The tall ship, Tecla, a Dutch North Sea sailing herring dragger built in 1915, was tied by three heavy hawser lines to the ferry quay in Ullapool, Northwest Scotland, a town of white-washed buildings packed together for the herring fishery. Most of us had arrived the evening before and we were ready to sail except for obtaining one more official document. The health certificate is not very important to European nations but is required to land in Argentina, Chile, and other ports along the voyage around the Americas. Next year, Tecla was scheduled to return to the Atlantic over the top by way of the Northwest Passage.
The health inspector arrived from Inverness early in the afternoon. After inspecting every room, he issued the certificate. The Harbormaster in bright yellow storm jacket stood on the pier. He called us “lucky bastards” to be sailing to the Canary Islands in September. Our female captain gave the Harbormaster a hug and climbed down the iron latter. She started up the big diesel engine, radioed for assistance with the docking lines, and waited by the big wooden steering wheel. On deck the first mate, a man in his thirties, stood midship by the spring line. There were two mates in their twenties, a…
