Finally the weather looked good,
sunny and clawing toward 80 degrees at long last.
There was the usual summer forecast of “showers and
thunderstorms in the afternoon,” but we haven’t seen
summer yet – even though it’s the Fourth of July.
I got Chip Ahoy at least launched
last week, Friday. I went out to it on its mooring
on Saturday to finalize all the rigging. That was
the last I saw of it but from a distance. I almost
liked it better when it was sitting on the trailer
in front of my house.
But it’s been a miserable, rainy, raw
spring-into-summer and I’m glad it’s at least out
there where it belongs, even if for only the
season’s four or so months.
Today was the big one – the first
sail of Season ‘09. Oh sure, there were still a few
tweaks that needed to be done but I knew when the
launch was taking me out to it, it was pretty much
ready to sail.
The weather forecast called for
mostly sunny, maybe with any luck reaching 80, wind
from the WSW at 10-12, reaching to 18 with gusts to
25 mph. Hmm, a bit more than I’d like for the annual
shake down sail but nothing unmanageable.
Aboard, I walked around looking for
anything I might have overlooked. On the mooring I
hoisted the main sail. Fine. I unfurled the genoa;
seemed okay but later needs a few more turns on the
roller-furler. Everything else seemed ship-shape;
Chip Ahoy and I were ready to go within an hour and
off we went. Oh what a great moment when that
mooring bouy is dropped for the first time in a
season, we’re free.
I know Salem Harbor, so headed out to
the channel between Misery and Bakers Islands – my
stomping grounds. Today’s goal was to round Misery
and see where things go from there, how everything's
working. Getting back in against the wind would be
somewhat of a challenge.
Little did I know how much.
Everything was going well in the
beginning, until the sails were flying and I turned
to shut off the motor. Motor off, can’t tilt. I
always shut off the motor, tilt it, then lift it up
out of the ocean. Can’t tilt. Damn, what’s this all
about? Screw it, lift and sail!
So I scud straight through the
channel cooking at about 5 knots – guestimate as the
brand new Garmin GPSMap 478 isn’t doing what I
expect – got out my handheld GPSMap 76CS, it's
telling me where I am for sure. I’m diddling now
with the 478 and getting nowhere. I’m going to have
to call Garmin but I’m out here and on my own, with
the trusty little 76CS thankfully.
Tweaking along the way, I soon guide
Chip Ahoy through the channel between Misery and
Bakers Islands – the Atlantic beyond. This is where
you touch the open ocean; an entirely different
sailing environment in zero to sixty.
All is going well, very well. What a
first day under sail – it doesn’t get any better!
I round the lee of Misery Island,
play the winds back there between it and Sauli Rock
downwind, meander to the more windward side of the
island. Everything is as expected, done this before.
I come around the point, the cove
with its multitude of holiday boaters anchored, and
into the wind. Now here’s where it gets . . . funny
. . .
My plan – as I saw it shortly ago –
was to come around Misery Island into the wind and
cross to Bakers Island, come home along Eagle
Island. That was my plan.
Rounding Misery’s leeward side I
became entangled in a tacking battle with myself; I
was making nothing despite my efforts. I had to jibe
twice as I got too close to the rocks. I’ve never
seen anything like this before. Thanks goodness for
jibing!
Until at last I caught a lobster pot
buoy – where the hell did that one pop up from?!?
How many thousands have I dodged in the past?!? So
what, this one got me.
I got a couple of young guys in a
nearby Whaler out with their kids to dive on it,
gave them the mask – and knife. A couple beers
handed over as reward and I was free again.
Whew, skated that and was headed home
. . .
And that’s when I heard the voice.
Listen for the voices . . .
Geez, I’m clawing off the island, all
my attention is into all my attention.
And I’m going to try walking you
through this, because it’s so important that I do .
. .
There I was, busting gut tacking
relentlessly – and I hear a voice . . .
I hear a voice ???
Damn – I heard a voice and ignored it
the first time!
I heard it a second time while
wrestling with Chip Ahoy . . .
I heard a voice a second time . . . !
I heard a voice, dammit!
I looked – and there was a frigging
kid, a kid’s head anyway with a life vest collar . .
. is this for real?!? Two more bobbing
beyond, at a distance . . . a collapsed cheap
inflatable being blown away.
Wow – wow – stand-down, relax,
take a breath, you know what to do. Do it, Ford!
I cut over to him/them, dumped the
bungie on my boarding ladder (gone forever, one
time) and dropped it, lulffed sails as I started the
outboard, freed my throwable ring, and called a
“Securite” to the Coast Guard (Gloucester Station,
not far off). They asked and I provided longitude
and latitude for the position. I reached the kids just as another
small power boat arrived on scene too. "How many are
with you, how many friends?" I shouted to the closet
kid. There were just the three of them he assured
as the skipper from the other boat lifted him onto
the swim platform.
Good that the other boat was there and reacting
too.
He “rescued” them, when I couldn’t tilt – or raise –
my motor, had to kill it to avoid injuring anyone in
the water.
Geez – I heard a voice out in the
middle of the ocean . . .
. . . that didn’t belong there . . .
. . . and decided to look . . .
So all’s well – sheesh, the kids are
safe – and now I’m floating motorless. The Coast
Guard is following the situation, is in contact with
me. I assure them I’m alright, TowUSA (do I have
that right?) shows up alongside, asks if I have a
good insurance policy ($250-$300 if I need help, I’m
told), and – I’ll give him credit, he hangs around
along enough to learn whether I want help or not. I
don't, get the motor running.
He and I got along well. He agreed
that “No good deed goes unpunished”! Then he had to
race off to another emergency, this one on the other
side of Misery Island, six POB a boat taking on
water. I assured him I'd be all set, wouldn't need
his assistance.
Okay, I’ve had enough. The motor is
running, I’ve dropped sail – sort of, more or less.
My mainsail downhaul line is now suddenly, somehow,
wrapped around the steaming light up on the
mast, won’t
free up so I can drop the main all the way. Oh dear
God, what next . . . ?
Out on Salem Sound I
wrestle down the main sail regardless. I’ll worry
about the details later . . .
Half an hour or so later, back in the
mooring area, I spot my mooring – the one with the
red streamers flying from its pickup stick – first
time I’ve had to find it this season and made sure
that I could. Oh baby, despite the 18 mph wind
coming up on it
was perfect – but by a few degrees, miss grabbing it
by inches. No big thing,
I’ll go around again. Bang, nailed the outboard’s
prop on another nearby mooring line.
Finally untangled with a little help
from a launch driver, I get to my mooring and secure
the boat. When I try to lift the outboard, the
handle bends and breaks off. I wrestle the heavy
motor up nonetheless, get it tilted, pulling muscles
in my ribs. Whew, take a deep breath, relax for a few
minutes, then close up the boat. It's time to call
this one a day. A little blood, a tangled line,
lobster pot buoy and mooring line entanglements, the
outboard needs a replacement handle, my left side
hurts -- all in all,
Chip Ahoy and I have made it back from another
adventure, overcame a few unexpected challenges.
