Day One on the new boat (long version)
We drove down Friday night and stayed in Wilmington so we can have a peaceful morning on Saturday. Met Joe (PO), did the paperwork (the admiral is now the proud and sole owner of the boat), drove down to the dock and stepped on the boat for the first time. Joe showed us around one last time, the seacocks, switches, valves, etc., then headed to the fun race he was participating in. Seeing how it was time for early lunches and the fun race sounded like fun, we drove over. We found good seats with a view of the harbor, ordered a pina colada to toast the purchase and waited. The race had to be delayed (I think, I really have no idea) until the crews could finish the refreshments at the starting parking lot. Then they all ran to their dinghies, paddled out to the sailboats and sailed out of the harbor. Fortunately for them and unfortunately for the spectators, the wind allowed for a beam reach straight out of the marina, so the carnage was minimal. Then we went back to the boat.
Time to get to work, back to the boat. We measured the bimini so we can move it under the boom, took inventory of what we need to bring next time, sat around for a bit enjoying the rare cool NC summer day. Then we got bored and started itching for a sail.
1. OK, start the diesel. Remember what the instructor said: "is it peeing?" No. "NO?" aaah, kill (oops, bad choice of words, "stop") the engine. Go find the intake, open it. Start the engine, is it peeing? Check.
2. Observe the wind and the current. Check
3. Cast off and start backing out of the marina. Uh oh, I cannot back this thing up against the wind. By now we are sideways in a 35 ft channel minus the boats docked on one side. NOT Check. Start a 19-point turn (nearest analogy I can give is Austin Powers in the golf cart trying to turn around in the corridor). Realize we're either going to hit the sailboat docked next to us or run into the marsh (of course choose the soft and welcoming arms of the marsh). Back into the marsh accompanied by creaking sounds from the poor transom. Full Forward (glad it's an inboard, don't want to think about the mess the outboard would have made in full throttle buried in the weeds), aim back the way we started, head into the marina. At least there is more room at the end and I do not have to turn straight into the wind.
4. Drift to the end, turn into the wide section, start a slow deliberate turn. Check
5. Fail to complete the turn, try a prop walk (aaah, it goes straight when there is something behind us and walks when I aim it at open water). We're now headed for a Cape Dory, albeit slowly (I'll fix that). Put the boat in forward by mistake and push the throttle. [Sidebar: the supreme commander is sleeping in the v-berth. Wakes up with every BBBRAAAAGH from the engine, cries and goes back to sleep, not good for the helmsman's nerves]. Now we are headed for the Cape Dory FAST. People jump out of their boats and start climbing on the boat we are about to Moby Dick. The admiral, who has been standing at the bow to futilely guide me, gives me a look that I can only describe as "I cannot believe you are going to hit another boat with the part of MY new boat that I am standing on". FULL REVERSE, BBBRAAAAGH. OK, somehow we are aimed back the way we came. Check.
6. Put-put past where we cast off 20 minutes ago and head to the mouth of the marina. Now I should mention Southport is where the Cape Fear dumps in the ocean and the ICW continues south inland. The marina is on the ICW just south of where it splits from Cape Fear. There are power boats the size of my house buzzing by, there are 20+ foot power boats wake-jumping behind them. It's scary.
7. Let's see, we'll just unfurl the genoa and motor sail around on the ICW for a bit. The admiral unfurls the genoa halfway and it stops against the blocks I "adjusted" an hour ago. OK, we have half a genoa, should be enough in this wind. As we approach the ICW and as I fiddle with the tiller with growing static panic, we head up, back-wind the genoa and it starts flapping. I take one more look at the traffic and decide I've had enough (I assumed, correctly, that the admiral had enough when we almost speared the Cape Dory).
"Furl" I say.
"What" asks the admiral.
What I really wanted to say next was "RETREAT, woman. Waterloo, Little Big Horn, the Huns are coming. RETREAT! There be monsters out there."
What I intended to say, calmly, was "I think this is enough for the first time, we should furl the sail up and put around the harbor a bit"
What came out: "urggh, furl" (then realizing _I_ have that end) "LEMME FURL (can't remember exact expletive) LEGGO!"
We somehow furled the sail, revved up the engine and turned into the marina with our best "We meant to do that" look.
8. Put put back to the dock. I am NOT docking downwind and downcurrent. Go to the other end of the marina, turn around. This time no reverse and in one slow arc, sweet. Come up to our spot, slow and deliberate as I can, try to glide to a graceful stop right on the spot. We kinda both gave up during the last two feet, jumped on the dock and grabbed the boat. Tied it up and (I am not making this up) high-fived each other. Then we put up the bimini and collapsed in the cockpit.
Rest of the afternoon we sat around and I got dehydrated and grouchy. Then we went home.
|
Comments [2]