Relief in a bottle

My maternal grandfather went to sea from Machiasport Maine as a very young man. He was a member of the Burnt IslandLife Saving Station, 1912-1913  as a Surfman. He then served on the Lifehouse Tender, Zizania, 1914-1915(they were all named for grasses or flowers)as Quartermaster, setting buoys and supplying lighthouses. Once he had his Captain's license he was the Master of coal hauling vessels up and down the East Coast.

In the1931 to the early 50s he served on Lightships anchored off the Massachusetts Coast. They were essentially floating lighthouses, anchored on dangerous shoals protecting sea going mariners at great risk to themselves. Grandpa served on several ships, the Pollock Rip Lightship#110 anchored in the Pollock Rip Slough, a narrow channel of Vineyard Sound , Lightship Handkerchief#98 and The Relief, the vessel you see in the bottle, a prune juice bottle by the way. The Relief, Lightship No. 114  in service from 1947 to 1958, functioned as a relief vessel off the New England coast before being stationed at Pollock Rip off Cape Cod, Massachusetts. In 1969, the vessel served in the harbor of Portland, Maine, before retiring from duty in 1971.

I don't know when my grandfather crafted this ship in a bottle, but it's something I treasure. It's in a window here and as I walked past it today I thought about blipping it. I never thought of my quiet and kind grampa with a strong Downeast accent as particularly brave, but he must have been. I knew him very well, as we lived next door. He was a willing  a summer night Parchessi player with my grandmother and me on the screened in piazza. He was an avid gardener, growing gladiolus, planting blueberry bushes, and tending chickens. He did special little things, like  ordering pencils with my name on then when no one else in grade two had had those. When I turned 13 in1962, he gave me a black battery operated transistor radio. I still have it and we have used it when the power goes out. That was a very special gift. In the 60s he made a fabulous model of a rigged sailing vessel that my brother has now. I think this ship in the bottle was made before that, perhaps on a vessel whiling away the salty hours anchored at sea. I can imagine my grandmother's relief when he retired and finally settled as a landlubber during my childhood. I miss you, grampa.

For the Record,
This day came in dark and gloomy once more. We'd love a little snow to brighten things up.

All hands wary.