Heartbeat


It's finally spring(ish) here, and I'm so excited that my next book, Heartbeat, will be out soon (June 12, but you can pre-order now!)



Heartbeat follows the life of a baby whale from birth, to song, to silence, to a new song of compassion and hope for a brighter future. It is a story about empathy, and about our relationship to the environment, and to each other.


It has just received a starred review from Booklist (which will come out in April) and a wonderful review from Kirkus!


To start off a few posts about the making of the book, I thought the best way to begin was with the post I did about my experience aboard the 38th Voyage of the Charles W. Morgan whaleship in 2014, a major source of inspiration for Heartbeat.
 
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Why should you be excited that a historic whaleship sailed into a marine sanctuary and saw whales?

It is a valid question, and one I have asked myself as I became increasingly excited and passionate about the trip. On July 10th I boarded the Charles W. Morgan, the last wooden whaleship in the world, as a part of the 38th Voyagers program with Mystic Seaport, funded partially by a grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities. On July 11th we sailed into the Stellwagen Bank National Marine Sanctuary on a mission of peace to the first whales seen off the deck of the Morgan in nearly 100 years. It is an event largely without precedence in our country's relationship to its troubled history with the environment. To use history as the literal vehicle for scientific education about the future is something to be excited about.

Sunset, moonrise, and glittering moonlight over the decks of the Morgan

We approached the Morgan, moored out past the harbor in Provincetown, in the glow of a radiant sunset. As we climbed aboard and began our orientation, I kept rubbernecking to the sunset behind us. After the orientation we had plenty of time to sit on deck, talk amongst the voyagers, and watch the nearly full moon glitter across the water through the rigging.

Captain Kip Files

The next morning, after breakfast, we awoke and began preparing for our sail. Captain Kip Files introduced us to the voyage as we prepared to hoist the anchor and head out towards Stellwagen.

Chief Mate Sam Sikkema, Second Mate Sean Bercaw, and Third Mate Rocky Hadler

Chief Mate Sam Sikkema, Second Mate Sean Bercaw, and Third Mate Rocky Hadler (whose birthday it was!) kept the ship and crew moving smoothly as the 38th voyagers wandered about, oohing and ahhing over the experience of being on board.


It took the combined teamwork of most of the crew and guests to haul the 1600 pounds of anchor aboard. With the ship liberated from her root, the tugboat pulled us out to sea.


The tiny figures of the deckhands were suspended 10 stories above us as they climbed aloft and began to release the sails.

  
As the sails began to descend, the entire landscape of the ship would change from one minute to the next. The sails became like canyons across the deck, funneling the wind up and propelling the ship forward on her own power.




As they unfurled the mainsail, it billowed down like a heavy stage curtain until it filled with wind and held taut.


In full sail, the masts soared over the deck like immense, luminous towers that the crew would rotate to follow and catch the wind. The ship moved forward towards the Sanctuary, with its crew of artists, educators, and researchers.

Anne DiMonti and Gary Wikfors

Myself and the other 38th voyagers scurried about, working on our various projects. The scientists began their observations and measurements. Anne DiMonti of the Audobon Society and Gary Wikfors, marine biologist and musician, were two that assisted in dropping a phytoplankton net over the side to examine the types of microscopic life that were living in the bay. On a voyage into a whale sanctuary, it's amazing to see the other side of the size spectrum of life in the same sea.

Beth Shultz

Beth Shultz, a literary scholar, professor, and collector of the art of Moby Dick, was on board absorbing the sights, sounds, and smells of a whaleship and creating poetry from the experience. Other voyagers used photography, video, and historic navigational tools to record their fleeting time aboard.


Then came the moment we had all been waiting for. With the tugboat gone, we were at full sail and entering the Marine Sanctuary. Suddenly, from up in the masts, the shout came out: "WHALE!"


And there, just over the starboard side of the ship, a minke whale's arched back crested the water and slithered back underneath. This was the first whale seen from the deck of the Morgan in almost 100 years. We watched her fade into the distance as we sailed by, her glistening fin surfacing every so often until she disappeared under the water.

 

As we sailed deeper into the sanctuary, the whaleboat was lowered over the side, in the same way it would have been during a whale chase.


In the distance, we began to see spouts, the shimmering exhalation of the whales.


Soon we were surrounded by humpback whales, surfacing, feeding, and spouting. The tiny whaleboat gingerly approached them, becoming dwarfed by the massive creatures.


With no malice on either side, the crew on the whaleboat watched as humpback whales surfaced, fluked, and fed just a little ways from their boat. How magical to be in the same place as a whaler from the Morgan, but with no task to do, no prey to kill, just time to sit and watch in awe.


The whales came closer to the Morgan, raising their elegant tails into the air and mightily slapping the surface of the water right next to the ship. It's hard not to think that the whales are aware that they are communicating with us. Whether or not they were trying to directly say something, their actions communicated with us nonetheless. They were not fleeing, they were not attacking, we were merely two species sharing the same speck of ocean for a time.


The crew and guests, meanwhile, buzzed about in a state of euphoria. Nearby, prominent marine biologist and explorer Sylvia Earle was interviewed about her thoughts on the Morgan's voyage into the Sanctuary. She spoke about how until recently, and in the time of the Morgan's whalers, it was always taken for granted that there would always be enough fish, enough whales, enough ocean. It is only a new change in perception that we realize that, small though we may be, we have an enormous impact on our environment and it cannot be taken for granted that it will always be there. This new awareness fills the sails of this 38th voyage and propels the Morgan forward on her new journey.

Gary Wikfors plays a German waldzither built during the same time period as the Morgan as we were towed back into port.

The Charles W. Morgan is an amazing confluence of what is important about history, and what is important about the future. Her history knits together the entire world, through her journeys and through the men who sailed aboard her. The cargo she brought back, spermaceti, oil, and baleen, served as the predecessors of the plastics industry and the industrial revolution. The light created from the oil and wax of sperm whales lit the world of the 19th century. The bodies of whales fed hungry people across the world after World War II as mechanized factory whaling took hold and decimated whale populations.


Today, our oceans are in an even more deplorable state as we harvest them beyond their breaking point and pollute them beyond all reason. But as perceptions of the natural world change, whales offer a symbolic embodiment of this change. These immense creatures that were once floating commodities, are now seen as one of the greatest ambassadors of the awe of the natural world.


The sailing of this ship is not just an event that is important to New England and its community that is so inextricably linked to whaling history, it is of nationwide and worldwide importance. To be able to resussitate a piece of history and use it as a catalyst for education and change is an amazing feat, and one that can act as an inspiration going forward. History and tradition do not need to be impediments to change and progress; they can be the wind that carries this change.



Through history, people can reaffirm their connections to their roots, while also becoming educated and invigorated about how that history connects to the changes that need to be made today. Provincetown, from which I sailed on the Morgan into the Stellwagen National Marine Sanctuary, used to be one of the busiest whaling ports in the world. Today, it is a huge center for whale conservation and related tourism. A large part of the town’s image today is based around the idea that protecting and learning about whales can be good business.



Imagine if communities across the world, entrenched in history and tradition, saw conservation as a viable way to preserve those histories.  Because of the Morgan’s new message, the history and tradition associated with whaling will be relevant for many more decades to come.


The Morgan sailing again does not mean our oceans are fixed. It does not mean our relationship with our oceans is fixed. The Morgan's voyage is not a victory lap, but it can be the starting pistol.

To see video and photos of the Morgan's voyages in Stellwagen, check out the links below:

From Whaling to Watching

For more of Evan Turk's travel illustration, check out the link below: 
Evan Turk Travel Illustration

The Charles W. Morgan: The 38th Voyage


Why should you be excited that a historic whaleship sailed into a marine sanctuary and saw whales?

It is a valid question, and one I have asked myself as I became increasingly excited and passionate about the trip. On July 10th I boarded the Charles W. Morgan, the last wooden whaleship in the world, as a part of the 38th Voyagers program with Mystic Seaport, funded partially by a grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities. On July 11th we sailed into the Stellwagen Bank National Marine Sanctuary on a mission of peace to the first whales seen off the deck of the Morgan in nearly 100 years. It is an event largely without precedence in our country's relationship to its troubled history with the environment. To use history as the literal vehicle for scientific education about the future is something to be excited about.

Sunset, moonrise, and glittering moonlight over the decks of the Morgan

We approached the Morgan, moored out past the harbor in Provincetown, in the glow of a radiant sunset. As we climbed aboard and began our orientation, I kept rubbernecking to the sunset behind us. After the orientation we had plenty of time to sit on deck, talk amongst the voyagers, and watch the nearly full moon glitter across the water through the rigging.

Captain Kip Files

The next morning, after breakfast, we awoke and began preparing for our sail. Captain Kip Files introduced us to the voyage as we prepared to hoist the anchor and head out towards Stellwagen.

Chief Mate Sam Sikkema, Second Mate Sean Bercaw, and Third Mate Rocky Hadler

Chief Mate Sam Sikkema, Second Mate Sean Bercaw, and Third Mate Rocky Hadler (whose birthday it was!) kept the ship and crew moving smoothly as the 38th voyagers wandered about, oohing and ahhing over the experience of being on board.


It took the combined teamwork of most of the crew and guests to haul the 1600 pounds of anchor aboard. With the ship liberated from her root, the tugboat pulled us out to sea.


The tiny figures of the deckhands were suspended 10 stories above us as they climbed aloft and began to release the sails.

  
As the sails began to descend, the entire landscape of the ship would change from one minute to the next. The sails became like canyons across the deck, funneling the wind up and propelling the ship forward on her own power.




As they unfurled the mainsail, it billowed down like a heavy stage curtain until it filled with wind and held taut.


In full sail, the masts soared over the deck like immense, luminous towers that the crew would rotate to follow and catch the wind. The ship moved forward towards the Sanctuary, with its crew of artists, educators, and researchers.

Anne DiMonti and Gary Wikfors

Myself and the other 38th voyagers scurried about, working on our various projects. The scientists began their observations and measurements. Anne DiMonti of the Audobon Society and Gary Wikfors, marine biologist and musician, were two that assisted in dropping a phytoplankton net over the side to examine the types of microscopic life that were living in the bay. On a voyage into a whale sanctuary, it's amazing to see the other side of the size spectrum of life in the same sea.

Beth Shultz

Beth Shultz, a literary scholar, professor, and collector of the art of Moby Dick, was on board absorbing the sights, sounds, and smells of a whaleship and creating poetry from the experience. Other voyagers used photography, video, and historic navigational tools to record their fleeting time aboard.


Then came the moment we had all been waiting for. With the tugboat gone, we were at full sail and entering the Marine Sanctuary. Suddenly, from up in the masts, the shout came out: "WHALE!"


And there, just over the starboard side of the ship, a minke whale's arched back crested the water and slithered back underneath. This was the first whale seen from the deck of the Morgan in almost 100 years. We watched her fade into the distance as we sailed by, her glistening fin surfacing every so often until she disappeared under the water.

 

As we sailed deeper into the sanctuary, the whaleboat was lowered over the side, in the same way it would have been during a whale chase.


In the distance, we began to see spouts, the shimmering exhalation of the whales.


Soon we were surrounded by humpback whales, surfacing, feeding, and spouting. The tiny whaleboat gingerly approached them, becoming dwarfed by the massive creatures.


With no malice on either side, the crew on the whaleboat watched as humpback whales surfaced, fluked, and fed just a little ways from their boat. How magical to be in the same place as a whaler from the Morgan, but with no task to do, no prey to kill, just time to sit and watch in awe.


The whales came closer to the Morgan, raising their elegant tails into the air and mightily slapping the surface of the water right next to the ship. It's hard not to think that the whales are aware that they are communicating with us. Whether or not they were trying to directly say something, their actions communicated with us nonetheless. They were not fleeing, they were not attacking, we were merely two species sharing the same speck of ocean for a time.


The crew and guests, meanwhile, buzzed about in a state of euphoria. Nearby, prominent marine biologist and explorer Sylvia Earle was interviewed about her thoughts on the Morgan's voyage into the Sanctuary. She spoke about how until recently, and in the time of the Morgan's whalers, it was always taken for granted that there would always be enough fish, enough whales, enough ocean. It is only a new change in perception that we realize that, small though we may be, we have an enormous impact on our environment and it cannot be taken for granted that it will always be there. This new awareness fills the sails of this 38th voyage and propels the Morgan forward on her new journey.

Gary Wikfors plays a German waldzither built during the same time period as the Morgan as we were towed back into port.

The Charles W. Morgan is an amazing confluence of what is important about history, and what is important about the future. Her history knits together the entire world, through her journeys and through the men who sailed aboard her. The cargo she brought back, spermaceti, oil, and baleen, served as the predecessors of the plastics industry and the industrial revolution. The light created from the oil and wax of sperm whales lit the world of the 19th century. The bodies of whales fed hungry people across the world after World War II as mechanized factory whaling took hold and decimated whale populations.


Today, our oceans are in an even more deplorable state as we harvest them beyond their breaking point and pollute them beyond all reason. But as perceptions of the natural world change, whales offer a symbolic embodiment of this change. These immense creatures that were once floating commodities, are now seen as one of the greatest ambassadors of the awe of the natural world.


The sailing of this ship is not just an event that is important to New England and its community that is so inextricably linked to whaling history, it is of nationwide and worldwide importance. To be able to resussitate a piece of history and use it as a catalyst for education and change is an amazing feat, and one that can act as an inspiration going forward. History and tradition do not need to be impediments to change and progress; they can be the wind that carries this change.



Through history, people can reaffirm their connections to their roots, while also becoming educated and invigorated about how that history connects to the changes that need to be made today. Provincetown, from which I sailed on the Morgan into the Stellwagen National Marine Sanctuary, used to be one of the busiest whaling ports in the world. Today, it is a huge center for whale conservation and related tourism. A large part of the town’s image today is based around the idea that protecting and learning about whales can be good business.



Imagine if communities across the world, entrenched in history and tradition, saw conservation as a viable way to preserve those histories.  Because of the Morgan’s new message, the history and tradition associated with whaling will be relevant for many more decades to come.


The Morgan sailing again does not mean our oceans are fixed. It does not mean our relationship with our oceans is fixed. The Morgan's voyage is not a victory lap, but it can be the starting pistol.

To see video and photos of the Morgan's voyages in Stellwagen, check out the links below:

From Whaling to Watching

For more of Evan Turk's travel illustration, check out the link below: 
Evan Turk Travel Illustration

The Charles W. Morgan Homecoming: New Bedford


This 4th of July weekend I was able to go to New Bedford to see the Charles W. Morgan on her 38th voyage. The Morgan was built in New Bedford in 1841, and the city gratefully opened its gates to welcome her home over 170 years later.

I will be joining the captain and crew of this 19th-century whaleship as a 38th Voyager during the ship's historic voyage THIS WEEKEND! While aboard, I will be drawing and observing the workings of the ship (and maybe a whale!!!) as she sails into the Stellwagen Bank National Marine Sanctuary. In addition to the work created on-board, I will be creating an animation about the Morgan, whale conservation, and our evolving compassion towards whales, other animals, and each other. You can view my previous animation about the cultural history of whaling below, which was created as a part of a collaboration between Dalvero Academy and Mystic Seaport.




It was my first time seeing her outfitted with all of the rigging and sails. It's amazing how different the experience of drawing her is, compared to several years ago when she was out of the water on dry dock.


Most of the ship we drew is now below water, and with her masts she extends up even higher above the water. She is a completely new shape, but still the same ship.


They closed the Morgan's pier in preparation for the night's fireworks (on July 5th, because New Bedford had been completely flooded on the holiday!) so we moved over to another pier.


We waited for the fireworks as the sun set behind the rigging of commercial fishing vessels and lit the sky behind the Morgan's masts in the distance.


As we waited, a family came over to wait and watch the fireworks on the risers near us. The two kids, Henry and Audrey, were very curious about my drawing and got closer to help art direct as we passed the time. Audrey helped pick the colors, while her older brother helped me figure out what to draw. I like the abstraction that came out of the collaboration in the drawing above! When his mother asked Henry why he thought we were drawing, he very astutely replied "So that you can remember what you see!" Right on, Henry! There is no better way to remember or appreciate something than to spend time drawing it and really thinking about it.


We then collaborated on a drawing of our surroundings. I added in a couple boats, sails, and shapes. Henry added in a sailboat, a flock of birds, the water, and his grandfather in a hat. Audrey then painted over the drawing of the grandfather with black (no offense intended, I'm sure), which Henry and I filled in with bright marks and colors as we watched the fireworks. Such a pleasure to do this drawing with the two of them! It's always nice to unwind and just play around with paint and pastels.

The Charles W. Morgan: The Main Topmast: Part 2


For the second part of my day at Mystic Seaport, we were able to see the crew pull the Charles W. Morgan out into the river and turn her 180 degrees towards the shipyard. Quentin Snediker, director of the restoration, offered us the chance to ride in one of the small boats in the river for the operation, so my friend and fellow Dalvero Academy member, Jennifer Kiamzon, and I jumped at the chance and hopped in. Other Academy members were onboard the Morgan itself or perched on top of some nearby scaffolding.


Seeing the enormous ship from the water was such an exhilarating experience! The tiny boats like the one we were in rotated around the Morgan like a school of little fish around a giant whale. The little one in the drawing above had a powerful motor, and hooked itself onto her bow and began pulling the Morgan into the river.


We drifted peacefully away from the whaleship as the other boats pushed and pulled her massive heft into the river. Suddenly we heard Quentin shout the name of our boat over the walkie-talkie and the driver gunned the engine and headed for the Morgan's hull.


Before we knew it Jen and I were flailing back as Paul, aboard our boat, leapt over us and braced himself against the hull of the Morgan as our boat rammed into her side.


We peered up at the towering masts as Quentin surveyed the boats over the side of the Morgan and shouted orders to push and rotate her into place.

 

We moved away, and then rushed in several times for Paul to leap forward and press against the boat.


As the Morgan finished her rotation, the boats dispersed and we headed back to dock.



She now faces in towards the shipyard with her monumental prow jutting out over the dock.



For a couple of landlubbers it was an amazing experience! Peering up at her towering masts from the water made me imagine what it must have been like for the sailors in the whaleboats on the hunt, seeing much this same view as they prepared for a grueling, cruel chase in the open ocean. One behemoth looming above them, and another diving beneath.

The Charles W. Morgan: Main Topmast: Part 1


This weekend I had the opportunity to go back to Mystic Seaport and see them adding a taller part to the middle mast, known as the main topmast, to the Charles W. Morgan, the last wooden whaleship in the world. All three lower masts were in when we arrived, and they were preparing to attach the extension with an enormous crane.


The crew began prepping the rig.

 

Quentin Snediker (front left) oversaw the production as the crew worked and the crane loomed overhead.


A tall spindly ladder was hooked onto the crane and swung around onto the Morgan so that Alex, one of the key crew-members for this installation, could climb up to the very top of the lower mast to perform the installation.


 
 
This is not a job for those afraid of heights.

 


A block of concrete bricks was hauled onto the ship as ballast to help stop the Morgan from listing.


Alex climbed to the top of the mast and secured the necessary ropes before they brought the top portion of the mast to install.


The crew on the ground hooked the mast onto the crane.


The crane swung the topmast, as big as a tree, over our heads and above the Morgan.


Perched atop the mast, Alex and Matt guided the topmast into its locking position and began securing the two together.


The top of the mast now has two "spreaders" which look like outstretched arms. 


With each new addition, the Morgan becomes more and more stately and grand. After she was lowered into the water at the launch in July, the ship felt a little short and squat, with less of the immense impact she had out of the water. But as she grows taller and taller with each new piece, you get closer to seeing how impressive she will be with her full rigging and sails.

Stay tuned for Part 2 where I get to ride in a small boat in the river as the crew actually moves the enormous whaleship!

Patterns: Woods Hole Film Festival Award Winner

 

I just returned from a drawing workshop to DisneyWorld to the very exciting news that my animation "Patterns", about the Charles W. Morgan whaleship, won the Audience Award for Animation or Experimental Short at the Woods Hole Film Festival. I wasn't able to attend due to the drawing workshop, but I'm very honored that my animation was so well received! Thank you to the Woods Hole Film Festival 2013 and to everyone who saw and enjoyed it!

You can check out the trailer and more stills from the animation here:

The Launch of the Charles W. Morgan


“Human beings have always celebrated resurrection, restoration, renewal and return.
The only thing greater than the miracle of life itself can sometimes seem to be
the miracle of something brought back to life…"
 Ric Burns, Mystic Seaport, July 21, 2013


This July 21st, the 172nd anniversary of the Charles W. Morgan’s first voyage, the last wooden whaleship in the world was lowered back into the Mystic River after 5 years of painstaking restoration.

I have been documenting the restoration of the Morgan with Dalvero Academy since 2009, so it was a very exciting day for us to be able to witness and document her return to the water. Our show, Restoring a Past, Charting a Future, will still be on view at Mystic Seaport through this September.


We arrived the day before to see her out on dry land one last time, this time perched at the edge of the pier on her stilts.


The Morgan boasted a fresh new paint job since our last visit, with numbers on her bow that we knew would soon be submerged in the river. 

 

Most of the ship we had drawn and explored for 4 years would soon be gone, and I couldn’t help feeling a bit of melancholy along with the excitement.

 


The next morning, we arrived early to see the set-up, only to be greeted by giant storm clouds and intermittent downpours. We huddled inside sheds, under overhangs, and under the tents watching as the ship’s crew prepared for the day ahead.


The crew toasted her rebirth with a swig of rum, and then passed the bottle to us, like part of the team.

 

Finally the clouds parted, and crowds began to fill every corner of the shipyard. 


Quentin Snediker, the head of the shipyard and our guide through the restoration process, attended to the preparations with stoic calm.


More and more spectators filtered in, buzzing with anticipation.


State troopers surrounded the center platform as curious kayakers began to flock around the river to watch the ceremony.


The speeches began with the president of Mystic Seaport, Stephen C. White, as he proclaimed the magnitude and the significance of the Morgan’s next journey.


Camera crews swirled as the dignitaries gave their speeches, with the keynote from documentary filmmaker, Ric Burns.


The honor of the christening of the ship was given to Sarah Bullard, the great-great-great granddaughter of Charles W. Morgan himself.


Bullard’s granddaughter, little Polly Morgan and her family waved to her from the crowd. She will be the next generation to inherit the Morgan and her legacy.


The snowy haired duo, Quentin Snediker and Sarah Bullard, stood beneath crowning bow of the ship, like proud parents sending their daughter off into the world.


The ship would be christened with water from each of the seas the Morgan sailed, and a drop of rum for luck.


With a crash, Bullard inaugurated the Morgan's descent into the water, and a cheer erupted from the shipyard and the river.


We all watched as she began to disappear into the river, and I noticed Quentin looking on. Only he and the shipwrights could know the thousands of hours and hands that went into carefully shaping each timber and plank of wood that now disappeared beneath the water, gently cradling the ship and keeping her afloat. At the end of her slow descent, the numbers on her bow vanished, one by one into the water. As the '9' broke the surface, the call went out "She is afloat!" and again the crowd burst into raucous applause.


As she went beneath the water, I imagined all the hands and souls that left their mark and went down with her. I watched her there, half submerged, hoping that the generations to come will know how far her depths reach below that water.


"Restoring a Past, Charting a Future" at Mystic Seaport


I am proud to announce that I am participating in an upcoming show at Mystic Seaport as a part of Dalvero Academy called "Restoring a Past, Charting a Future". You can see a preview of some of the wonderful art and learn more about the show here:

http://dalveromystic.com/

It is a group of 24 artists who have been documenting the restoration of the last wooden whaling ship in the world, The Charles W. Morgan, and the art that came out of that study and research.

Inspired by my friend and fellow Dalvero-er, Alex Charner, I'll be posting some drawings from Mystic that I've done that will not be at the show. Check out his beautiful daily posts here:

http://alexcharner.com/

As well as Julia Sverchuk's fantastic drawings from Mystic here:

http://juliaidrawings.blogspot.com/