This is a technical post just for reference, and hopefully to help out any others who have had this problem.
Several months ago, many PCs on which I have Cygwin’s SSHD installed refused to let me in. The symptom: when logging in, either remotely or from localhost, my password would be accepted and I’d see the MOTD, but then without ceremony, I’d be logged out without ever seeing a command prompt or an error. On the server’s windows event log, I saw “operation not permitted.”
After thrashing about for a really long time (months!) I finally hit upon the solution.
First, the problem: it’s something the IT people at work did to my systems. Every PC presenting this problem had previously worked just fine until some IT department update, after which they all stopped working. The IT help desk was of no help whatsoever; a problem has to be incredibly obvious before they notice it. On every PC without the security package, sshd continued to work fine. I used the same installer for every single PC, so my setup and config was the same – it was something my IT people did that broke it.
Fortunately, there is a way to modify the system to allow it to work again. I don’t know if it will work in every instance, but in my case, the default owner of a specific directory was at fault, but I couldn’t see this because of the rather cryptic way that cygwin sshd messages are logged by default.
The solution: Change the owner of the directory, and also put sshd log messages in a unix-y place where you can read them from the command line. Here’s the proceedure:
- Setup cygwin’s sshd normally by invoking: ssh-host-config -y (If you have been thrashing about trying to solve this problem and have changed permissions and config files, just run the script again to ensure that your setup is reasonable)
- DON’T START sshd.
- Issue “chown SYSTEM /var/empty”
- Uninstall the default sshd service by invoking: cygrunsrv –remove sshd
- Reinstall the service and make the sshd output go to /var/log/sshd.log by invoking: cygrunsrv -I sshd -d “Cygwin sshd” -p /usr/sbin/sshd -a ‘-D -e’
I hope this works for you.No comments
Very cool. I feel bad for the ants though!No comments
Just before taking off for home, I stopped by to visit with my sister in Pennsylvania again, and we got out for a quick walk through the countryside (on a Land Conservancy property near Newtown Square).
Then it was off for another flight across the country.No comments
On the east coast for business, once again I made sure to roll through Philly to visit with family. For me, “family” includes the Gazela, a ship on which I have been crew for nearly 20 years. I usually don’t get to sail any more, living so far away, but today was special. We conducted a practice sail between the Ben Franklin and Walt Whitman bridges. It was a delightful afternoon, with a fine breeze perfect for sailing, not too much river traffic, and lots of sun.
We motored out into the enormous Delaware, but soon raised some jibs. That’s the battleship “New Jersey” in the background.
Next we raised the lower and upper main square sails.
In the next image it looks like we’re standing on the yard (large wooden horizontal mast-like wood) at bottom, but that is an illusion. In actuality, crew stands on the footrope – the unoccupied lower main topsail yard’s footrope, a heavy black line, can be seen at the bottom of this picture.
In unison, we lean forward – throwing our feet back as our bellies form a pivot point on top of the yard – and grab a “flake” (fold) of sail. We haul it up, lean backwards – and, holding on to the sail, which is what prevents us from falling – stand upright, then fold the flake on to the top of the yard. Leaning on the folded flake with our bellies, this operation is performed multiple times until the entire sail has been hauled up and folded, accordion-style, on top of the yard, at which point it’s tied with short ropes named “gaskets.”
Here is a rare image with me actually in it. We’re furling the jibs – sails attached to the boom, or mast that points from the bow (front) end of the ship. It’s one of my favorite places, because you can watch water part around the bow while the ship moves through the water, and at sea, sometimes there are dolphins or pilot whales (which are like big black dolphins) playing in the bow wave.
The Philadelphia skyline seen from mid-river. If you enlarge this image you can see a tall ship named “Moshulu” which used to haul grain around the horn. In fact, it was the last wind-powered ship to commercially travel between Europe and Australia, as well as the orient and the US, and several books were written about it. Now it doesn’t sail; its rigging is nice-looking but for show only, and it is a fancy restaurant that never moves. But I love that Philadelphia has this amazing ship. To its right, which a white hull and saffron superstructure, is the Olympia, the original gunboat of the phrase “gunboat diplomacy.” It is the ship from which Admiral Dewey said the famous line “You may fire when you are ready, Gridley,” which launched the crucial naval battle of the Spanish-American war. Harder to see in this picture in the Becuna, a decorated WWII submarine. Across the river in Camden, NJ, and shown in another picture in this post, is the WWII battleship New Jersey.
Since there are so many other historic vessels I should mention that the Gazela may be the oldest wooden sailing vessel afloat in the US, and one of the oldest in the world. Built in Portugal in1883 (although extensively refitted in 1901), she is still sailed up and down the east coast, not as a pleasure vessel, but as a living school to preserve the skills of the era of sail.
I’ve included a variety of images in the gallery below; click to enlarge.
Our first trip to Blue Ridge was a scouting mission for a larger trip which we just completed. It was a logistical giant, but we pulled it off: 15-20 people converged over hundreds of miles and were rowed or ferried to the campsite about 3 miles from the boat launch. The weather was perfect, not storming until the last hour when a few of us were still rowing back. Kids, dogs, and adults all had fun; every night was a party; good food, conversation, and company was the rule. The Perseid meteor showers were ramping up, so at night we lay back and stared at the immensity of the cosmos – so clear at this altitude – and watched meteors streak across the milky way. During the perfect days we clambered down the sandstone cliff of our castle-like isolated campsite and swam in the emerald waters. We saw western Grebes and Pelicans – odd birds at this location!
Click on any image to enlarge it.
Me & a few Flagstaff friends whipped up a quick car-camping trip to the Blue Ridge reservoir. Incredibly, on a Saturday afternoon there was a single spot open at the Rock Crossing campground, although if it had been full, we could easily have camped nearby in the woods, which is permitted west of the campground. There is also another nearby place, the Blue Ridge campground. We ate great camp food, had a nice fire, woke up early and went kayaking. It poured on us during the evening, but we were ready, and stayed cozy, playing games and talking.The dogs were afraid though, poor things.
For my friends that don’t know about this part of Arizona, here is what it looks like: no cactus here! The water echoed with the cries of Osprey and herons; duck hens led flotillas of hyper-kinetic chicks and trout jumped out of the water to catch dragonflies. We paddled down the narrow reservoir for a couple of miles, surveying camping spots for next time.
On the way home, I stopped to take pictures of the infinite field of flowers south of Mormon lake, which has a great view of the San Francisco peaks. There was an infinite number of grasshoppers to go along with the flowers, and also there were clouds of butterflies and harmless bees. The weather was gentle, the wind slow, and there was almost no sound except distant thunder. It was like a scene in a movie where a character goes to heaven.
The dog was overjoyed. I knew how he felt!
Here is one of the legion of grasshoppers, which rose up in a cloud around me as I walked on the flower-covered dry lakebed. The seldom touched me; it was like being in a school of fish.
Here is a link with photos taken by others on this trip.2 comments
Earlier this year I went on a small outing on the Arizona trail on the north side of the San Francisco peaks. Of course, I took my dog with me. This area is just south of the lower parking lot of the Snow Bowl, about 20 minutes outside of downtown.
Like all dogs, Tycho can’t pass up a good opportunity to roll in unmentionable substances… nothing makes him happier.2 comments
While on the east coast working at Hopkins, I took a day to visit my sister and work on the Gazela, on which I have crewed for 20 years or so. Of course, since I no longer live on the east coast, I don’t get many opportunities to visit the ship, so I do what I can, showing up a few times a year and putting in some ship’s work. There is always something to be done on a ship. It is comforting how some things change very little over time; the ship is much older than me (1883) and with luck, it will be around long after I’m gone.
The ship is going to sail into Atlantic blue water this year, but alas, I won’t be on it. Maybe next year.
The ship is moored in its usual place on the Delaware at Penn’s landing in Philadelphia. That’s the Ben Franklin bridge in the background.
Nearby are the ship guild’s other possessions, the barge “Poplar” which serves as our workshop and chandlery, and the 1902 riveted iron-hulled tug “Jupiter.”
Here is some detail showing how the hull plates are riveted together. The tug was made long before welding was commercially possible.
Here’s a view of the tug’s wheelhouse, looking aft. You can see the captain’s berth close by; he has to be ready at a moment’s notice, at any time.
Across the river is Camden, NJ. It has its problems, but there are numerous interesting things to see there. Slightly south is the battleship NJ.
Directly across the river is the old RCA-Victor building with its classic stained-glass window of the dog looking into the Victrola:
On this day, I helped to bring down the winter canopy that is always erected over the deck to allow work to continue while the ship overwinters; we struck it down and store the timbers below deck on the Poplar. We also rigged the visitor gangway. Meanwhile, one of the carpenters worked on the quarterdeck timbers.
The work done for the day, some crew relax amidst the freshly oiled spars sitting about the deck.No comments