On piping while sailing

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.  

On genius in piping

Albert Einstein once said: “Genius is 1% talent and 99% percent hard work.”

As I start the New Year, I have been thinking of Einstein’s quote as it applies to playing and performing. Every piper looks at friends who play their instruments ‘better’, performers who excel in giving ‘enviable’ renditions of music, and listen to ‘amazing’ recordings of professionals. It’s easy to sigh, compare ourselves to them and wish, “If only I could sound that good.” There are those rare individuals who have a natural talent, whose brains are wired for bagpipe music, whose fingers just seem to naturally fly without a squeak or squawk when they play. I say, may God bless those with such capabilities, for they inspire the rest of us mere mortals.

We have a choice. Choose to work harder, work smarter and perfect our musicianship, or remain at the level we are. We may never attain ‘their’ level of playing, but no one can stop us from improving and progressing in our own abilities. One of the Winter Olympics snowboarders remarked that she approaches life fully engaged in her sport, and what she said rings true with me, to “Live life without regret.” I’ll apply that to piping as well embracing doing the best with the time and talents God have given me to bless others.

This year I choose to do the work, choose to practice and choose to perfect technique and musicianship. I’ve questioned friends and acquaintances as to how long they practice; how hard they practice. Their responses range from 20 minutes per day (most days) to every waking moment when they are not in school or working. The key takeaway: practice (a lot). Some each day is better than nothing. I keep my practice chanter in the front seat of my car, along with music. I work on tunes, 8 bars at a time, one stop light at a time on commute to and from work; to and from the store or school. I also work on my chanter perfecting tunes 20 minutes at a time at lunch, or spend 20 minutes playing the pipes. My goal is always the same: use the time wisely to play the music correctly, then practice to memorize a tune, or perfect a tune’s musicality and finally transition tunes to the pipes.

I’m taking a thirty day challenge. Choose an area in need of help… maybe D-throws. Start every practice with playing D-Throws up and down the scale. Clearly hear the low D. Don’t rush, but play every combination up the scale then down, then do your best to randomly play D-throws. You get the picture. Pick what you need to work on (taorluath, grips, birl, tachums, etc.) and in thirty days see how you’ve improved as you play. Then repeat another thirty days, reinforcing that D-throw, but adding another movement. I will be working on perfecting band tunes, especially competition tune sets, perfecting the parade set and playing and perfecting my WUSPBA grade 3 competitions MSR, as well keeping up on repertoire for piping at other events.

So if Einstein had been a piper (he did play the violin competently, so historians tell us) he probably would have written a similar equation to his quote above for practice: practice daily, rain or shine, don’t do the same thing expecting different results, practice technique until you are playing correctly then work on speed and memorization, and, play for the love of the instrument you’ve chosen. …and never give up.