There were several open tables so I naturally chose the closest one. Still sleeping, I tried to move the chair far enough from under the table I could sit in it, but needed the help of a crew cut, bearded guy about half my age, to unstick it from the deck. He introduced himself, saying the owner had pointed me out as one of his crew. Turns out he was Captain Chris and he was the guy who would determine whither or not I could still manage a boat after an absence of more than 36 years. Great. What a terrific first impression I must have made.
After assuring him I usually had a better morning, we ordered and started to get to know one another. While we were eating, we were informed the flight carrying the other two members of the crew had been delayed and they were not expected for another couple of hours. No biggie, Chris and I just finished eating and then he presented me with the ASA 101 exam. It took another cup of coffee while I checked answers I hoped were correct.
Nothing wrong with my memory, I was easily able to recall the bow was at the front and the stern was in back. 100%, he said. Wow. I just got my ASA101 certificate, hung over and all! When one of the local stevedores heard the news, he helped me celebrate by carrying my sea bag to the boat. The five dollar tip he received helped a bit, I think. It worked for both of us; he carried the bag and I wrung the neck of what was left in the bottle that so brutally mistreated me the night before as I carried it to the boat.
No, that's not the boat we were to use on this voyage, it's just one I kinda want for my birthday and thought I needed to toss it in here somewhere. Our boat was a 44 foot Dufor Gib'Sea - the one on the left of the picture below - and my bag was placed with care in the stern cockpit.
The bottle I carried was casually tossed in on top of it.
Since it was my habit to sleep on deck during warm nights some three decades earlier, I selected one of the aft bunks to be closer to the companionway in case of rain at night. After stowing my gear, Chris gave me a tour of the boat and it's systems. There were some unfamiliar items; equipment has changed a bit in the last thirty some odd years, but mostly I was familiar with it. We settled in to wait for the rest of the crew and swapped lies.
After several more hours, our other crew mates arrived and climbed on board. Chris fired up the engine, we cast off the stern lines and were off! Not yet sailing, but at long last headed to sea. We had a 19 Kt wind at our back as we motored away from the dock so we made a quick escape to open waters. Fifteen minutes or so later we turned and headed into the wind to raise the mainsail.
Now, I must remind you readers of my claim to be familiar with most of the boats systems. Remember that? Well, one of the items on this boat that I did not have on the boat I called home for years was a lazyjack system to help manage the sails. My 26 footer from way back when didn't need them. The main on a boat that size is much easier to handle. So..............of course I clipped the halyard to the head of the sail before we left the dock without checking to see if it was clear of the lazywhatevers. Chris sort of chuckled while Joe tried his best to jump the main. Luckily, Sam had a decent view of what was happening and told him to stop. About this time I noticed we were almost back to the dock so I turned back downwind and headed away from the rocks - one more time.
A half gallon of diesel later we tried again. While on downwind Sam squared away the main halyard, Joe got back into position to jump, and I managed to get rid of my red face. I reversed course so the boat was headed into the wind, we FINALLY raised the mainsail, and turned back to sea. I brought the boat to a broad reach, we managed to get the jib up with no problem, and set our course for the island of Bequia, where we would spend our first night on the hook.
The voyage was made on a broad reach through 5 foot seas with a 19 Kt wind. We had reefed the main at the first point before raising it and that proved prudent. It was a blast being on the water again and we all took a turn at the helm for the two hour transit. Upon gaining Bequia, we reeled in the jib, fired up the motor and motorsailed into Admiralty Bay. We throttled back, dropped the main, and Chris took the helm as Joe and Sam loosed the anchor. Using the time honored and proven theory that all things will eventually wind up at the bottom of the boat, I managed to find the bottle of rum. Just it time, it turned out, cause we all needed a drink to celebrate!
Sam and Joe had to take their 101 exam while Chris and I proved ourselves heros to each other over the first couple of glasses. We found the propane solenoid, located a pot and filled it with something or other we agreed to eat after it was warm. Ah, life on a boat. It's all I remembered!
Link to images of a 44 foot Gib'Sea
https://www.google.com/search?site=&tbm=isch&source=hp&biw=1038&bih=660&q=44+foot+Gib%27Sea&oq=44+foot+Gib%27Sea&gs_l=img.12...9348.15365.0.17930.15.8.0.7.7.0.190.972.4j4.8.0....0...1ac.1.45.img..6.9.973.NRU6xz_VvCM
Yea Forrest! Good to see you writing again. I've read all the latest blogs and they are intriguing! Why would, you ask, anyone want to read your writings about your activities? Because you allow us to travel with you on your life's voyage. It's a fun trip, sometimes filled with the heartbreak we all feel but don't express as well as you. Sail on good friend, and may you always have a fair wind and a following sea.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Edwardo. That's quite a compliment
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