A Unique Voyage

Several months ago, my son James entered my name in a lottery to hopefully win a voyage aboard the USS Constitution when she next ventured forth from her berth on Independence Day.  An icon of the Boston waterfront, the Constitution regularly reposes at her dock at the Navy Yard in Charlestown.  Constructed in the 1790s and still an officially commissioned ship of the United States Navy, she serves primarily as a museum and historic site.  Students of maritime history and casual tourists come to Boston to visit this ship and the associated historic shipyard.  Once per year, on the 4^th of July, the Constitution gets underway to make a day cruise through Boston Harbor and render military honors to commemorate the anniversary of the Declaration of Independence.  From a pool of tens of thousands of names, a few hundred are selected by a random lottery, and these lucky few are then invited to make the Independence Day voyage as guests of the Navy.  To my infinite surprise, I became one of the lucky few this year, and I was allowed to bring one travelling companion with me.

To prepare its guests for the voyage, the Navy sent paperwork describing the shipboard accommodations and instructions for reporting aboard.  There would be low overheads, confined quarters, minimal seating, no meal service, and no air conditioning.  In other words, the Constitution was not a cruise ship!  All guests were advised to bring drinking water, a snack, and sunscreen, and to be prepared for very hot weather.  Additionally, everyone would need to pass through a military security screening prior to boarding.

I chose my son Michael as my companion, and early in the morning of Saturday, July 4, 2026, we drove from Nashua to the Charlestown neighborhood of Boston.  After passing quickly and painlessly through the security checkpoint, we boarded the vessel at 8:30am:

The scheduled sailing time was 10:00am, so we had ample opportunity to explore the ship and become acquainted with everything.  Starting on the main deck, we noticed that there were only two sails on the ship, one on the foremast and one on the mizzen.  Clearly, the Constitution would not get underway on her own today.  Nonetheless, even without sails, the masts, crosstrees, and rigging were an impressive sight, no doubt the state of the art in the late eighteenth century:

As we admired the rigging, music filled the air.  A military band played naval and patriotic songs.  Later, when underway, another band dressed in colonial uniforms would also serenade us.  Next, going below to the gun deck, we discovered a row of massive cannons on each side of the ship.  Formidable looking weapons, their very presence stated that they meant business and were not to be trifled with:

Ironically, each cannon bore a design consisting of a crown and the stylized initials GR for Georgius Rex, King George:

I asked a petty officer about this, and he explained that while these guns were replicas, they were exact copies of the originals, which were in fact British.  At the time of her construction, the Constitution was fitted with British guns because the young United States did not yet have an armaments industry of sufficient capacity.

Close to the guns were the crew quarters.  All the men who did the grunt labor and dirty work slept in hammocks in a common area, an efficient but not luxurious use of the space:

At the opposite end of the naval hierarchy were two small but private rooms for the commanding officer and his second-in-command.  Luxurious compared to the enlisted men’s quarters, these rooms reflected the levels of responsibility held by these men, a common feature of both military and commercial vessels:

These rooms featured a small sitting spot with reasonably clear windows:

And the Boston skyline was reasonably clear through one of them:

Between these extremes of accommodation were positioned the commissioned officers’ wardroom and the enlisted crewmen’s chow hall.  Both were simple affairs, although the officers’ was larger, slightly more private, and flanked by individual cubicles for sleeping.  All these spaces, whether for the officers, the crew, or the guns, were immaculately and spotlessly clean, as was the exterior main deck.  The Constitution was obviously a very well-maintained ship.

As departure time approached, Michael and I went topside again.  The tugboat Harold A. Reinauer came alongside the Constitution and was made fast amidships on the starboard side.  The Harold would tow the Constitution “on the hip” throughout her short voyage across Boston Harbor and back.  By now it had become quite hot on the main deck with the temperature in the mid-90s.  Departure was postponed while several passengers who couldn’t bear the heat went ashore to seek relief.  After this, several crewmen circulated among the older guests and inquired about their health.  I guess I looked like a tired old man because a few of these young fellows asked me, “Are you all right, sir?  Do you feel okay, sir?”  I thanked them for their concern and assured them that I felt fine.  Finally, about 10:35am, the Harold gently eased the Constitution away from the dock, and we were underway.

Propelled by the Harold, the Constitution took a direct route from Charlestown past the North End, Downtown, East Boston, and Logan Airport toward Castle Island.  She was accompanied by a fleet of Navy, Coast Guard, and police escort vessels.  No doubt intended to prevent a terrorist attack, several of these boats featured deck-mounted machine guns with crewmen at the ready.  Michael found this one just off the Constitution’s port side:

In addition to these precautions, all landings and take-offs at Logan Airport were suspended while the Constitution was in the vicinity of the runways, and a police helicopter circled the ship overhead.  More peaceful to contemplate, though, was this view over the Harold’s deck of Downtown Boston that Michael took from the Constitution’s starboard side:

Continuing past Downtown, the Constitution sailed past the modern-day cruise ship terminal and container ship docks of the Seaport District, neither of which was particularly photogenic.  Beyond this industrial neighborhood lay the Constitution’s destination.

Fort Independence sits on Castle Island.  This is not actually an island but a peninsula at the easternmost end of South Boston, a site critical to the defense of Boston Harbor long ago.  A large crowd of spectators filled the park adjacent to the fort, braving the intense heat to watch the ship and await the fireworks.  The Harold maneuvered the Constitution into position.  Several crewmen distributed ear protection to the passengers.  Then the cannons roared and billowed white smoke as the Constitution rendered a 21-gun salute in recognition of the 250^th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence.  After the noise and smoke subsided, everyone on board cheered.

It was now time to return to Charlestown.  The Harold eased the Constitution back through the harbor, past Logan Airport and the Seaport District once again.  Two large cruise ships were moored at the Black Falcon Terminal, and we supposed the passengers on these vessels were enjoying a fantastic view as the Constitution slowly passed in front of them.  At several spots along the shore, additional groups of spectators endured the extreme heat and watched the ship go by.  After a little while, when the Constitution had safely moved away from the runways, landings and take-offs resumed at Logan Airport.

As the ship passed Downtown and the North End again, Michael and I noted several landmarks that held special significance in our family history.  Chief among these were the steeple of the Old North Church, an icon of the North End and the site of Michael’s graduation at the completion of his program at the North Bennet Street School in 2013, and the Coast Guard facility on Commercial Street, the place where I had taken the exams for and received my Merchant Marine license as limited master and unlimited chief mate in 1984.  So long ago now!  As the Constitution came abeam of the Coast Guard docks, a contingent of naval officers gathered on the main deck and saluted as a cannon was fired and military honors were rendered by the Navy unto the Coast Guard.

Taking pictures of such events aboard the Constitution proved difficult because the ship was so crowded.  Hundreds of people occupied deck space that had never been designed for passengers and sightseers.  Nonetheless, we emerged with a few good shots, including one of the North End skyline that shows how the neighborhood has burgeoned since Michael’s school years there:

Michael also captured this dramatic upward-looking view of the foremast and its associated rigging, the part of the ship that had impressed me the most when we first stepped aboard:

And as Michael had studied wood working at North Bennet Street, it seemed only fitting that he would discover this wood-carved Navy emblem:

With the Constitution now approaching her dock in Charlestown, the Harold gently turned her around and then eased her stern first into the mooring basin and with her port side to the wharf.  Getting the ship into position, putting out the mooring lines, and placing the gangway were time-consuming processes.  We rested in the shade and comparative cool of the gun deck during this evolution.  Many passengers, however, seemed anxious to return ashore, and they huddled in the heat at the gangway area.  About 1:10pm, after approximately two hours and thirty-five minutes of underway time, we were free to go ashore.  As we stepped onto the dock, a crewman presented us with certificates that testified of our having made this short but unique voyage:

I must give credit to all the military personnel, both aboard the Constitution and shoreside.  They were consistently and unfailingly professional—polite, courteous, welcoming, friendly, and perhaps most importantly, showing compassion and concern for guests experiencing difficulty with the heat.

Ashore now under a partly cloudy sky and with a fresh breeze that gave some relief from the heat, we paused to take a few more pictures of the Constitution, one of which I found somewhat distinctive:

In the Navy Yard gift shop, however, I found a much better likeness, appropriately an antiqued portrait of an antique ship:

Finally, I think it appropriate to recollect that when the Constitution was built in the 1790s, her namesake Constitution was as yet a largely untried and unproven document.  Founded on a combination of Christian principles and Enlightenment philosophical ideals, the Constitution has by now withstood the test of time, despite having been disregarded and contradicted by some government officials who had taken an oath to uphold and defend it.  Tragically, such crime continues in our day, and it contravenes the appeal to moral integrity set forth by Katherine Lee Bates in the hymn “America the Beautiful:”

Confirm thy soul in self-control,

Thy liberty in law.

Such political crime also ignores the scriptural assertion that the

law of the land which is constitutional, supporting that principle of freedom in maintaining rights and privileges, belongs to all mankind, and is justifiable before me (D&C 98:5).

Sacred scripture speaks further of

the laws and constitution of the people, which I have suffered to be established, and should be maintained for the rights and protection of all flesh, according to just and holy principles (D&C 101:77).

With these thoughts in mind, I am very thankful for the unexpected but golden opportunity that I received from my son James to sail aboard the Constitution on her annual Independence Day cruise with my son Michael, and I most certainly appreciate the high ethical standards that inspired the establishment of the original Constitution.