying a lot.

Moments before things got too busy to take pictures.

I was standing on the aft deck of the M/V Lotus, a 1909 cruising houseboat I was crewing aboard at Tacoma’s 2017 Festival of Sail. It was raining, a light patter that had turned into slanted curtains of water as the wind picked up down the line of the Foss Waterway.

Now it was making the World’s Largest Duck, being towed back to its berth inboard of us at the Dock Street Marina in front of the new promenade at the Museum of Glass, a real handful for the three small craft trying to shunt it into place.

It was going to be a tight fit no matter what. They had to make a sharp corner ahead of the Hawaiian Chieftain, scrape past the bowsprit of the Mycia, and power up into the powerful current coming down the waterway to tuck back into the dock.

Engines roared and tensions flared on the tow boats and those of us spectating from our own vessels nervously began to unlimber boat hooks as the big bird lurched menacingly around the waterway. Aboard the S/V Thane, moored next to us, skipper Pete Reid shinnied out onto his bowsprit armed with a boat hook to do battle with the beast as it lunged toward him, a modern-day Ahab jabbing at his own great yellow whale.

Although it must have looked comical from shore, the six stories worth of bright yellow sail area was perched on top of a sharp-edged metal barge that could have turned any of our wooden hulls into kindling.

People line up to visit Lady Washington.

I pushed off one of the towboats as it slid into Lotus‘ transom, then took their tow line and secured it to our stern bitt while the other boats used us as a pivot to swing the duck around safely past Pete and finally, breathlessly, into its slip.

And that was just the first day.

It was also the day of the Parade of Sail, with an iffy forecast that caused our captain to cancel Lotus‘ participation. Since we were scheduled to be one of the parade waypoints, this was likely to be a disappointment to the organizers, and as the least senior crewperson I was left to deliver the bad news at the captain’s meeting that morning.

Fortunately, my mumbled apology was quickly subsumed by more critical issues — the ships had only received the parade schedule and instructions a couple days before and no one had a chance to adequately prepare. In the case of Virginia V, set to lead off the procession, this meant that the departure time had been confused with the parade start time. With only an hour until departure, there was no engineer on board — and three hours were required to raise steam.

But despite a late start, missing waypoint, and pouring rain, the parade was pulled off creditably and the tall ships strutted their stuff through Commencement Bay and announced the formal start of the festival.

With Friday came sun and crowds. Almost 900 people filed through Lotus, so many that I got a blister on my clicker finger from counting. I got sick of the inevitable look of wonder and the exclamations that come from anyone stepping into her stately saloon for the first time.

Outside, the graceful dome of the U.S. Courthouse smiled down benevolently on the masts and flags, and the Museum of Glass provided a sweeping backdrop to the Dock Street venue. The marina — clean, new and staffed by helpful and courteous hands — is a first-rate facility in an excellent location, and the Thea Foss Waterway embraces Tacoma’s nautical heritage in a way that sometimes-snobby Seattle can’t compete with.

Despite this, as we had brought Lotus in to dock, our crew had debated the reasons that Tacoma continues to get a bad rap and fewer visitors than it deserves after putting so much effort into revamping the waterfront.

Our captain, who has deep nautical and family roots in the area, had the answer.

“It doesn’t matter what you do to it,” he said philosophically. “It’s still Tacoma.”

But Tacoma turned out for the tall ships, sending an estimated 120,000 people down to see us over the weekend. At least, those that managed to catch a glimpse of us around the sides of the six-story duck.

Skipper Pete Reid of the Thane, a Spray replica homeported in Victoria, chats with visitors on the docks.

The controversy that embroiled the duck at its next destination in Canada was entirely absent on the docks in Tacoma. Although there were some snide remarks and a good deal of kvetching among crews whose boats the duck eclipsed, for the most part it was recognized that, tacky as it was, the massive yellow bird was bringing people onto the docks and past the boats.

And while some past iterations of the festival have had rougher crowds, the kid-friendly aspect of the duck-centered hoopla brought families to the festival and introduced a new generation of Pacific Northwesterners to many of the classic boats that are our heritage here.

Helping drive home that heritage, the Foss Waterway Seaport Museum opened its doors for free. With the flags flapping on the tall ships outside and echoes of “Sloop John B” coming from the band outside, kids flocked to the Lego exhibits inside to try their own hand at shipbuilding.

Hands-on shipbuilding at the Foss Waterway Seaport.

But the secret of any festival is that the best parts are after hours. With the crowds away, crews visited with one another and caught up, talked shop or told sea stories, played music and shared meals. Wonderful spicy scents wafted around the docks and laughter rippled across the water.

On Lotus, we retired to the upper deck with stir fry and drinks to enjoy the balmy evening air as night fell. Across the dock, Captain Pete strummed gently on his banjo and the music drifted across the upper deck as we talked late into the evening of foreign lands, adventures and vessels we had known. The duck loomed ominously in the background, silhouetted by the city lights.

On both Saturday and Sunday we clocked more than 1,800 visitors aboard Lotus; Zodiac had over 2,000, despite being out for day sails at times. An estimated 120,000 people showed up over the weekend.

For the most part, the crowd seemed to have fun despite poor organization and planning. A litany of complaints came from attendees, not about the boats or crews, but about the event itself: Long lines (in part due to inconsistent policies that kept the docks almost empty at times), missed sailing, transportation issues, missing signage, lack of seating, few food options.

I waited almost 45 minutes for the 15 minute loop shuttle and other people told me they had been there an hour. It wasn’t just visitors complaining, either. One volunteer I spoke to, who first started helping with the festivals in 2005, was disappointed in the show management this year.

“No organization, no support for volunteers,” she said. While she had been told there was nothing for her to do, we’d been desperate for help handling visitors down on our dock. This was the first year for new organizers, Draw Events of Duluth, where it turns out they have gotten similar complaints at the Duluth Tall Ships Festival. They’re also under fire, it turns out, for allegedly copying the duck design from a Dutch artist without credit or compensation.

Perhaps the most egregious example, from the perspective of the visiting vessels, was the crew party scheduled for Sunday night. At the last minute, we got word that it was no longer going to be held at the Tacoma Yacht Club, but instead shifted to the Rock The Dock Pub near the Maritime Museum. It was a sensible location, but it had some fatal flaws: not enough tickets were available to cover food and drink for every crew member, and it was a tavern — no one under 21 was allowed in.

Sailors under 21 weren’t welcome at the festival closing party.

For an event with several sail training ships listed as the prime attractions, this was an unconscionable oversight. As we walked the docks, we saw lonely kids sitting around on Lady Washington and Zodiac eating cold sandwiches while their older mates whooped it up at the bar.

We thought the whole thing was a little puzzling. I’d chatted with TYC Commodore Jim Martinek when he’d come aboard Lotus earlier in the weekend and he’d made it clear how excited the club was to host the crews and how, it being Father’s Day Weekend and the restaurant there customarily packed, they had bent over backward to get things ready for the festival party.

On a hunch, we piled into a car and headed out to TYC.

It turned out the party hadn’t been moved at all. The crews had just been disinvited from the venue enjoyed by the event staff. Minnesotans and event staff were enjoying the food and amazing sunset views from the club deck.

Martinek, standing in the lobby, greeted us as we walked in.

“We were told to expect 120 people,” he said, looking around the half-empty dining room.

But, as sailors do, the crews adapted, even when a junction box on the Dock Street Marina started arcing and spitting smoke on Saturday afternoon. Fortunately, it was the same dock the Tacoma Fire Department where was showing off one of their fireboats and the firefighters quickly took the matter in hand. Unfortunately, the box was right at the base of the access ramp, which had to be closed while crews searched for the supply cut off.

Defiance on-duty during a small marina fire during the event.

The firefighters quickly swung Defiance around and nosed her into the beach while leaving the stern up against the dock, creating an impromptu bridge for evacuating people trapped by the incident.

Although, by all rights, the crowds and crews could each have been testy, there’s something about being on the water that tends to set things right. I saw nothing but smiles, heard nothing but compliments, and received nothing but assistance from marina staff, attendees, and event volunteers while on the boat.

Visitors enjoy Lotus’ swank turn-of-the-century saloon.

After the gates had closed and everyone had cleared out on Sunday night, a strange feeling came over me. I ducked out onto the afterdeck and looked around. It took me a minute to realize what it was.

The World’s Largest Duck was gone. It had been deflated and towed away and I had never even noticed.

Read More Here ….

The post Everybody duck! The ups and downs of the 2017 Tacoma Festival of Sail appeared first on YachtAweigh.

source http://yachtaweigh.com/everybody-duck-the-ups-and-downs-of-the-2017-tacoma-festival-of-sail/ from http://yatchaweigh.blogspot.com/2017/06/everybody-duck-ups-and-downs-of-2017.html

[yachtaweigh]

Everybody duck! The ups and downs of the 2017 Tacoma Festival of Sail

There are a lot of things that go through your mind as you are about to be run down by the World’s Largest Duck, but the thought that I remember best is, “This is the most ridiculous nautical incident I have ever been involved with.”

And that’s saying a lot.

Moments before things got too busy to take pictures.

I was standing on the aft deck of the M/V Lotus, a 1909 cruising houseboat I was crewing aboard at Tacoma’s 2017 Festival of Sail. It was raining, a light patter that had turned into slanted curtains of water as the wind picked up down the line of the Foss Waterway.

Now it was making the World’s Largest Duck, being towed back to its berth inboard of us at the Dock Street Marina in front of the new promenade at the Museum of Glass, a real handful for the three small craft trying to shunt it into place.

It was going to be a tight fit no matter what. They had to make a sharp corner ahead of the Hawaiian Chieftain, scrape past the bowsprit of the Mycia, and power up into the powerful current coming down the waterway to tuck back into the dock.

Engines roared and tensions flared on the tow boats and those of us spectating from our own vessels nervously began to unlimber boat hooks as the big bird lurched menacingly around the waterway. Aboard the S/V Thane, moored next to us, skipper Pete Reid shinnied out onto his bowsprit armed with a boat hook to do battle with the beast as it lunged toward him, a modern-day Ahab jabbing at his own great yellow whale.

Although it must have looked comical from shore, the six stories worth of bright yellow sail area was perched on top of a sharp-edged metal barge that could have turned any of our wooden hulls into kindling.

People line up to visit Lady Washington.

I pushed off one of the towboats as it slid into Lotus‘ transom, then took their tow line and secured it to our stern bitt while the other boats used us as a pivot to swing the duck around safely past Pete and finally, breathlessly, into its slip.

And that was just the first day.

It was also the day of the Parade of Sail, with an iffy forecast that caused our captain to cancel Lotus‘ participation. Since we were scheduled to be one of the parade waypoints, this was likely to be a disappointment to the organizers, and as the least senior crewperson I was left to deliver the bad news at the captain’s meeting that morning.

Fortunately, my mumbled apology was quickly subsumed by more critical issues — the ships had only received the parade schedule and instructions a couple days before and no one had a chance to adequately prepare. In the case of Virginia V, set to lead off the procession, this meant that the departure time had been confused with the parade start time. With only an hour until departure, there was no engineer on board — and three hours were required to raise steam.

But despite a late start, missing waypoint, and pouring rain, the parade was pulled off creditably and the tall ships strutted their stuff through Commencement Bay and announced the formal start of the festival.

With Friday came sun and crowds. Almost 900 people filed through Lotus, so many that I got a blister on my clicker finger from counting. I got sick of the inevitable look of wonder and the exclamations that come from anyone stepping into her stately saloon for the first time.

Outside, the graceful dome of the U.S. Courthouse smiled down benevolently on the masts and flags, and the Museum of Glass provided a sweeping backdrop to the Dock Street venue. The marina — clean, new and staffed by helpful and courteous hands — is a first-rate facility in an excellent location, and the Thea Foss Waterway embraces Tacoma’s nautical heritage in a way that sometimes-snobby Seattle can’t compete with.

Despite this, as we had brought Lotus in to dock, our crew had debated the reasons that Tacoma continues to get a bad rap and fewer visitors than it deserves after putting so much effort into revamping the waterfront.

Our captain, who has deep nautical and family roots in the area, had the answer.

“It doesn’t matter what you do to it,” he said philosophically. “It’s still Tacoma.”

But Tacoma turned out for the tall ships, sending an estimated 120,000 people down to see us over the weekend. At least, those that managed to catch a glimpse of us around the sides of the six-story duck.

Skipper Pete Reid of the Thane, a Spray replica homeported in Victoria, chats with visitors on the docks.

The controversy that embroiled the duck at its next destination in Canada was entirely absent on the docks in Tacoma. Although there were some snide remarks and a good deal of kvetching among crews whose boats the duck eclipsed, for the most part it was recognized that, tacky as it was, the massive yellow bird was bringing people onto the docks and past the boats.

And while some past iterations of the festival have had rougher crowds, the kid-friendly aspect of the duck-centered hoopla brought families to the festival and introduced a new generation of Pacific Northwesterners to many of the classic boats that are our heritage here.

Helping drive home that heritage, the Foss Waterway Seaport Museum opened its doors for free. With the flags flapping on the tall ships outside and echoes of “Sloop John B” coming from the band outside, kids flocked to the Lego exhibits inside to try their own hand at shipbuilding.

Hands-on shipbuilding at the Foss Waterway Seaport.

But the secret of any festival is that the best parts are after hours. With the crowds away, crews visited with one another and caught up, talked shop or told sea stories, played music and shared meals. Wonderful spicy scents wafted around the docks and laughter rippled across the water.

On Lotus, we retired to the upper deck with stir fry and drinks to enjoy the balmy evening air as night fell. Across the dock, Captain Pete strummed gently on his banjo and the music drifted across the upper deck as we talked late into the evening of foreign lands, adventures and vessels we had known. The duck loomed ominously in the background, silhouetted by the city lights.

On both Saturday and Sunday we clocked more than 1,800 visitors aboard Lotus; Zodiac had over 2,000, despite being out for day sails at times. An estimated 120,000 people showed up over the weekend.

For the most part, the crowd seemed to have fun despite poor organization and planning. A litany of complaints came from attendees, not about the boats or crews, but about the event itself: Long lines (in part due to inconsistent policies that kept the docks almost empty at times), missed sailing, transportation issues, missing signage, lack of seating, few food options.

I waited almost 45 minutes for the 15 minute loop shuttle and other people told me they had been there an hour. It wasn’t just visitors complaining, either. One volunteer I spoke to, who first started helping with the festivals in 2005, was disappointed in the show management this year.

“No organization, no support for volunteers,” she said. While she had been told there was nothing for her to do, we’d been desperate for help handling visitors down on our dock. This was the first year for new organizers, Draw Events of Duluth, where it turns out they have gotten similar complaints at the Duluth Tall Ships Festival. They’re also under fire, it turns out, for allegedly copying the duck design from a Dutch artist without credit or compensation.

Perhaps the most egregious example, from the perspective of the visiting vessels, was the crew party scheduled for Sunday night. At the last minute, we got word that it was no longer going to be held at the Tacoma Yacht Club, but instead shifted to the Rock The Dock Pub near the Maritime Museum. It was a sensible location, but it had some fatal flaws: not enough tickets were available to cover food and drink for every crew member, and it was a tavern — no one under 21 was allowed in.

Sailors under 21 weren’t welcome at the festival closing party.

For an event with several sail training ships listed as the prime attractions, this was an unconscionable oversight. As we walked the docks, we saw lonely kids sitting around on Lady Washington and Zodiac eating cold sandwiches while their older mates whooped it up at the bar.

We thought the whole thing was a little puzzling. I’d chatted with TYC Commodore Jim Martinek when he’d come aboard Lotus earlier in the weekend and he’d made it clear how excited the club was to host the crews and how, it being Father’s Day Weekend and the restaurant there customarily packed, they had bent over backward to get things ready for the festival party.

On a hunch, we piled into a car and headed out to TYC.

It turned out the party hadn’t been moved at all. The crews had just been disinvited from the venue enjoyed by the event staff. Minnesotans and event staff were enjoying the food and amazing sunset views from the club deck.

Martinek, standing in the lobby, greeted us as we walked in.

“We were told to expect 120 people,” he said, looking around the half-empty dining room.

But, as sailors do, the crews adapted, even when a junction box on the Dock Street Marina started arcing and spitting smoke on Saturday afternoon. Fortunately, it was the same dock the Tacoma Fire Department where was showing off one of their fireboats and the firefighters quickly took the matter in hand. Unfortunately, the box was right at the base of the access ramp, which had to be closed while crews searched for the supply cut off.

Defiance on-duty during a small marina fire during the event.

The firefighters quickly swung Defiance around and nosed her into the beach while leaving the stern up against the dock, creating an impromptu bridge for evacuating people trapped by the incident.

Although, by all rights, the crowds and crews could each have been testy, there’s something about being on the water that tends to set things right. I saw nothing but smiles, heard nothing but compliments, and received nothing but assistance from marina staff, attendees, and event volunteers while on the boat.

Visitors enjoy Lotus’ swank turn-of-the-century saloon.

After the gates had closed and everyone had cleared out on Sunday night, a strange feeling came over me. I ducked out onto the afterdeck and looked around. It took me a minute to realize what it was.

The World’s Largest Duck was gone. It had been deflated and towed away and I had never even noticed.

Read More Here ….

The post Everybody duck! The ups and downs of the 2017 Tacoma Festival of Sail appeared first on YachtAweigh.

from http://yachtaweigh.com/everybody-duck-the-ups-and-downs-of-the-2017-tacoma-festival-of-sail/