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2007 Launch |
June 6 was sunny and bright, with a brisk WNW wind. This
wind didn't bother me since it blows right off the land, and
therefore wouldn't affect launching ramps, mooring fields,
or boatyard cranes. So I looked forward to my second launch
attempt in a season that had already been filled with
unhelpful schedules, weather, and
unwanted delays.
My only trepidations this day revolved around the timing of
the launch, and the tides; low tide fell around 0924. And
the unknown quantities of mast-stepping boatyards and other
factors.
Steve Morse picked the boat up around 0845, and by 0915 we
were on our way back to Rockland--a much more pleasant
journey than Monday's. We arrived at the ramp at 1000. I
launched the dinghy and checked out the water depth at the
dock with an oar: chest height, or maybe 4' if I was lucky.
But nonetheless, I thought the ramp and harbor looked rather
more hospitable today than on Monday.
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What could we do, however, but attempt the launch, water or
no water. After all, I understood that Steve's
next launching customer was a real hard-driver and the
sort of a pain-in-the-neck who wouldn't stand for the
slightest lateness. So clearly, I had to come off the
trailer. Steve backed the boat down as far as possible, and
we managed to get her off the trailer and (more or less)
into the water.
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She was afloat, but most assuredly stuck in the soft, silty
mud of the ramp bottom; I couldn't pull the boat back away
from the ramp. Good enough; I settled in to await the rising
tide, and took care of a few of my post-launch chores while
I waited. It seems that I neglected to take photos of the
boat at the launching dock.
After an hour, the boat was afloat, and I felt confident to
cast off and head out and across the wide harbor to my
mooring at the far northern edge of the harbor, about a mile
and a half distant. With the low water and my unfamiliarity
with the harbor, I saw no reason to rush, and felt my way
along until I reached deeper water.
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I was unsure as to the timing or availability of my
mast-stepping appointment at Knight Marine, so I chose to
head for my rented mooring off Ocean Pursuits, where I could
at least drop off the dinghy before heading in. After
reaching the area where I knew my mooring to be, I headed
for a likely candidate and determined that indeed it was #8,
my designated mooring. I picked up the mooring around 1100,
and enjoyed my surroundings for the moment.
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I called Knights and found out I was scheduled for 2:30. It
sounded like they had forgotten me, and were therefore
squeezing me in--something that I later found, annoyingly,
to be true. So with 2 1/2 hours to wait, I relaxed and
enjoyed the fine weather, and took care of some of the
little jobs on board, like permanently securing the radar
pole (which I had raised and installed with a single bolt
upon launching), double-checking the mast and rigging, and
other minor things like tightening the stuffing box.
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Shortly before 1430, I headed into Knights. A boat was just
backing out of the area where the crane was, and shortly
thereafter a guy appeared and waved me in. It was a very
tight spot indeed: two rafted boats at the outboard end of
the dock made the approach, already narrow against the stone
jetty at the Vinalhaven ferry landing next door, even
tighter, and the space at the dock was about 35' long. I
angled the boat in and docked without problem, but knew that
getting back out would be a bit more of a chore.
A crew of monkeys swarmed over the boat, each more clueless
than the last. While nothing particularly untoward occurred,
let's just say that I was less than impressed overall with
my stepping experience, perhaps because I sorely missed the
low-key and competent Dugas boys in Yarmouth, who always
made it seem to easy. I don't like people who think they
know my boat better than I--because no one does.
Anyway, we got the mast upright, but I needed three
additional toggles at the backstay in order to attach the
stay--very strange indeed, and I could only chalk this up to
the tension of the jumpers, which must have been tighter
than last time. Fortunately, I had plenty of rigging gear
aboard (including lots of extra clevis pins to replace the
three that the yard crew dropped off the bow while trying to
install the headstay).
Almost before the mast was stepped, the crew was off and
running, seemingly because my appointment had interfered
with break time. One guy couldn't wait to try and impress
his girlfriend, who was watching the process, and this
surely colored the entire experience. I was annoyed with the
process, the lack of care, the lack of personability, and
the smart-mouthing. I have little patience for that sort of
thing.
I paid and got untied, and, using a dozen strong alternating
bursts of reverse and hard astarboard forward throttle (to
straighten the boat before backing once more), managed to
back the boat out of the tight spot without running into the
stone jetty next door, or into the lobster boat tied to the
Knight's dock. The increasing NW winds weren't helping the
already poor backing characteristics of the boat.
I was rather happy to get away from that Knightmare and
pleased to have the stick up. Getting the mast up is always
the worst part of the season, since the boat is useless
without the mast, the mast is in the way on deck, and I just
never like the stepping process much.
Back on the mooring, I straightened up the rigging and did
some rough tuning to get the mast straight. I temporarily
pinned the turnbuckles, installed the boom and rigid vang
(somehow, I misplaced the top bolt for the vang; I installed
a temporary one for now, though it was 1/2" too long), and
installed the dodger. I cleaned up above and belowdecks as
much as I could, and packed up to go, since it was getting
late. The wind had also picked up as the back of a front
passed through, and this would have in any event made
installing sails more difficult than absolutely necessary. I
hated to leave the boat sail-less and naked, but what can
you do.
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Since I had to leave my truck at the public launch, which
was about as far away by land or sea as it could be and
still be in the same harbor, I had wrestled with how best to
handle getting back to the truck. I could row ashore at
Ocean Pursuits and leave the dinghy there, where it was
supposed to be, and then walk through town to the landing;
or I could row back to the launch ramp and just bring the
dinghy home this time. I decided I preferred rowing to
walking, and, with (I thought) the wind behind me the row
wouldn't be too bad, though long.
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Let's just say that I was pretty tired when I arrived at the
landing after a 50-minute row through the harbor, with the
wind on the port quarter; my left arm was significantly more
tired, since I had to stroke harder on that side to keep the
dinghy straight. I hadn't rowed in almost two years, and
this was quite an initiation back into it. I was thankful to
arrive, stow the dinghy, and head home. |
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