Kaimusailing

I had agreed to help Geoff, the chemist, prep veggies for the St Marys Thanksgiving Feast for Cruising Sailors, held annually at Thanksgiving Day. I biked to his waterfront home and we got to work. 5 lbs of carrots were julienned and parboiled. A bag of shallots was peeled and minced. Geoff sauteed a huge bunch of green beans, the shallots were caramellized and added, and the result was broiled. The carrots were glazed with brown sugar and roasted. A huge pot of potatoes were boiled till done, then skinned, riced, melted with a pound of butter and whipped with a pint of cream. A huge ham came out of the oven and was sliced into a serving tray. A pot of cranberries and their juices were seasoned on the stove. Geoff had already prepared a pot of gravy and a tray of stuffing.
.
That evening we attended an oyster roast at Seagles Saloon. Geoff’s wife, Karen, said she didn’t like oysters. I had a couple of the oysters and ate one. It was very nice. The other looked odd and I didn’t even taste it. Karen said they make shrimp scampi here to die for, so we ordered that while Geoff had a lot of oysters washed down with stout beer. Karen and I had pinot wine, noir for me and grigio for her.
.
Karen’s role during this holiday was to ferry sailors from the town to laundry to shop to hardware, she was driving all over town. They both answer their phone “Yacht Club” and provide support and coordination for the event.
.
On Thanksgiving Day I received a sad text from Roughrider Lynn. Helicopter Dave had suffered a fatal heart attack up in Virginia. The news spread around the boatyard. It would not be a Happy Thanksgiving for any of us.
.
We loaded the hot trays of food into his truck and parked in front of the saloon, the venue for the feast. We carried the food in and soon two lines of tables were covered with food from us and from visiting cruisers who were encouraged to bring side items. Salads, mac and cheese, pies, cakes, fudges, potato dishes, and there even was a spiced squash soup.
.
A long line formed outside and I remained inside, anesthesizing my sore hip with wine. A football game was on. I can be very patient in a situation like that. I was guarding Karen’s pocketbook, so I couldn’t leave. Well, I could leave, but I would be in line with a pocketbook. It was stylish and pretty. Need I say more.
.
Geoff and Karen came in with laden plates of food, accompanied by Big Dave. I was free to tag onto the end of the line and get my own. The gravy had been depleted, otherwise I had a full plate of Thanksgiving goodies. Geoff uncorked a beaujolais which I tasted. Soon it was gone and a more expensive wine from the medoc region was uncorked. Let’s watch the rest of the game at the house he suggested and we departed with a small tray of leftovers. Very small. Even as we were leaving a cruising boater asked if he could have some, yes, of course, not much left at all.
.
It has been a year of troubles. It’s hard to be thankful, but there are others who would be glad to be in our shoes. At least we can make an effort to fight the gloom and the ravages of time with a feast, meet fellow sailors, try to continue to climb up out of the cold social distancing of the pandemic. We have all learned to wash our hands, play keep away, cheer each other up somehow. Now winter is on its way. I have had some bouts of depression and some uplifting moments. It all comes from within ourselves, find your inner peace I say, I have to practice what I preach. Do your best to help others find it, that is what is really rewarding.
.
After hearing that Helicopter Dave had died, it seemed to not register, it was shocking, and the elements of grief were there milling around. Grief is fueled by fond memories, the more wonderful, the greater the grief that they are gone.