The following is about a pirate friend of mine ; a boat builder and
shipswright
best to read at your leisure
Capt Russ
In his last days he wasn't moving around much; the wasting disease had set
in and was taking its own cruel time to kill him.
In his final weeks he had gone from cane to walker; became stooped and grey
and lost an eye to an internal rupture.
He wasn't able any longer to care for himself; the very drugs that were
saving him were now killing him ; and day by day his body was shutting down
In the last days He had no energy to do much of anything ; not even talk on
the phone and at most times not even listen.
He prepared his affairs only in the final week , as in the past he had
rallied so many times to " beat the dark bastard who swam at his wake " as he put
it.
When I last spoke to him he sounded good almost upbeat for 3 or 4 minuets
then all of a sudden drifted off into a un comprehensible dementia about
sailors and fortunes of long ago
Finally ;on a cold wet Fri this last Oct. ; as the red crimson leaves
crashed earth bound from the 100 yr old oaks of his North east home ,
Capt Russ released his earthly anchor and raised his celestial sail ; for
the promised waters of home.
He wasn't a real captain in the academic or enlisted sense.
He was self made; and self educated.
The sea was his life and mistress..... and you can lay to that.
Raised in an educated and somewhat prosperous family;
he often chose hardship over comfort in his quest for originality and
craft..
Quite simply the sea was his berth ;living on land was something that had
to be tolerated.
He rejected the straight laced paths of the corporate systems that dominated
the status quo as somewhat corrupt
as an original he chose to live on the edge, albeit somewhat ahead of the
law, as a talanted shipswright and privateer. .
He was the master of two large sailing ships that I know ; the Cayenne and
the Eeyore both registered Sag Harbor and Nantucket respectfully.
He piloted numerous others including the notorious "Werewolf " where life as
a mooncusser and freebooter in the salvage trade was well known to the cape
men who eeked a dangerous living in simular pursuits
He didn't bother with the day to day mundane of sport news nor the busy
world of his peers. He loved good tools and ships of wood .
His workshop was covered in sawdust and exotic woods ; he could reach for a
plank of teak just as easily as a 1929 deep sea rod complete with Penn reel
beautifully restored on the next table.
He sported a biblical Moses beard that drifted his belt buckle and by age 22
had the craggy sun blast look of an ancient mariner that was to accompany
him the rest of his life.
Musically he enjoyed jazz and blues ; he played an upright.
Politically he was aloof ; and most wary of any of any organization that
would want him as a member.. . .
His love was the sea..
He was a keen navigator and could sail by the stars and sun .
As an individualist He was an avid fisherman and could fly rod with the best
from the little eddies of the Cape Islands to the back water runs in the
Keys.
The amount of sea faring gear he collected and constantly took care of
could carry him around the globe several times ,
Fair weather or fowl, he was always prepared
He had stashes of small boats ; anchors, lines, props ; and sails of every
description and type all up and down the East coast from Maine to the
Florida's to which he would ferret to and from like a pack rat.
On land he managed to always stay dry and always had "warm berths "in such
places as the lower east side(NYC) ; The Carolina outer banks, Nantucket
Island,Sag Harbor , Port Judith , Prince Edward Island and key West including the
Florida Keys.
Once while unrolling a sail stashed in a sand bunker at Sag I unrolled a set
of hand made wood chisels from Japan and 15 bars of platinum silver .
Capt Russ unconcerned that I had discovered the plate astonished me by going
on and on about the beauty of the tools.
Whether it was a sailors knot or a double blood fishing knot he could do it,
and do it blindfolded at midnight during a force gale.
He liked coarse tobacco and "West coast " Scot whiskey and soft smart women
to nussle up to at his coastal hideouts.
His haunts were marine hardware stores and whiskey bars with the saw dust
and clam shells on the floor . The public phone was his only place of business
and he carried a small fortune in quarters tied to his belt to conduct it .
He could talk good sea story; , preferred lantern light to electric and was
agreeable to most humans as long as they were of honest in their dealings
with him and that included some questionable characters and honorable thieves.
At sea he set a different caliber; all business until under way ;
Then , if there was a favorable tide and a good wind he gave smile and
laughter put on some Louis Armstrong and gave homage to the gods that delivered
friends and lovers to share life with him upon the adventure of an open sea.
I
If the weather turned foul and the ship commanded attention then it was
expected for everyone to fall in line and follow orders. Cleaning, polishing and
arrangement of the hold followed by well earned meals and libations of ships
claret.
He often likened life to sailing ; "you need to know whose pulling with you
,as your life depends on it" he would say.
.
During his days as a privateer he conducted his businees world wide and
amassed an illegal fortune in gold bar and silver; wealthy he dressed down as an
ordinary seaman often in distressed leathers of lambswool and waterproof
affairs of oil and seal skins.
With his fierce beard and weathed skin and face and maritime attire he
would astonish well heeled dinners by ordering multiple bottles of Champagne
(Krug) then pick up the entire tab for his party and usher them downtown to the
late clubs for more of the same. . .
By his forties he was well known for his skills as a captain but more so
for his bohemian lifestyle of living life as a craftsman and bayman..
He never married and never fathered any children
His attraction for women was who he was . his "pirate girl "parties were
infamous
"captured "victims were held at sea for days or at one of his 19 cent
shanties found
along the rugged coast of Rhode Island or in the wooded inlets along
Long island.
Here if you were lucky enough to have sailed with him ,
could fight over the favors of these consorts who would dress the role and
often played pirate or slave girl depending on their fancy
The women who were "friends of the capt" or so to speak; would often be
compensated for rhendevous with the ship at odd ports in odd hours .
They loved it and so did he.
One such party almost ended in disaster but it bears retelling;
The Elizabeth Islands grace the New England waters a little South east of
Martha's Vineyard or about 22 miles out to sea ;
There the Cayenne put down anchor after a day of hard sailing from the upper
Cape to Nantucket then on to the Elizabeths.
The portage in the Elizabeths are tiny, 15 boats are a crowd ; 30 a potent
for trouble .
The Cayanne threw her hook down in late July afternoon and the parties
aboard boats began;
Shrimps on the barbie; fresh tuna with wasabi ; lobster and then by long boat
a gaggle of giggling pirate girls with eye patches,do rags and bronzed skin
boarded trading in kisses and making merry an already jolly crew of unwashed
men. .
The evening brought on dubious Games of chance ; which included a drunken
chorus during a mock whipping at the mast ; later followed a curious yet
naughty game of "hide the oyster" which was not for the faint of heart if you
don't like oysters..
Lets see two of the female hellions played fiddle and pipe for a seductive
sword dance and
Frothy cool concoctions of island rum and fresh coconut graced the tables
by a well endowed Mistress of the Captain...
Then well into the night when all were in bed and the whispers and little
crys became hushed to a dark Atlantic sky the weather turned for the worse and
no one knew it
A sudden gale from nowhere sprung up from the South East and the holiday
yachts and boats so crowded on anchor began swaying on anchor crashing into one
another.
in the dark of the night
Awaken from his berth; Capt Russ bound from his quarters with his mistress
scampering half naked behind him .
I had my berth on deck up by the jib and anchor; the wind was suddenly wildly
rocking the boat; when I awoke just in time to see his mistress running up
barefoot and bare breasted with an ax as he bellowed for her to "cut the
anchor"... "cut the bloody anchor'.
Awaken from sleep seeing a bare breasted women running up at you with an ax
is most sobering .......However peering around me I suddenly grasped the
sitiuation as a living hell
The tiny harbor was a bedlam of boats in a pitched sea dragging their anchors
into one another in a heavy gale wind.
You couldn't really see anything in this inky hell until it was right upon
you .
IBesides the wind there were other screams of people whose boats were
plowing into one another.
Capt Russ immediately fired his auxilliary motor was just able to maneuver
enough where two drifting 40 fts ran by him like runaway trains.
The young pirate woman struggled with the ax in the pitch and yaw of the bow
I assited her took over having cut the anchor in 3 well aimed chops at the
rope line
setting us and the boat free ;
But now we had to get out of there ; as we were in a parking lot with all the
cars rolling into to one another with terrible consequence.
The rocking motion of the turn into the waves thrashed both the woman and
myself atop one another on the deck where we held each other with dear life
and unto to the hawser line in a desperate attempt to save us from going
overboard. .
One slip overboard and you were pretty much lost to the storm .
As the rest of the crew pulled line and dumped sail
One of the other pirate girls much to her credit managed to crawl forward in
wearing nothing but a leopard panty and as the waves were breaking our deck
delivered by order of the captain a hand held search light to assist in
the navigation.
The Cayenne was making way through a blind jumble of distressed ships in a
boiling pitch of black horror and howling screams;
Now down wind both girls crawled back to the cockpit clutching the lines as
I
steadied myself to the bowsprit and would scan and spot one drifting large
yacht after another making towards us with terrible speed.
Fortunately we were able to hard wheel the rudder left and right in a
series of what seemed like impossible yet calculated turns by our captain.
The drifting yachts dragging anchor as their owners and their hapless
guests in night wear appeared as crying ghosts in the beam of the light .
There was nothing to do but get out of there ; the wind and the high swell of
the waves made it impossible to assit anyone ..
Soon we cleared the harbor mouth and it was all behind us and we were out to
open sea .
With nothing but the tempest of the wind to drive us on; we motored and
sailed the rest of the night until dawn broke in some delicate pinks and
graced us with a fair wind and a school of porpoise to guide us.
Although not that many the years have past since then; Capt Russ headed for
the lucrative waters of the Keys and I made way accross country in an odessy of
stone old buildnigs and craft .
We got together in winters ;on remote keys that you can only sail to ;
no cars no stores only the fish you catch and the rice you bring in with you .
We enjoyed many January nights fishing under the stars in the dark blue
wilderness of the Gulf stream Eating what we catch and letting go the rest .
Capt Russ rode lifes edge and took chances where others wouldn't;
he gambled one night with a woman of breed and good standing and
contacted the HIV virus. . That as over ten years ago and well when its all over
whose to say that it all wasn't worth it ..
.
Sail on my brother;oh how sadly I will miss you.....Michael
Capt Russ Roche
1949-03
Master of the Cayanne and Eeyore
Shipswright and Privateer
buried at sea, Nantucket
--
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