| Guess I'll have to usurp this topic for my little story, couldn't find
another that fit....maybe close encounters or something like that.
This is a recantation of three events, that came on the same day. Sort
fo the type of thing that can ruin your fun if you let it.
This Saturday (5/21/94) finds the first really summer like day on the
great lakes. Temps in the high 80's, moderate southerly of 12-15kn,
cloudless (PF30) sky. The exit from my small boat yard is through a
channel that silts up in the winter and gets "dredged" by folks like
me, the ones with 6ft of "plow" to stir up the muck and let the river
take it away. To "plow" one gets on the rhumb line and goes to full
throttle. I've done this with only 5.1ft under my 6ft keel and make it
out just fine (albeit slowly). This weekend, was the first where
mayflies and boaters propogated with abandon. I had a gang aboard that
included ages 5, 6, 13, their parents, an engaged couple and one other.
One the way out (plowing) an impatient sort, gets tired of my 1.75
knots forward progress and passes to left at partial plane (in the
marina no less) digging this monstrous hole in the water. "Grab a kid!"
and in we fall. Thanks cowboy....
Tying up in Canada, after juggling the upriver approach against 3kn
current, takes priority when your engine overheat alarms goes off.
Nothing like that shrill, and loud, scream to raise your blood pressure
40pts and take away that sense of serenity sailing tends to loan you.
Got it done and shut down before anything fried, but, as someone once
said, "twas a near run thing." Five of the six impeller blades evidently
did not like sitting permanently bent for four years and picked this time
to stage a walkout. Hope they like whereever they are. In 1989, I had
changed out the original on G.P. and, since it was good, just taped it to
the engine room wall, where it still hung. Pat's on the back for that
one.
That excitement and the chore of changing it, resulted in mental
overload and I neglected to call customs after arrival. So the
mounties arrived, found my hull number missing from their list and were
properly agitated. Seems that $100 fine is the order of the day and
they were pointing that out when.....I need to digress here, I had lost
my hat early on on the beat and was taking a beating on the thin spots
(get the idea?). So I had gone looking for a hat upon arrival and had
found one, though not one of my choice since I prefer the Red Sox or
Tigers if baseball is the discussion. Certainly not the BlueJays. I
hate the Bluejays!
Anyway.....when he noticed my hat. "Since you are a BlueJay fan, I'm
giving you a break....a warning this time. Please call in next time."
I still hate the Bluejays, but I keep my "$100" hat for a while....
So we head back and see the most spectacular sunset and then the wind
dies and its iron genny time for the last three miles. Arriving at
11pm, dark and getting dock lines fenders, dousing sails, bagging the
main....I barely notice the large power cruiser passing to starboard
(there's rocks over there). This guy gets up ahead cuts power and
turns across my bow about 100yds ahead. Yikes! I notice him now. I
cannot turn to port (seawall) or to starboard (shoals) and full reverse
with 9hp (martec folder) and 5.5kn of way on is a not so sudden affair.
Amid his cursing at me for failing to stop, he belts his twin x
hundred horsepower engines and backs neatly. I turned into his slip
entry and finally get it stopped. Then back out and politely say
"7000lbs, 9hp!...Sorry"
All in all, a wonderful day on the water, the troubles were all land
related. At precisely 10pm, the most spectacular meteor passed above,
exploding into two pieces and burning out after transiting the entire
horizon. A perfect exclamation point!
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