I once had a Captain that likened a ship to an acoustic guitar. Every step, skip, hop, and movement on her decks will reverberate below he claimed. I have found through my experiences aboard many a ship that this is entirely the case. In the past I quickly learned to identify my crewmates through their steps and jumps above, by their pitter patters on the ladders, even through their ways of opening and closing a door. Flat footed or in boots, it's amazing how your ear becomes atuned. In the case of Monster, it is no different. Though these days I listen with a whole new piqued interest. There isn't as many crewmates, but there is now much more to hear, or so it seems, as Monster is our boat, our home. Not to mention there is our Boy to be continually keeping an ear on.
The deckboards perpetually creak beneath our feet, but I no longer wake in the night as the Dog walks about up forward. Nor when she slumps upon the deck to eat, her dog tags clinking and clanking against her bowl. Have you ever heard the sound of Lego tumbling and crashing, hitting a bare wooden deck?
I am ever longing to hear the sounds of our vessel underway. The ringing of the alarm as the engine is started. The sound of the halyards hoisting, the wind filling the sails, the waves breaking upon the hull, perhaps the sound of a bone in her teeth. The luffing of a jib. The sound of the boom tacking and the winches winding. All followed by the contented sound of silence as the engine is cut. Inevitably there will be the sound as the anchor rhode is let go, the chain racing through the hawse, and the splash of the anchor into the water. The only ice in my drink. Ahh.
~~This post 'The Sound of Monster' first appeared on goodshipmonster.blogspot.ca~~