"...and then the mast came down." Ordinarily, this phrase would be the pinnacle of misfortune in a 'worst experiences at sea' story. Fortunately, this is the midpoint of a rather happy tale, where some of the remaining idiosyncrasies of Ashiya were resolved. However, I should begin from the beginning.

It was Cinco de Mayo, and Sheryl and I hit some pretty heavy traffic heading from Durham to the coast. It had been a busy week at home. I had been in Connecticut on Thursday and Friday of last week, arriving home late on Friday night only to depart again on Sunday for Philadelphia to work on Monday. Upon my return, I was greeted Tuesday with our first offer on the house. It was almost insultingly low, and became the final nail in the coffin for our 'For Sale by Owner' experiment. We listed the house with a realtor on Thursday night. From this point on, the promotion, showing, and negotiation for the sale our house is someone else's responsibility.

Due to the fact that arriving in Whortonsville before nightfall was looking less and less possible, we decided to stop for Mexican food on our way. We enjoyed a nice meal at a large family Mexican restaurant called El Korito and were on the road before the rain began. When we hit the band of showers visibility dropped in half. Fortunately, within an hour we were free of the storms and by the time we passed the bridge at New Bern, the ground was looking dry. We arrived, unloaded our gear and had a chance to say 'hi' to Stefan before the rain caught up to us and sent us to bed.

We awoke the next morning to a nice breakfast in the 'cockpit,' admiring Jeanette's handiwork in some new vinyl and sunbrella covers she had constructed for the screens to help block the winds from our dining and gathering porch. After breakfast, we were able to fill Stefan, Nick, and Jeanette in on our plans for the day. They centered around dropping the mast on Ashiya to do some repair work. The weather seemed conducive, and the boat next to ours, Dash was away from her slip. Perfect timing for a chore we had been planning for months.

Nick and Stefan followed us out to the slip, where we made the final preparations for the lowering of the mast. We even had a chance to meet Brian, the owner of Intermission, the large trawler located directly across from our slip, and assured him that we carried plenty of liability insurance in the event of a mishap during this procedure. Once all was in place, and a few suggestions on improving the safety and proficiency of the procedure were obtained from Nick and Stefan, Sheryl unhooked the final stay, and we lowered it down. With the top of the mast centered on the dock, we quickly assessed the needed repairs and Sheryl went to town for supplies. The major repair items: a stuck halyard and re-rigging the headsail were easily achieved, as well as minor maintenance items: new light bulbs for the anchor and steaming lights, and fresh rigging tape on the shroud boots were completed. Finally, we raised the mast back up with the invaluable assistance of Brian and Stefan. Once the shrouds and stays were re-secured, we gave Stefan a hand raising his headsail (admittedly, a less than an adequate return of the favor, but it appeared to be appreciated nonetheless).

With the sun rapidly heading toward the horizon, we showered away the day's efforts and enjoyed a nice dinner and conversation with Stefan in the 'cockpit.'

On Sunday, we rose to a fairly windy morning with sailing on our minds. After breakfast, we were out of the slip by 9:30am and on the rather lumpy Neuse River with Mr. Engine, Sir, silenced before 10:30. We let the winds dictate our direction, and found ourselves on a very fast beam reach to the marker at the point of Gum Thicket Shoal, with average speeds of 6 kts, and an occasional push to as high as 6.7 kts (what is the hull speed on this boat, anyway?). Once past the marker, we decided to tack, since the wind was clocking around to a less favorable direction. Midway through the tack, the lazy jib sheet caught on a cleat and caused the genoa to be backwinded, making for a very ugly tangle of sheets. I freed the caught sheet, but decided to just take in the genoa altogether, since the already frayed sunbrella edge on the sail was now completely loose in two places. We sailed back all the way to the Broad/Brown Creek split under mainsail alone (at a nice 3-5 kts pace) before starting up Mr. Engine, Sir. Once back in the slip, we easily dropped the genoa and stowed it in the car to take home and consider repairs.

After a late lunch, we tied off Ashiya and headed back west. Within the first hour of our drive, we again hit a band of rain which limited visibility even in these daylight hours. The rains let up by the time we arrived home, dripping tiny puddles of water in the garage as we unpacked the car. Time to prepare for another week of work.