Cutty Sark damaged by fire, and musings on historical sites

Back on May 21, one of the most famous historical ships in the world was extensively damaged by fire. Via The Queen and The Duke of Edinburgh visit Greenwich, 22 May 2007 (Royal Insight magazine, May 2007), here's a link to a page with instructions on how to make a donation to the Cutty Sark restoration efforts if you'd like. (I assume I can't be the only person with a soft spot in my heart for tea clippers? Especially this one?)

The Cutty Sark Trust's home page is here.

As it happens, I identify somewhat with the people who have been lovingly tending the Cutty Sark. Many years ago, I traveled a few hundred miles away from home and dedicated a summer to helping restore a wonderful old opera house that had fallen on hard times. I helped put on stage shows to raise money. I worked backstage, onstage, out in the community. I polished brass. I scrubbed. I swept. I rounded up volunteers and supervised them. I talked to service clubs, luncheon parties, whoever would have me. I bought ads, sold tickets, helped organize a parade, soothed temperamental egos, reassured superstitious ones, met with community leaders. I wasn't the head of the project by any means, but I threw my heart into it. (Side note: Teaching sign language to kids in a cast is a useful way of keeping backstage quieter when enthusiasm and nerves are near bursting in a couple dozen people at once.)

I had taken the job merely as a job, more or less, with the added spice and challenge of getting to work in summer stock theater, which I thought would be a hoot. But, quite unexpectedly, I fell in love with that theater. I was highly enough placed that I had a key, and sometimes at night I'd let myself in and stand on the stage and let my imagination wander over who else had stood on those boards, and what they might have sung, danced, said, acted, felt, done. There was magic there. If you've never been on stage I'm not sure you can understand, not really. (I don't think I could have, at any rate.) And if you've never been on a stage graced by greats I'm not sure I can explain that to you, either. It's humbling, but huge, all at the same time.

I hesitate to say there were ghosts onstage with me, because I don't mean it the way some people mean it. I don't mean actual departed individuals in spirit form, not by any means. But all the same, it was impossible to work there and not feel the past, and feel connected to people long dead, to feel that they had, somehow, left something behind that had become part of the place. Something invisible, but real. That much, I think, is true of many truly historic places. (Mark Mossa touched on something similar, I think, when he posted a comment here about walking past an admired author's house.)

But. A few months after I left, the opera house burned down. I couldn't help thinking that it wasn't just a building that was destroyed, but, to some degree, in some fashion, lingering shadows of the people who'd been in her, too. That's crazy, perhaps. But there it is. There are reasons some people pause at historical spots. Reasons beyond mere curiosity (although I have nothing against mere historical curiosity).

I have no doubt that many of the people who have been preserving the Cutty Sark know what I'm talking about. I'm sure they've felt the presence of the past. I'm sure they know what's it's like to feel that you've been handed a responsibility to help keep one specific part of it properly tended, if you want to put it that way. And so I can't help wishing that they'd been spared this grief, because I know it is grief, not the same as for human beings, of course, but real grief all the same.

I'm not always sure, when something is largely destroyed, how much you can rebuild it and call it what it was. To be honest, I looked at the photo at the Royal Insight site, and thought perhaps the Cutty Sark was lost, and in future we'd have to settle for a replica. Replicas have their place, of course, but...

But then I read this:

Statement From Richard Doughty, Chief Executive, Cutty Sark Trust

21st May 2007 - A fire broke out this morning at 4.45am this morning at the Cutty Sark in Greenwich,which was put out by the London Fire Brigade by 06.28am. The ship was undergoing a major conservation project and everyone involved in the project is devastated. It was a quarter of the way through and so much work has already been carried out. However, 50% of the ship had been removed for conservation reasons,including the masts,the coach house and significant amount of planking,so it could have been a lot worse.

We know that there is major damage to the tween decking and some of the ship ’s iron work has buckled but we have yet to assess the full extent of the damage.

When the original fabric of the ship is lost, the touch of the craftsman is lost, history is lost. To lose the timbers and iron frame of the ship is to lose not just maritime heritage but part of our national heritage. We must save as much as we can and hopefully the fire has left us much to still conserve.

This is a significant blow for us,and a major set back to the people working on the project. It will take us a significant amount of effort and funding to get the work back on track.£25m pounds was needed to preserve the ship; we had £18m pounds raised already and now we are appealing for help close the funding gap and to get us through the crisis and return the ship to its former glory.

One thing is certain - we will now redouble our efforts to save the world ’s most famous clipper ship.It has been rescued twice before,in 1922 and 1953 – this will be third time lucky. Now more than ever the Cutty Sark needs support from all her friends across the world...

Now, let me be the first to say that historical preservation people sometimes (often) get rabid, and trample on the rights of other people (or get government to trample on other people for them), for which I don't think they have any good excuse, regardless of the project. But, according to the website, the Cutty Sark Trust is "an independent charity which owns and runs the sole surviving tea clipper." From that, and what I've seen so far browsing around their website, this group appears, at first glance at any rate, to be a happy exception to that stereotype. (I certainly hope so. I am not an ends justifies the means person.)

For more on Cutty Sark's history, and on collections held in trust by its museum, start here. (For navigational instruments, go here. I'm fascinated by old instruments, aren't you?)

Here's wishing the restorers the best of luck as they move forward on this. Here's hoping the spirit of the old ship still lingers.