FIRST LIGHT

The Christmas Day Cruiser Party at Green Turtle was fun. Lots of odd bean dishes, some with spicy rice, others with quinoa. We’d supplied a PNW (pacific northwest) Smoked Salmon Salad that drew praise. We met a retired architect and his fun British friend. We talked about the Cathars, Cognac and the fun of sailing in the rain and cold. They’d just come down from the Eastern Shore of Maryland. “Two words,” he said, “Full Enclosure!”

The next morning dawned breathless and oppressively muggy - Hallie’s wind-eliminating non-super super-power in full swing. Harv and I found gnats galore in the cockpit. They didn’t leave welts, but they were beyond annoying. Finally even Harv took to the Deep Woods Off! We chose to leave as soon as half-tide would allow and so at 0800 Harv, having returned from dropping off keys, brought me a bag of ice, a fly-swatter and a lovely Boxing Day gift of new, gorgeously creamy yellow beach towels. Who knew they would come in so handy!?

We motored the 6 miles to this lovely bay between Manjack and Crab Cays and anchored with what would eventually be over a dozen other boats. After a nap or three we decided shell hunting in the mangroves was in order. This meant rigging the dingy motor… the infamous damned dingy motor. With Hal’s help we got it settled and it started at the first pull, ran a while, died, but started again! We were jubilant and off we went. I don’t think we were 100 feet from the boat when it died and refused to cooperate. We oared back as friendly Ken (from Vermont) sped over to see if we needed a tow. We didn’t, but admitted another set of eyes wouldn’t hurt. He was knowledgeable, adventurous, funny. He’d decided to come down after having cared for years for his ailing mom who’d passed away. He joked about asking his sons, “Who wants the farm?” None did, so he sold it. They were furious but, Ken laughed, “They’re the ones sitting up in the rain!”

With a gas engine there can only be 3 problems … well, maybe 4. It’s not getting a spark, fuel or air … or there’s some sensor that’s unhappy. We traced wiring for possible sensor concerns (everything looked happy). We brought out the volt meter to see if the coil was getting spark (check), but installed a new plug just in case. Next came fuel. Harv had read the manual which said when using the upper tank to have a certain valve in a certain position (done). We unscrewed the drain on the carburetor (hardly a drop came out). We began to pull off hoses tracing the blockage back toward the tank (nothing). Then Harv turned the valve the other, ostensibly wrong way and HUZZAH (fuel aplenty)! Hoses back in place, crank her over and she purred like we’d always hoped she would. Ken laughed with us about the fun of boating. Hallie who’d been swimming around the boat, taking underwater pictures, climbed aboard and all 4 horses sauntered us off to shell.

After cockpit showers (note to self: Harv and I should not wash our hair at the same time. Both of us having our eyes closed can be dangerous as my engagement ring’s new, rather pronounced prongs can cause untold havoc when reaching for the nozzle and encountering his head instead. Ah, well, cuts and bruises seem to be par for the boat-course… the top of my right foot is just now a lovely shade of magenta and puce) … after cockpit showers we settled into beverages, conversation and a thoroughly enjoyable evening lolling in a light breeze, watching our neighbors, listening to Hallie’s book “World War Z”, and when that got us a bit down, our book “Bully Pulpit”, and chatting about the future and the past. Hallie decided the lovely night would be best spent in the cockpit.

The bumping dingy was our first clue. The wind was pulling us one way, the tide the other – time, about 0520. No problem we thought, but shortly thereafter we heard the all too familiar pitter-patter. Jump up, climb outside, put hatches down on the dogs (it leaves about an inch open so we can have a little airflow below) but then the real stuff started to come down. Hallie, nearly drenched, gave it up. I put on coffee. Harv went topside again to completely close us up. And here we sit, under the dodger just like in “olden days” of the PNW, sipping coffee and praising the designers of this fine boat, watching the morning unfold without a full enclosure but still dry and happy.