When a loved one passes
away, we celebrate and mourn. Such occasions are a mix of joy in celebrating
the life of the deceased and a strong sense of loss for a cherished loved one
now gone. I get that, having lost parents over the past few years. Several months
back I was honored to play for a marvelous family whose deceased father and
husband had requested that his cremated ashes be scattered at sea and that
there be bagpipes. He’d been an avid
sportsman and sailor having traveled with his wife to many countries including
Scotland. The family, their friends and I rendezvoused on the dock at a San
Francisco yacht club.
We all dressed warmly for
a crisp clear March day. Dressed in kilt, Argyll jacket and vest, white shirt
and tie, and glengarry, I also made sure to wear sport shorts so as not to
worry about wind accidentally revealing too much. I casually mentioned it to the
host is case someone was a wee bit worried about what might be under a
Scotsman’s kilt. ;-) Onboard the family friend’s 40 ft. sailboat, I added a
light weight self-inflating life vest, as I would be standing on deck. Using a
self-inflating vest is less bulky and much more comfortable than what one
thinks of with a ‘normal’ bulky life vest. For any day of playing one should
always ‘be prepared.’ I tuned before arriving at the dock, away from my potential clients' hearing. I also brought sunscreen (pre-applied), and, black cording and
safety pins to attach my glengarry to my jacket in case the wind blew it off
while playing. The same goes with sun glasses having a strap in case they fall
off. A side note. I almost never play a gig while wearing sun glasses. But,
playing aboard a boat may be that one exception. The exposure to the sun and
glare from the water makes wearing glasses acceptable if done with prior permission
from my host. Once aboard, I stowed my extra gear and pipe bag below deck, then
struck up a march-medley on the foredeck as family and friends boarded.
We cast off from our slip
and were in the Bay in little time. While exiting port, I stayed quietly seated
so the boat’s skipper could both see and hear as the boat was leaving harbor.
Then, with permission from the skipper, I stood, feet and back firmly braced
against cabin, deck and second jib fore-stay, I played a 15 to 20 minute set as
we sailed under the Bay Bridge, past the Embarcadero, past Pier 39 and out into
the Bay toward the Golden Gate. I don’t know how far my music traveled with the
slight head wind we were motoring into, but I do believe the family enjoyed the
set. After a break, we’d passed under
the Golden Gate Bridge and were traveling outbound into the Pacific Ocean. There
also a level of anticipation for events to follow, even as we looked up to the
bridge far above us and heard the cars traveling across. Many of those aboard
had not been out of the Golden Gate aboard any vessel and were thrilled to be
experiencing such. It reminded me of my own family’s sail out the Gate in order
to scatter my grandmother’s ashes at sea aboard my Dad’s sailboat.
There is a quiet dignity
in performing a time honored ritual such as we experienced that day. The
weather cooperated for the family I was piping for, with a light breeze and
gentle swell on the ocean. We were able to motor to nearly a stop to scatter
the Dad’s ashes and flowers in solemn tribute. Additionally, a wreath of
flowers was laid on the water as the boat gently turned in a slow circle; I
played Amazing Grace and Going Home twice through. A moment of silence was then
observed. I broke the silence (pre-planned) with the tunes Flower of Scotland
into Green Hills of Tyrol and Scotland the Brave.
As we motored back into
the Bay, we had a light picnic lunch (me included, although I very rarely eat
during a service). The family popped champagne toasting the Dad’s full loving
life. As we traveled past the Embarcadero, I struck in my pipes for a medley of
tunes on the fore-deck and played until we reached harbor. After the yacht was
docked, my life jacket off, I jumped to the dock and piped the family and friends
ashore. It had been a stirring, emotional day for all involved. Having said my
farewells to the family I headed home thinking of the beautiful day spent with
a family in mourning and celebration, and of my own loved ones now departed.