The Viking Ship Draken
This is not a NaNo post, but if you're writing about a Viking ship and you've got a Viking helmet icon, why wouldn't you use it?
A week or so ago Brittney posted to the Guild group on Facebook: A bit out of our time period, but if anyone wants to join in, we're going to this at the Kingston stop probably on Saturday the 10th. I also really want to figure out when it will be sailing by us, since we like, live right near the waterways they have to pass to get there.
She was going to go see the Viking ship Draken Harald Hårfagre. I’ve had a couple of different reenactor friends posting about her all summer, so I already knew a little bit about her, that she is a reproduction Viking vessel, that she’d sailed over from Norway this summer, and run into an unexpected snag when she was required to have a professional pilot that they hadn’t budgeted for which threatened to derail their planned tour of the Great Lakes.
Brittney and Marc were planning to visit her on her stop at the Hudson River Maritime Museum in Kingston, New York. I thought about it and figured this might be a once in a lifetime chance, the sort of thing that if I didn’t go I’d regret it. So I made plants to meet up with Marc and Brittany in Kingston around noon on Saturday.
I got on the road early Saturday. It was about a three and a half hour drive, in and out of sprinkles. Thankfully the weather cleared up and it was sunny, but hot and humid, all day. When I got to Kingston, the Garmin took me up a hill and out into a residential neighborhood, which didn’t feel quite right to me for some reason. When I got to the address, of course it was a residential house. Which makes me grateful (again) for my new phone. Google Maps to the rescue! With my phone’s assistance, I headed back down the hill (logically, water flows downhill) and found the river and the Maritime Museum.
Before I even got to the museum, there were cars parked along the side of the road. When I got there, it was clear why. Downtown Kingston, at least the part that I saw, seems to be pretty small. There were a few small parking lots, all overflowing with cars. I drove around, but there were plenty of other cars circling around waiting for people to pull out. I drove around the corner and up the block, and after banging a U turn, headed back towards the museum. But as I pulled back around the corner again, I spotted a car making a right turn away from the museum down a one-lane road. I thought I spotted a parking lot in that direction, so after checking out the lot with a couple of empty spaces (which turned out to be, unsurprisingly, handicapped parking) I made another U turn and took that little road. Turned out there was a hidden parking lot along the river for the marina, and I found a spot right away. Which meant that I just had a short walk along the very lovely boardwalk along the marina to get to the Maritime Museum.
I had managed to get there about 45 minutes early, but considering the parking situation, that was probably a good idea. I texted Brittney and let them know I was early, that my Garmin didn’t know how to get there (they should use Google Maps), and that I’d lurk around the museum until they got there. Also that parking was tight. She texted back at 11:30 that they were just leaving. “There was much baby poo. Then a baby bath. Now we’re getting in the car.”
So, now I had some time to kill. Luckily I’d spotted a couple of antique stores as I drove around looking for parking, so I decided to go antiquing. I ended up spending about an hour thoroughly prowling a rather large and well stocked antique store on the hill. It was one of those places where several different vendors share space, which always leads to a good mix of stuff. They had a lot of 60s furniture, couches, chairs, lamps. Lots of artwork. Some clothes and lots of costume jewelry. A pretty decent collection of woodworking tools, knifes, and razors. And on a big ledge above the cash register a rather large collection of Buster Brown shoe marketing stuff. Turns out the store owner’s father used to have a Buster Brown shoe store, and it was her personal collection (and not for sale).
After I finished at the antique store, I ran back to the car to drop off the box I’d purchased, then strolled down the boardwalk along the river, reading the historical markers along the way. It was around 12:30, and there was a pretty good line waiting to buy tickets to see the Draken, so I figured, might as well get in line and wait. Marc and Brittney would get there when they got there. Besides, what toddler wants to stand in line all day?
I ended up spending about an hour in line. It took probably 20 - 30 minutes to get to the ticket booth, and then once I had our tickets, the line moved inside the fence and snaked around the small yard. But I chatted with the folks in line behind me and kept myself amused. The wife was trying to keep track of a handful of kids, the father was drooling over all the boats (he wants one, can’t afford it). Then once I was inside the yard, the line shifted around a little (I think their kids ran off to explore a bit), and I had some new people to talk to. There was a kids activity center set up on the porch of one building, with a big box of crayons and paper for coloring. There was a fire ship nearby that was involved with 9/11, and at one point they tested their fire hoses and even though they were pointed across the river, things suddenly got a bit cooler with all the mist in the air. And I ended up chatting about history and reenacting with the older couple that was now behind me in line.
By the time I got to the dockside, I was still waiting for Marc and Brittney, who according to Brittney’s last text, had arrived, but were looking for parking. They were letting people on board in small groups, so I had a seat on a bench under the easy up they had provided (unfortunately, at that time of day I wasn’t actually in the shade). And ended up chatting with a woman who arrived soon afterwards who turned out to be a photographer for the local paper. We chatted about history and reenacting. She showed me some beautiful photos on her camera that she’d taken the night before when the storm was moving through. Very dramatic skies and lighting. And she told me that the local rev war historians reenact the burning of the town every year. Exciting! She took several photos of me in my History Nerd t-shirt with the ship in the background, but it doesn’t look like any of them ended up online.
Marc and Brittney finally arrived around 1:30, and we got into line. (Thankfully nobody complained about a young couple with a toddler jumping into line, but then again, I’d been there for a bit). They were letting people on board in small groups, maybe 8-10 people at a time, with a member of the crew as a tour guide. And this adorable goober was our tour guide. His name is Christof, he’s from Switzerland. He apologized for not being from Norway, but explained that even though the ship was from there, they had an international crew. He spoke pretty good English, but with a very odd accent. Over lunch Marc said that he sounded Australian, and he’s right! Wonder who taught him English and if it was actually an Australian or not?
The tour was maybe 20 minutes? We started with introductions and a short safety talk on the dock (watch your step there’s plenty of things to trip over, don’t touch the ropes, they’re covered with tar and it will get all over you and your clothes, etc.). Then he led us all on board and to the bow of the ship, where he talked about something, but I was busy oogled the carvings along the bow and the dragon head and can’t remember much of what he was saying at that point. Draken is really a beautiful ship. This is the big glamour shot, they had postcards and posters of this one for sale Saturday.
Then he moved our group over near the hatch to their modern toilet. He walk talking about how they don’t have shower facilities, so basically after about a week you just get used to the fact that you smell and that everyone smells. When they’re in warmer areas they might rinse off with a bucket of sea water, but when they were near Iceland and Greenland, it was too cold for that. The decks were this odd mix of reproduction historic gear (ropes, wooden chests, oars, shields) and modern gear (life jackets, buoys, fire extinguishers, etc.).
Our tour guide explained that the holes that I’d noticed along the floorboards with little covers were for the oars when they’re rowing her. The floor boards were loose and some had finger holes in them. When they row they just pull up the floor boards and sit on the ribs of the ship rather than have benches for the rowers. Of course, he repeated that ridiculous statement that they need someone shouting or pounding a beat to set the pace for the rowers. Everyone who doesn’t actually row seems to think that rowing a big boat is like all those Roman sword-and-sandal movies with the big lug beating time on a drum. But actual trained oarsmen? Know how to follow the “stroke” (lead rower) and don’t need anyone counting time for them. But Christof was clearly a sailor and not a rower, so I’ll forgive him that misconception.
Then he took us towards the stern and talked about the kitchen and bunks. IIRC, there are 20 bunks, but they’re not assigned and it’s first come, first serve as far as sleeping arrangements. When the weather’s nice, they’ll sleep on the decks under the stars. The sailors work in shifts, 4 hours on, 4 hours off. The kitchen is tiny, and I asked about food storage? If it took them six weeks to cross, had they left with six weeks worth of food? Nope, they had a modern chase ship following them for safety, and that carried the bulk of their supplies. Honestly, just thinking about sailing that ship with 40 Vikings and enough food and water to feed them for six weeks? Mind…. Boggling….
The last stop on our deck tour was the navigation station in the stern of the boat. Which had two big black carved ravens perched on either edge of the station. Either they only put them up for deck tours, or they’re a new addition/recent gift. Because I couldn’t find any photos of the ravens at all on Instagram or Facebook.
We were under a big canvas awning, so my photos came out dark, but here’s one of them.
And then, it was over and the group behind us was waiting for our space and we had to climb back onto the dock. Marc took a couple of photos of the baby (and us) by the stern of the ship. And we stood there and looked at her for a bit before moving on. Since it was just before 9/11, there were a couple of 9/11 themed displays (a subway car that had been pulled out of one of the towers that is going to be a new exhibit at the Trolley Museum, the Fire Boat on the water, a fire truck parked on the street). Our wee toddler needed to check out the fire truck. And the firemen were awesome with him, they had little child size fire hats to give away to the kids. And more photos were taken.
We were going to have lunch at the Mexican restaurant, but after standing inside waiting for the waitress to notice us for about ten minutes, we decided being ignored for so long was not a good sign. Our next stop was the Irish pub, which turned out to be more pub than restaurant. They had a decent menu, but no baby booster seat, and we were seated between the video game and the pool table. =P Brittney thanked me profusely for being patient about them being late etc. One the one hand, they were pretty late. But on the other hand, why would I get pissed off at my friends for being good parents? Toddlers are a handful, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't grant my friends some leeway for living with a tiny challenging person? People talk about "herding cats" but I think toddlers just might be harder. He was adorable though, in his little helicopter shirt and aeroplane shorts. It's like he knew it was going to be a transportation themed day when he insisted on wearing those clothes.
After lunch we strolled back down along the dock to check out the other boats. And stare some more at the Draken. I just couldn’t get enough of her gorgeous dragon figurehead. She is one seriously sexy ship.
A week or so ago Brittney posted to the Guild group on Facebook: A bit out of our time period, but if anyone wants to join in, we're going to this at the Kingston stop probably on Saturday the 10th. I also really want to figure out when it will be sailing by us, since we like, live right near the waterways they have to pass to get there.
She was going to go see the Viking ship Draken Harald Hårfagre. I’ve had a couple of different reenactor friends posting about her all summer, so I already knew a little bit about her, that she is a reproduction Viking vessel, that she’d sailed over from Norway this summer, and run into an unexpected snag when she was required to have a professional pilot that they hadn’t budgeted for which threatened to derail their planned tour of the Great Lakes.
Brittney and Marc were planning to visit her on her stop at the Hudson River Maritime Museum in Kingston, New York. I thought about it and figured this might be a once in a lifetime chance, the sort of thing that if I didn’t go I’d regret it. So I made plants to meet up with Marc and Brittany in Kingston around noon on Saturday.
I got on the road early Saturday. It was about a three and a half hour drive, in and out of sprinkles. Thankfully the weather cleared up and it was sunny, but hot and humid, all day. When I got to Kingston, the Garmin took me up a hill and out into a residential neighborhood, which didn’t feel quite right to me for some reason. When I got to the address, of course it was a residential house. Which makes me grateful (again) for my new phone. Google Maps to the rescue! With my phone’s assistance, I headed back down the hill (logically, water flows downhill) and found the river and the Maritime Museum.
Before I even got to the museum, there were cars parked along the side of the road. When I got there, it was clear why. Downtown Kingston, at least the part that I saw, seems to be pretty small. There were a few small parking lots, all overflowing with cars. I drove around, but there were plenty of other cars circling around waiting for people to pull out. I drove around the corner and up the block, and after banging a U turn, headed back towards the museum. But as I pulled back around the corner again, I spotted a car making a right turn away from the museum down a one-lane road. I thought I spotted a parking lot in that direction, so after checking out the lot with a couple of empty spaces (which turned out to be, unsurprisingly, handicapped parking) I made another U turn and took that little road. Turned out there was a hidden parking lot along the river for the marina, and I found a spot right away. Which meant that I just had a short walk along the very lovely boardwalk along the marina to get to the Maritime Museum.
I had managed to get there about 45 minutes early, but considering the parking situation, that was probably a good idea. I texted Brittney and let them know I was early, that my Garmin didn’t know how to get there (they should use Google Maps), and that I’d lurk around the museum until they got there. Also that parking was tight. She texted back at 11:30 that they were just leaving. “There was much baby poo. Then a baby bath. Now we’re getting in the car.”
So, now I had some time to kill. Luckily I’d spotted a couple of antique stores as I drove around looking for parking, so I decided to go antiquing. I ended up spending about an hour thoroughly prowling a rather large and well stocked antique store on the hill. It was one of those places where several different vendors share space, which always leads to a good mix of stuff. They had a lot of 60s furniture, couches, chairs, lamps. Lots of artwork. Some clothes and lots of costume jewelry. A pretty decent collection of woodworking tools, knifes, and razors. And on a big ledge above the cash register a rather large collection of Buster Brown shoe marketing stuff. Turns out the store owner’s father used to have a Buster Brown shoe store, and it was her personal collection (and not for sale).
After I finished at the antique store, I ran back to the car to drop off the box I’d purchased, then strolled down the boardwalk along the river, reading the historical markers along the way. It was around 12:30, and there was a pretty good line waiting to buy tickets to see the Draken, so I figured, might as well get in line and wait. Marc and Brittney would get there when they got there. Besides, what toddler wants to stand in line all day?
I ended up spending about an hour in line. It took probably 20 - 30 minutes to get to the ticket booth, and then once I had our tickets, the line moved inside the fence and snaked around the small yard. But I chatted with the folks in line behind me and kept myself amused. The wife was trying to keep track of a handful of kids, the father was drooling over all the boats (he wants one, can’t afford it). Then once I was inside the yard, the line shifted around a little (I think their kids ran off to explore a bit), and I had some new people to talk to. There was a kids activity center set up on the porch of one building, with a big box of crayons and paper for coloring. There was a fire ship nearby that was involved with 9/11, and at one point they tested their fire hoses and even though they were pointed across the river, things suddenly got a bit cooler with all the mist in the air. And I ended up chatting about history and reenacting with the older couple that was now behind me in line.
By the time I got to the dockside, I was still waiting for Marc and Brittney, who according to Brittney’s last text, had arrived, but were looking for parking. They were letting people on board in small groups, so I had a seat on a bench under the easy up they had provided (unfortunately, at that time of day I wasn’t actually in the shade). And ended up chatting with a woman who arrived soon afterwards who turned out to be a photographer for the local paper. We chatted about history and reenacting. She showed me some beautiful photos on her camera that she’d taken the night before when the storm was moving through. Very dramatic skies and lighting. And she told me that the local rev war historians reenact the burning of the town every year. Exciting! She took several photos of me in my History Nerd t-shirt with the ship in the background, but it doesn’t look like any of them ended up online.
Marc and Brittney finally arrived around 1:30, and we got into line. (Thankfully nobody complained about a young couple with a toddler jumping into line, but then again, I’d been there for a bit). They were letting people on board in small groups, maybe 8-10 people at a time, with a member of the crew as a tour guide. And this adorable goober was our tour guide. His name is Christof, he’s from Switzerland. He apologized for not being from Norway, but explained that even though the ship was from there, they had an international crew. He spoke pretty good English, but with a very odd accent. Over lunch Marc said that he sounded Australian, and he’s right! Wonder who taught him English and if it was actually an Australian or not?
The tour was maybe 20 minutes? We started with introductions and a short safety talk on the dock (watch your step there’s plenty of things to trip over, don’t touch the ropes, they’re covered with tar and it will get all over you and your clothes, etc.). Then he led us all on board and to the bow of the ship, where he talked about something, but I was busy oogled the carvings along the bow and the dragon head and can’t remember much of what he was saying at that point. Draken is really a beautiful ship. This is the big glamour shot, they had postcards and posters of this one for sale Saturday.
Then he moved our group over near the hatch to their modern toilet. He walk talking about how they don’t have shower facilities, so basically after about a week you just get used to the fact that you smell and that everyone smells. When they’re in warmer areas they might rinse off with a bucket of sea water, but when they were near Iceland and Greenland, it was too cold for that. The decks were this odd mix of reproduction historic gear (ropes, wooden chests, oars, shields) and modern gear (life jackets, buoys, fire extinguishers, etc.).
Our tour guide explained that the holes that I’d noticed along the floorboards with little covers were for the oars when they’re rowing her. The floor boards were loose and some had finger holes in them. When they row they just pull up the floor boards and sit on the ribs of the ship rather than have benches for the rowers. Of course, he repeated that ridiculous statement that they need someone shouting or pounding a beat to set the pace for the rowers. Everyone who doesn’t actually row seems to think that rowing a big boat is like all those Roman sword-and-sandal movies with the big lug beating time on a drum. But actual trained oarsmen? Know how to follow the “stroke” (lead rower) and don’t need anyone counting time for them. But Christof was clearly a sailor and not a rower, so I’ll forgive him that misconception.
Then he took us towards the stern and talked about the kitchen and bunks. IIRC, there are 20 bunks, but they’re not assigned and it’s first come, first serve as far as sleeping arrangements. When the weather’s nice, they’ll sleep on the decks under the stars. The sailors work in shifts, 4 hours on, 4 hours off. The kitchen is tiny, and I asked about food storage? If it took them six weeks to cross, had they left with six weeks worth of food? Nope, they had a modern chase ship following them for safety, and that carried the bulk of their supplies. Honestly, just thinking about sailing that ship with 40 Vikings and enough food and water to feed them for six weeks? Mind…. Boggling….
The last stop on our deck tour was the navigation station in the stern of the boat. Which had two big black carved ravens perched on either edge of the station. Either they only put them up for deck tours, or they’re a new addition/recent gift. Because I couldn’t find any photos of the ravens at all on Instagram or Facebook.
We were under a big canvas awning, so my photos came out dark, but here’s one of them.
And then, it was over and the group behind us was waiting for our space and we had to climb back onto the dock. Marc took a couple of photos of the baby (and us) by the stern of the ship. And we stood there and looked at her for a bit before moving on. Since it was just before 9/11, there were a couple of 9/11 themed displays (a subway car that had been pulled out of one of the towers that is going to be a new exhibit at the Trolley Museum, the Fire Boat on the water, a fire truck parked on the street). Our wee toddler needed to check out the fire truck. And the firemen were awesome with him, they had little child size fire hats to give away to the kids. And more photos were taken.
We were going to have lunch at the Mexican restaurant, but after standing inside waiting for the waitress to notice us for about ten minutes, we decided being ignored for so long was not a good sign. Our next stop was the Irish pub, which turned out to be more pub than restaurant. They had a decent menu, but no baby booster seat, and we were seated between the video game and the pool table. =P Brittney thanked me profusely for being patient about them being late etc. One the one hand, they were pretty late. But on the other hand, why would I get pissed off at my friends for being good parents? Toddlers are a handful, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't grant my friends some leeway for living with a tiny challenging person? People talk about "herding cats" but I think toddlers just might be harder. He was adorable though, in his little helicopter shirt and aeroplane shorts. It's like he knew it was going to be a transportation themed day when he insisted on wearing those clothes.
After lunch we strolled back down along the dock to check out the other boats. And stare some more at the Draken. I just couldn’t get enough of her gorgeous dragon figurehead. She is one seriously sexy ship.