Tonight on New Hampshire Crossroads, we spend the day aboard the schooner Roseway out of Camden, Maine, for the Great Schooner Race.

Then meet a woman from Gorham whose folk art is a celebration of her life in the northern woods of New England.

And we'll visit with Devonsquare, a unique folk music trio that's gathering a national reputation.

Softly through the night cause you're walking on ice Hi, I'm Fritz Wetherbee, and this is New Hampshire Crossroads.

Theme Music Presentation of New Hampshire Crossroads is made possible by grants from Shaw’s Supermarkets, providing quality and service in all their stores located in Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island.

First NH Banks, serving the financial needs of individuals, corporations, and local governments throughout New Hampshire.

Continental Cablevision, providing quality cable service and community programing throughout New Hampshire.

And the Union Leader Corporation, publisher of New Hampshire's statewide newspapers.

We're right for New Hampshire.

Today we're in Nashua at the Pheasant Lane Mall in front of an activities tent called kaleidoscope .

And this is sponsored by Bank East and by the Hallmark Greeting Card Company.

And what it is is a place where kids ages 6 to 12 can come and do crafts.

And yes, it's open to the general public, and I'll tell you the days and the times before the program is over.

Last month, New Hampshire Crossroads was invited to spend the day aboard the beautiful windjammer Roseway for the Great Schooner Races, which started in North Haven, Maine.

Now, this was an offer that we could not refuse.

And besides, where else do you see a race that starts with a cannon blast?

Music (cannon blast) (ropes pulled through pulleys) Comin’ through.

(creaking sounds) Heave, heave, heave.

Heave, heave, heave.

Hold back!

All right.

Haul away.

Hold the pick, hold the pick.

Drop it.

Okay.

Walk it to me.

Keep walking.

Okay.

Drop the line.

All right.

Good job (inaudible).

(no dialogue) Okay, Ernie!

Jumbo hellion.

Guys, jumbo hellion.

Once the main’s hauled up.

Haul up.

Okay.

One more.

Two.

Three.

Heave.

(no dialogue) Max, watch the sheet over there on the jib.

This is, like, the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life.

(inaudible) (no dialogue) Well, the Roseway was built originally as a yacht for a New Bedford businessman in 1925.

He wanted a vessel that could be used for sport fishing and so he went to Gloucester, which was, of course, the home of the fishing schooners in those days, and he got himself a real handsome vessel made.

The Boston Pilots ran her until 1973.

And she was then purchased by Jim Sharp and Orvil Young from Camden, who brought her here and put her into the windjammer trade.

So she's been sailing and working all of her life.

Is 64 years old now.

Picking up a pretty good northwesterly breeze right now, and there are storm warnings out this afternoon, so we've reduced our sail a little bit, taking our topsail in, and we may or may not finish the race.

We’re just gonna watch the weather here for a little bit and see what's happening.

Still can't beat the coast of Maine.

This is probably the best sailing we've had all week, though.

We've went , on 4th of July we did real well, and then we had a couple days of good Maine fog.

But that's part of it.

That's when you play cribbage and get to know people.

Hey, we just might win this thing, guys.

Music On belay.

To the top.

Music Up to check my furl.

85 feet above deck.

As far as the vessel’s concerned, and the crew and their willingness to teach you about it, it's just incredible.

The more questions you ask, the more you learn.

And it's up to you.

(wind blowing) You can be a deck potato, or you can learn one sail from another.

Oh dear, what can I tell you?

Super, absolutely super.

(wind blowing) (crew cheering, applauding) Pussers breed.

Give me your autograph.

Music They did make a change in the race because of the, because of the weather and, as we drop down to one mark and getting a little closer to that mark, it looked like there might be some weather on the horizon.

And I decided that I was not going to go to that point.

So I did tack and went to Rockland instead of going around.

So effectively, we did drop out of the race because of that.

But, that's the way it goes.

(wind blowing, pulley squeaking) Music I think the whole thing is that, it's what you make of it.

It really is.

That's it, flat out.

I used to stand on the on the dock in Camden and watch them go, and wondered what made them work.

Now I know.

As Captain George Sloan mentioned the 112 foot Roseway did drop out of the schooner races that day due to threatening weather, but that didn't mean the people aboard didn't have a great time.

The people aboard had a fabulous time.

Incidentally, if you'd like more information regarding these trips, just get in touch with Windjammer Cruises out of Rockland, Maine.

On a recent afternoon, we traveled over to Gorham, New Hampshire, and spent some time with a lady who is a mother and a grandmother and a poet and a painter.

Her name is Jackie Dumas, and her art is a celebration of a life spent in the north woods of Maine and New Hampshire.

The tale they tell of Joe Nazeem is one of great renown.

I've heard it time and time again where lumberjacks abound.

It seemed that his endurance was a marvel to behold.

No man could match his skill and speed, and none dared to be so bold.

He'd set out in the morning with a knapsack on his back.

He walked for miles around the woods, but never left a track.

His 20 cords of wood, he'd cut a’whistling all the while.

His strength was unbelievable.

His pace belied his stride.

For Joe, you see, with five feet tall and skinny as a broom.

But when he swung his mighty ax, the jacks all gave him room.

They still recall how one fine day old Joe had choked a Bruin who had nosed around his knapsack when Joe had been a’snoozing.

His appetite was bear-like.

He ate a dozen eggs, a pot of beans, some bacon, and even coffee dregs.

He'd go to bed at sundown and he’d snore all through the night, keeping all the men awake until the morning light.

Joe had a way with wildlife, they followed him about.

The mangy wolf, the bobcat, and the brown and speckled trout.

He loved the quiet forest, and here he'd kneel and pray that God would let him live to see another peaceful day.

No place on earth can quite compare with Kennebago air.

Joe got his wish.

He died in peace, and now he's buried there.

His tombstone is a golden oak beside a trickling stream.

The men go by and whisper, there lies Old Joe Nazeem.

When I was in school, for some reason, I don't know where all of this came from, but if something happened or somebody was having a birthday or something, instead of making a like a mother's day card or birthday card, I would write a little poem and give that to whoever, whether it was my mother or an aunt or something.

This is the way I started writing poetry.

I never studied poetry, I mean, iantic, pentameter, you name it, I wouldn't be able to describe it.

It's not that type of poetry.

It just comes, seems to come from inside.

This one is called Little Joe Batiste.

Batiste is a French name, and I throw that in quite often.

Now, Joe Batiste was a’walking the woods when he met a man with a gun.

The hunter said, good morning, Mr.

A fine day to hunt.

Have you had any luck?

Oh oui, said Batiste, I most certainly did.

I just shot me a big ten point buck.

Well, buck season opens tomorrow.

You know, you're in a heck of a mess.

And here is my bad young fella.

You're looking at Warden Fess.

Oh, my.

Do you know who I am, laughed Batiste.

The warden smiled and he stood still.

I'm the biggest gosh darn liar you'll find in these here hills.

Get in my truck, funny hunter.

We’ll pick up your buck near that tree, and the next time you shoot out of season, pray the warden ain't going to be me.

Now, as I told you, I’m like the comedians that laugh at their own jokes.

I read these and they tickle me for some reason, because I can just see this guy.

We were partridge hunters, the four of us.

My two sons and my husband and I. We lived in the town of Coburn Gore, Maine, which had 26 people.

We were right on the Canadian border.

We had a lumber company, and we all all loved to hunt and fish.

I've been writing poetry since young Paul got hurt.

He was very badly hurt when he was 14.

He lost his arm, his right arm, and he operated 31 times to save his left arm.

He was burned from his neck down to his feet.

So when Paul got hurt and he was in the hospital for months and months on end, I started writing humorous ballads and they were mostly on hunting and fishing and skiing, things that he enjoyed doing.

And the doctors and nurses were making copies of these poems and passing them around, and they suggested to me that it might be nice if I thought of publishing, which had never entered my mind.

So I thought about it seriously.

And then I decided I would talk to the people at Bath Hyde Home Rehabilitation Center, where Paul was, was going for therapy, and, they were interested.

And I said, I will pay to have the book published and we will see to it that the profits go to you.

So this is the way the books started.

And I have had four, and all of the money has gone to handicapped children, and I have another one in the making, which will also go to handicapped children.

This one is dedicated to my two sons, Paul Jr and Mark, and it's called To My Sons.

I sure do hate emergencies and unexpected company.

I don't like thunderstorms, you see, and plane trips really bother me.

I'm not a very special cook and I seldom finish any book.

I like to sit beside a stream and spin a super duper dream.

I once could run just like the wind and shoot the leaves from a tiny limb.

My cheeks were pink and my eyes were bright and I was up before daylight.

I was slim and trim as a racing filly.

I laughed a lot and it was quite silly.

I rocked you to sleep and waved goodbyes.

I held back my tears and broken sighs.

I drag my feet now and sleep a lot.

I wear warm clothes and arthritis, I've got.

But you think (inaudible), you know.

It's my heart overflowing because I love you so.

Next month, Jackie Dumas will be traveling to Washington, DC to accept the Golden Poet's Award, and you can visit with Jackie up at Mount Sunapee State Park this next week at the 56th Annual New Hampshire Craftsman's Fair, the oldest crafstman fair in the nation, which runs from this weekend through the 13th of this month.

And incidentally, I'm going to be up there as well.

We will be taping a half hour special, which we will show over New Hampshire Public Television this coming Thursday at 9:00 in the evening.

Our next story is about a folk trio called Devonsquare, and Devonsquare has been together singing and writing music for over ten years now, and even though they've developed a national reputation, they recently signed a record contract with Atlantic Records.

Nonetheless, their roots are firmly placed here in the state of New Hampshire.

Two of the members, Tom Dean and Alana McDonald, come from the Conway area, and the third member, who is Herb Ludwig, is a lawyer over in Portland, Maine.

And incidentally, the performance parts of this story were recorded right here in our studios at Channel 11.

So here they are.

Devonsquare One two.

Check.

One, two.

Check.

Yeah.

I'm not, I don't sound as good as they do.

I'm thinner and harsher.

Okay I that's a change I made out here.

I'll put it back.

Okay.

Check one two.

Check one two.

Right now.

Check one two.

That's better.

A John Berryman poem about, life is made up of less and less to walk out on farther and farther.

So, Tommy thought, remembered that line as I had mentioned it to the guys that I liked it a few years back.

Maybe, he said maybe it would be a nice image walking out on ice farther and farther with less, to less to walk out on.

So we kind of re-adapted.

What we were at that time looking for a direction in what we were doing.

We didn't we were in the middle of writing this album, and we didn't want to write one without direction.

And the song that Tommy came up with really sums up where we were headed.

So to that degree, the song was a real positive thing for us.

That's the one that we said, gee, I think we might see where we're going here.

Walking on ice You were walking on ice Sun lights the day, moon lights the night And of this you can be sure The things you love You hold so tight And keep them safe behind your door Watch out for cracks beneath your feet And step softly through the night Because you're walking on ice Yes, you're walking on ice Yes, you're walking on ice Hey, you're walking on ice Music Well I walked the world on thin ice And I walk out further and further on less and less Don't hesitate, don't think twice It's only ice It's only ice Watch out for cracks beneath your feet And step softly through the night Because you're walking on ice Yes, you're walking on ice Hey, you're walking on ice Yes, you're walking on ice Walking on ice, walking on ice No no no Music You feel compelled to say something with a little bit of a moral.

With a little bit of a, a lesson, something to be thought about.

I find in my writing, now, I I want to say something meaningful.

More so now than I did ten years ago.

I think writing itself, you sort of got off on writing the process.

Yeah.

Then after you do that for a while, then you start to look at what you're writing and say, well, what what does it really mean?

And then you go another level of awareness.

I think you have to be satisfied, or maybe a couple of levels.

It's a song for Nelson Mandela.

May he soon be free.

Music I can see the tears in the dust, I can see their eyes turn to rust But we must do what we must, to save Black Africa Black Africa Here you go.

Oo ay oo, oo ay oo, oo ay oo um Black Africa Oo ay oo, oo ay oo, oo ay oo, oo ay oo Oo ay I can feel the fire and the heat I can hear the thunder of feet See the people die in the streets To save Black Africa Black Africa, here you go.

Oo ay oo, oo ay oo Oo ay oo um Black Africa Oo ay oo, oo ay oo Oo ay oo, oo ay oo, oo ay No place like home.

I guess I had the original idea for that one.

And I, going to New York off and on, and seeing all the homeless people on the streets and under cardboard boxes and the horrible destitute sense of destitution that they- In my house too.

In Tom’s house, I don't I wasn't going to say that.

No, just kind of inspired that idea, and I thought it'd be a good idea to write a song about the homeless to to bring that out.

And so I threw together some lyrics, and it originally didn't work.

And then Herbie came up with the son of the sails theme, and we decided to combine them into a, a look at a number of ways to be homeless.

We are the homeless the quiet obscene Under these boxes, it’s a cold quarantine We are alone No shoes to tap three times To go back home To go back home Where do they go?

How do they sleep?

Where do they go?

The children of the day Son of the sail Water was my father Born in a gale In a hale of sons and daughters Children of the sea They were dying to be free Work of a lifetime Troubles in my head Winds of tomorrow Blowing devils in the sand Fire on the plains Is it ever gonna rain?

Where do they go?

How do they sleep?

Where do they go?

The children of the day Music Devonsquare estimates that they have written over 100 songs, and they have put out four albums.

Their latest one, on Atlantic, is due out in February.

And if you would like to see Devonsquare, you're going to have to travel some.

They will be appearing at the Old Vienna Coffeehouse in Westborough, Massachusetts on August the 26th.

Or you can wait till October the 27th, when they will be at the Merrimack Theater right here in Dover, New Hampshire.

Well, that's our show for this week, here from the Kaleidoscope Tent at the Pheasant Lane Mall down in Nashua.

And incidentally, this tent is open to the general public from nine in the morning to three in the afternoon between now and this coming Tuesday, which is the 8th.

Come early because the lines are very, very, very long.

So join us next week when we visit a very special circus and we find out why one ring is sometimes better than three.

Til then, for New Hampshire Crossroads, I’m Fritz Wetherbee.

What a good job you did.

Yes.

I did do a good job, didn’t I?

That was the first part.

Theme Music Presentation of New Hampshire Crossroads is made possible by grants from Shaw’s Supermarkets, providing quality and service in all their stores.

Located in Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island.

First NH Banks, serving the financial needs of individuals, corporations, and local governments throughout New Hampshire.

Continental Cablevision, providing quality cable service and community programing throughout New Hampshire.

And the Union Leader Corporation, publisher of New Hampshire's statewide newspapers.

We’re right for New Hampshire.

Theme Music