We had a bonfire on Saturday night in the back yard. About 45 friends came, some with their children and some with their grandchildren - many in Halloween costumes (the kids, that is). The weather had been iffy all day, spitting rain and even snow for most of the afternoon. But at about 6 PM, an hour before the fire was to start, the sun broke through briefly on the western horizon giving us a great sunset. The clouds quickly rolled back in, but there was no more rain or snow for the rest of the night.
Lori did a great job of setting things up. We had tables on the lawn with lots of food and drink. She ran Halloween lights in the trees and put candles everywhere. And she made a path of paper bag lanterns on the lawn that led from the field next door where everyone parked into the back of our house where we congregated.
Our friends, John, Colleen and Emily showed up first and helped with final preparations. I wanted to have the fire going when people arrived, so John and I lit it at about 6:45. It was a little slow starting, but once it caught, the 10' pile of brush, lumber and palettes really blazed, spraying sparks high above the surrounding tree tops. The flames themselves must have been 20' tall. It was awesome and we all got a kick out of watching it - for about 20 minutes, that is. After that, the pyre settled down and threatened to expire, even before the party started.
John and I began pulling large pieces of logs out of the brush pile in the woods behind our house. The stuff was wet because we've had a lot of rain over the past month. But it burned once it sat on the fire for a while. Getting to the stuff and pulling it out was a bit of a challenge in the dark, but we hauled out enough to keep the fire going for a couple of hours.
People filtered in all night, many of whom we hadn't seen in a while and some who'd never been to our house before. The weather was just cold enough to make you sit close to the fire to stay warm. Everyone gathered around it in groups some sticking with the people they knew, others venturing into unknown social circles. The snacks that Lori set out were mostly finger-food, but there were a couple of hot dishes as well. Hot cider was the second-most popular beverage with beer being the clear favorite.
Over the course of the evening, I made a number of sojourns back to the woods for more fuel, oftentimes with help from one of the guys. The fire burned well into the night and the last guests left around 11 or 11:30. Lori and I sat around the fire until close to midnight before heading in, leaving the food, tables and everything else right where it was.
I was surprised to find the flames still active on Sunday morning when we finally rolled out of bed. Lori got some coffee and I threw more wood on the fire and it picked right up. The sun was out and it must have been about 60 degrees by 9 AM. We spent the day picking up and doing stuff around the house, stopping once in a while to share a story of something we had seen or heard from someone the night before. It was a great weekend.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Sunday, September 25, 2005
A Hell of a Summer
I think I measure my quality-of-life by how much I enjoy the summers. We only have so many of them throughout our lives and some are good while some are not-so-good. This summer was, and will probably remain, one of the better ones in my life.
As I've mentioned on this blog, at the beginning of the season I bought a small sailboat which I named Aelena. I learned the ropes, quite literally, and after fixing her up, I sailed her 15 times between early July and early September in the Atlantic off the coast of New Hampshire and Maine. Because of her relatively high displacement, she handled wonderfully, even in heavy seas. Her only shortfall is in light airs, but I'd rather have a boat that can handle the tough stuff and plods along in light wind than one that can't take the big seas and 20kt winds that are common to my neck of the ocean.
I also spent three days on Star island. After sailing there frequently over the course of the summer, I signed up for a writer's conference that was held in early September. The place was magical and I met the most interesting people. I'm taking a stab at writing a fictional story based on life there. I look forward to visiting again next season.
Lori and I always hate to see the warm weather give way to frosty nights, but we're ready for autumn this year. I closed the pool this weekend, buttoned up the boat, split a bunch of firewood, hauled it up to the house and stacked it outside the family-room. I also took the first pass at the lawn picking up leaves, put down some grub-killer, stacked a bunch of brush for a bonfire, stowed away the patio furniture and cleaned out the garage. Lori changed all of the rugs from summer sisal to winter wool, put the flannel sheets on the bed, swapped out the curtains and washed the wood floors of their summer grit. It was all cathartic and now we're ready for the cold nights and roaring fires. Hope you are here for some of them!
As I've mentioned on this blog, at the beginning of the season I bought a small sailboat which I named Aelena. I learned the ropes, quite literally, and after fixing her up, I sailed her 15 times between early July and early September in the Atlantic off the coast of New Hampshire and Maine. Because of her relatively high displacement, she handled wonderfully, even in heavy seas. Her only shortfall is in light airs, but I'd rather have a boat that can handle the tough stuff and plods along in light wind than one that can't take the big seas and 20kt winds that are common to my neck of the ocean.
I also spent three days on Star island. After sailing there frequently over the course of the summer, I signed up for a writer's conference that was held in early September. The place was magical and I met the most interesting people. I'm taking a stab at writing a fictional story based on life there. I look forward to visiting again next season.
Lori and I always hate to see the warm weather give way to frosty nights, but we're ready for autumn this year. I closed the pool this weekend, buttoned up the boat, split a bunch of firewood, hauled it up to the house and stacked it outside the family-room. I also took the first pass at the lawn picking up leaves, put down some grub-killer, stacked a bunch of brush for a bonfire, stowed away the patio furniture and cleaned out the garage. Lori changed all of the rugs from summer sisal to winter wool, put the flannel sheets on the bed, swapped out the curtains and washed the wood floors of their summer grit. It was all cathartic and now we're ready for the cold nights and roaring fires. Hope you are here for some of them!
Friday, September 02, 2005
September Vacation - Day 1
Today is the first day of a 15-day vacation. I've always liked taking my time off in the summer, and it's even more true since I got the boat. I put it off until now for a couple of reasons, but after today, I'm glad I waited.
When I got up this morning, I found that Lori had gotten out of bed early, cleaned the place really well and made coffee. And the weather was perfect! It's Friday before Labor Day weekend and it was hot and sunny.
I had a leisurely cup of coffee with Lori before she left for work (she couldn't take the time off). At about 10 I packed a bag and headed for the marina. There was only a mild breeze coming out of the harbor, but a couple of miles out, the wind freshened and I had Aelena cruising between 4 and 5 knots. The swells were between one and two feet - not really enough to feel.
About a mile from the islands, the wind picked up and I started seeing scattered white caps. The boat began pulling hard and heeling a lot. She stayed well above five knots for a long ride and actually hit six knots for a short stretch. We were running against the current, too, so hitting six knots in these conditions was quite fun. (But not as exciting as the 7 knot ride in my last post.)
I got further out into the ocean than I've been before about a quarter of a mile beyond the islands, to their North. It was great out there - strong wind and and a decent chop. Not much traffic, either. I turned her around at exactly 1PM - 2 hours after I left the ramp at Rye Harbor. It was about a 7 mile jaunt, so I averaged 3.5 knots.
After coming about to head back in, the ride was a little rougher, or so it seemed. She was heeling excessively, even though her speed was only around four knots. After a while, I reefed the main sail thinking that would help straighten her out and might even add some speed. But all she did was slow down to three knots and seemed to develop more weather helm. After about five minutes, I pulled the sail back out and had an awesome run back into the harbor. She was flying between three and five knots all the way back. I returned to the dock under-sail, just as I left it earlier in the day.
All-in-all, it was a perfect sail. Catherine, I wish you could have been there. I think you'd have been hooked on sailing as I am.
When I got up this morning, I found that Lori had gotten out of bed early, cleaned the place really well and made coffee. And the weather was perfect! It's Friday before Labor Day weekend and it was hot and sunny.
I had a leisurely cup of coffee with Lori before she left for work (she couldn't take the time off). At about 10 I packed a bag and headed for the marina. There was only a mild breeze coming out of the harbor, but a couple of miles out, the wind freshened and I had Aelena cruising between 4 and 5 knots. The swells were between one and two feet - not really enough to feel.
About a mile from the islands, the wind picked up and I started seeing scattered white caps. The boat began pulling hard and heeling a lot. She stayed well above five knots for a long ride and actually hit six knots for a short stretch. We were running against the current, too, so hitting six knots in these conditions was quite fun. (But not as exciting as the 7 knot ride in my last post.)
I got further out into the ocean than I've been before about a quarter of a mile beyond the islands, to their North. It was great out there - strong wind and and a decent chop. Not much traffic, either. I turned her around at exactly 1PM - 2 hours after I left the ramp at Rye Harbor. It was about a 7 mile jaunt, so I averaged 3.5 knots.
After coming about to head back in, the ride was a little rougher, or so it seemed. She was heeling excessively, even though her speed was only around four knots. After a while, I reefed the main sail thinking that would help straighten her out and might even add some speed. But all she did was slow down to three knots and seemed to develop more weather helm. After about five minutes, I pulled the sail back out and had an awesome run back into the harbor. She was flying between three and five knots all the way back. I returned to the dock under-sail, just as I left it earlier in the day.
All-in-all, it was a perfect sail. Catherine, I wish you could have been there. I think you'd have been hooked on sailing as I am.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
7 Knots in Beam Seas
When I wrote last time, I said that I thought Aelena was capable of 7 knots. Well, that was prescient because I had her up there today on the way back from Star Island.
On the way out of Rye Harbor, the seas and winds were pretty tame. I probably averaged 3 knots and it took me 2.5 hours to get to the little dock on the island at the front of the hotel. The college kid in charge of the dock told me that they weren't supposed to let anyone tie-up there, but he said a half-an-hour would be okay. I took off my life jacket, put on a tee-shirt and took a walk around.
There were a lot of people at the hotel for whatever conference the Unitarians are holding there this week. To get away from the crowd, I took an exterior staircase up to the roof level and could see for miles around. Absolutely beautiful.
Next, a short walk to the east side of the island revealed a small cluster of stone buildings - one with a sign that said 'Thaxter Exhibit 1-3' . It was just past one so I went in. The small post-and-beam building was empty except for a young girl who greeted me and told me all about the history of the place. It was completely surreal - like out of a movie. We sat in rocking chairs while seagulls wheeled outside and the bell-buoy chimed to the beat of the waves. Sun came into the wooden room through old windows and illuminated the modest displays of porcelain, pictures and paintings from the island's early inhabitants. I was mesmerized and would have liked to have stayed for a lot longer than I did.
At 1:30, I politely excused myself as I knew the 30 minutes I was allotted at the dock were more than over. I didn't rush, but was quickly back at the dock, which was empty except for a couple of tenders and Aelena. As I hoisted the mainsail, a college kid offered to cast off my lines, which I gratefully accepted.
As I turned the boat back towards the mainland I had to wrestle with the halyard while unrolling the mainsail from the boom and keeping a relatively steady course. Before I got the sail all the way up, she was pulling hard - I hit 5 knots before I had the jib hoisted.
I considered leaving the jib furled, but I didn't consider it for long. As soon as I had the main up and a course set toward Rye Harbor, I pulled out the jib and the ride started to get interesting.
The boat has a fair amount of weather helm, and as I cleated the jib, she turned into the wind and heeled about 15 degrees. At about the same time, the seas really started kicking up. White caps all around and the swells were easily 4-5 feet, hitting the boat directly on the port side.
I had both sheets in one hand and the tiller in the other riding her like a bull. One wave after another first pointed her upwards, kind of sideways, and then set her down spraying salt water over the bow. The leeward gunnels were just above the water and getting wet, but not submerged. The sails were full and pulling hard.
For the first half hour, I was holding on for dear life. But it didn't take long to figure out how to handle the conditions. I kept an eye to the port side looking for especially large waves. They seemed to come in groups of three or four, so when one hit, I held the stern to the waves until they calmed down a little, slowing the boat and minimizing the side-to-side motion. Then the boat's weather helm headed her up into the wind and we'd pick up speed again.
I couldn't watch the knotmeter on the GPS very well as I had my hands full, but I glanced down and kept track of the speed whenever I felt comfortable. There were a couple of times when it hit 6.8 knots and I let out a holler when I saw 7.0. There's a chance that she was going faster and I missed it, but I'm thrilled with 7 knots.
So now I'm back home writing this, feeling like the computer desk is pitching and bobbing. I'm getting to like this feeling.
On the way out of Rye Harbor, the seas and winds were pretty tame. I probably averaged 3 knots and it took me 2.5 hours to get to the little dock on the island at the front of the hotel. The college kid in charge of the dock told me that they weren't supposed to let anyone tie-up there, but he said a half-an-hour would be okay. I took off my life jacket, put on a tee-shirt and took a walk around.
There were a lot of people at the hotel for whatever conference the Unitarians are holding there this week. To get away from the crowd, I took an exterior staircase up to the roof level and could see for miles around. Absolutely beautiful.
Next, a short walk to the east side of the island revealed a small cluster of stone buildings - one with a sign that said 'Thaxter Exhibit 1-3' . It was just past one so I went in. The small post-and-beam building was empty except for a young girl who greeted me and told me all about the history of the place. It was completely surreal - like out of a movie. We sat in rocking chairs while seagulls wheeled outside and the bell-buoy chimed to the beat of the waves. Sun came into the wooden room through old windows and illuminated the modest displays of porcelain, pictures and paintings from the island's early inhabitants. I was mesmerized and would have liked to have stayed for a lot longer than I did.
At 1:30, I politely excused myself as I knew the 30 minutes I was allotted at the dock were more than over. I didn't rush, but was quickly back at the dock, which was empty except for a couple of tenders and Aelena. As I hoisted the mainsail, a college kid offered to cast off my lines, which I gratefully accepted.
As I turned the boat back towards the mainland I had to wrestle with the halyard while unrolling the mainsail from the boom and keeping a relatively steady course. Before I got the sail all the way up, she was pulling hard - I hit 5 knots before I had the jib hoisted.
I considered leaving the jib furled, but I didn't consider it for long. As soon as I had the main up and a course set toward Rye Harbor, I pulled out the jib and the ride started to get interesting.
The boat has a fair amount of weather helm, and as I cleated the jib, she turned into the wind and heeled about 15 degrees. At about the same time, the seas really started kicking up. White caps all around and the swells were easily 4-5 feet, hitting the boat directly on the port side.
I had both sheets in one hand and the tiller in the other riding her like a bull. One wave after another first pointed her upwards, kind of sideways, and then set her down spraying salt water over the bow. The leeward gunnels were just above the water and getting wet, but not submerged. The sails were full and pulling hard.
For the first half hour, I was holding on for dear life. But it didn't take long to figure out how to handle the conditions. I kept an eye to the port side looking for especially large waves. They seemed to come in groups of three or four, so when one hit, I held the stern to the waves until they calmed down a little, slowing the boat and minimizing the side-to-side motion. Then the boat's weather helm headed her up into the wind and we'd pick up speed again.
I couldn't watch the knotmeter on the GPS very well as I had my hands full, but I glanced down and kept track of the speed whenever I felt comfortable. There were a couple of times when it hit 6.8 knots and I let out a holler when I saw 7.0. There's a chance that she was going faster and I missed it, but I'm thrilled with 7 knots.
So now I'm back home writing this, feeling like the computer desk is pitching and bobbing. I'm getting to like this feeling.
Monday, August 08, 2005
5.3 Knots - 6.5 Miles Out
Aelena and I had a great day on the water today. This was the eighth trip I've made and, like most of them, I was sailing single-handed. Got her out around 10 AM. It's Monday so the harbor was much quieter than on weekends.There was a light breeze out of the south-east. I motored out and hoisted the sail right outside of the jetty.
Right away I set course for the northern point of the Isle of Shoals about 6 miles off the coast. I had a great point of sail and my new GPS gave me an accurate speed reading - something I've been without until now. I averaged about 4 knots out past the red nun at the north side of the islands. But I had a long run at about 4.6 knots with the boat heeled at about 10 degrees. The leeward gunnel wasn't really even close to the water, but sailing at that pitch for a while felt great! I think she could do 7 knots without too much trouble.
I approached with the islands on my starboard side. As I mentioned, the wind was out of the south-east so as I passed the island, I entered its lee and slowed to 2.5 knots. I checked the GPS and I was 6.5 miles out. I really wanted to explore a little and see where the docks were, but it took two hours to get out there and I decided to head back.
I tacked and got a big puff coming out of the turn. The GPS said I hit 5.3 knots. Very cool! But the wind shifted and lightened after that and I was lucky to hold three knots all the way back in. Practiced a few jibes and tacks and got back around 3.
All-in-all, a great sail. The GPS is a Godsend. I no longer have to scan the horizon for landmarks and buoys, or pay religious attention to the compass. The GPS gives me the distance to my destination, the distance to way-points along the way, the variation between the course I'm on and the course to my destination, my speed and a graphical view of my position in relation to the coast. It takes a great deal of the angst out of getting back into port.
Once again, I'm writing this hours after getting home and I still feel the motion of the boat. It's not entirely unpleasant, but it is a little disconcerting. I hope to get out at least once more during this week of vacation. I'm also hoping that Lori joins me.
Right away I set course for the northern point of the Isle of Shoals about 6 miles off the coast. I had a great point of sail and my new GPS gave me an accurate speed reading - something I've been without until now. I averaged about 4 knots out past the red nun at the north side of the islands. But I had a long run at about 4.6 knots with the boat heeled at about 10 degrees. The leeward gunnel wasn't really even close to the water, but sailing at that pitch for a while felt great! I think she could do 7 knots without too much trouble.
I approached with the islands on my starboard side. As I mentioned, the wind was out of the south-east so as I passed the island, I entered its lee and slowed to 2.5 knots. I checked the GPS and I was 6.5 miles out. I really wanted to explore a little and see where the docks were, but it took two hours to get out there and I decided to head back.
I tacked and got a big puff coming out of the turn. The GPS said I hit 5.3 knots. Very cool! But the wind shifted and lightened after that and I was lucky to hold three knots all the way back in. Practiced a few jibes and tacks and got back around 3.
All-in-all, a great sail. The GPS is a Godsend. I no longer have to scan the horizon for landmarks and buoys, or pay religious attention to the compass. The GPS gives me the distance to my destination, the distance to way-points along the way, the variation between the course I'm on and the course to my destination, my speed and a graphical view of my position in relation to the coast. It takes a great deal of the angst out of getting back into port.
Once again, I'm writing this hours after getting home and I still feel the motion of the boat. It's not entirely unpleasant, but it is a little disconcerting. I hope to get out at least once more during this week of vacation. I'm also hoping that Lori joins me.
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Singlehanded
Saturday at last! The sky was clear when I got up and made coffee. I passed the time while Lori was still sleeping by cleaning some of the hard stains in Aelena's gelcoat and putting her gear in order. After breakfast, I headed down to the marina, stepped the mast and rigged the sails. Lori met me there and helped with the launch, but I was flying solo today.
This was my fourth trip out with Aelena, and the first time there was any appreciable wind. It was the second time I took her out solo, and I was looking forward to getting to know her a little better.
As soon as I got out of the harbor I hoisted the main sail and then the jib. Within minutes the wind freshened and suddenly the boat was heeling at a good 35 degrees. I was caught unawares and remembered from sailing with Malcom a couple of years ago that you have to either dump wind from the sails or head up into the wind. I opted for the latter and the heeling actually increased at first and then she calmed down as the bow pointed into the wind.
I furled the jib immediately and headed west towards the Isle of Shoals. It's 6 miles out and I was within a mile of the islands in 1 hour and 5 minutes. She was really cruising! I think she was making a good 5 knots, and that was without the jib.
The seas were choppy and the wind was brisk and out of the NW. I tacked and headed back toward the Rye Harbor buoy. I made great time and rather than return to port, I headed back to the islands, this time with the jib up.
Again she flew and we got a little closer to the islands this time. But the seas were getting rough and the wind was steadily increasing. It had shifted, too, and had been driving me south as I was making my way out to the islands. When I jibed to head back to port, I saw that I'd been blown about a half-a-mile south of where I started. Not a big deal, but since the wind was out of the north west, I had to sail directly into its eye to get back to the harbor. I tried a close reach and then I tacked back and forth, but the progress was very slow. It took me an hour to make two miles.
And it wasn't fun sailing. Whitecaps had formed on the waves and every time I tried to use the jib to increase my speed, the boat heeled to uncomfortable heights. The swells were two-to-three feet and there was a lot of motion on the boat. (I'm writing this 6 hours after getting in to port and I still feel the rocking. It's a strange feeling.) After an hour, I fired up the outboard and motored in. It was a great choice since I was getting tired and that's when I tend to get careless.
I docked easily and called Lori who came down and helped me get her out of the water and onto the trailer. I now have a parking spot at the harbor (on land), so I didn't have to drop the sails, unstep the mast, etc. Just buttoned her up and parked her until the next time...
This was my fourth trip out with Aelena, and the first time there was any appreciable wind. It was the second time I took her out solo, and I was looking forward to getting to know her a little better.
As soon as I got out of the harbor I hoisted the main sail and then the jib. Within minutes the wind freshened and suddenly the boat was heeling at a good 35 degrees. I was caught unawares and remembered from sailing with Malcom a couple of years ago that you have to either dump wind from the sails or head up into the wind. I opted for the latter and the heeling actually increased at first and then she calmed down as the bow pointed into the wind.
I furled the jib immediately and headed west towards the Isle of Shoals. It's 6 miles out and I was within a mile of the islands in 1 hour and 5 minutes. She was really cruising! I think she was making a good 5 knots, and that was without the jib.
The seas were choppy and the wind was brisk and out of the NW. I tacked and headed back toward the Rye Harbor buoy. I made great time and rather than return to port, I headed back to the islands, this time with the jib up.
Again she flew and we got a little closer to the islands this time. But the seas were getting rough and the wind was steadily increasing. It had shifted, too, and had been driving me south as I was making my way out to the islands. When I jibed to head back to port, I saw that I'd been blown about a half-a-mile south of where I started. Not a big deal, but since the wind was out of the north west, I had to sail directly into its eye to get back to the harbor. I tried a close reach and then I tacked back and forth, but the progress was very slow. It took me an hour to make two miles.
And it wasn't fun sailing. Whitecaps had formed on the waves and every time I tried to use the jib to increase my speed, the boat heeled to uncomfortable heights. The swells were two-to-three feet and there was a lot of motion on the boat. (I'm writing this 6 hours after getting in to port and I still feel the rocking. It's a strange feeling.) After an hour, I fired up the outboard and motored in. It was a great choice since I was getting tired and that's when I tend to get careless.
I docked easily and called Lori who came down and helped me get her out of the water and onto the trailer. I now have a parking spot at the harbor (on land), so I didn't have to drop the sails, unstep the mast, etc. Just buttoned her up and parked her until the next time...
Sunday, July 10, 2005
A ship in port is safe, but that's not what ships are made for.
I learned a few things today:
1) It's harder to leave a dock under sail than under power. Clumsy though it was, our departure was under sail.
2) The aspirator on our outboard has to be open in order for the motor to run. This lesson was learned the hard way and made for an interesting return to the dock.
3) 5-10 knot winds are quite tame.
4) Aelena is eminently sea-worthy.
5) Lori's stomach for sailing will only go so-far.
6) Don't trust the belt-clip on a hand-held VHF radio.
7) Trailoring a sailboat is only worthwhile if you're out for a long time.
8) Fishermen aren't interested in recreational sailors.
9) Distance and direction are less apparent on the ocean than they are on land.
10) A roller furler is a wonderful thing.
11) Aelena loses most of her steering ability under jib alone in light airs.
12) I prefer sailing to sitting on-shore watching boats skim the horizon.
1) It's harder to leave a dock under sail than under power. Clumsy though it was, our departure was under sail.
2) The aspirator on our outboard has to be open in order for the motor to run. This lesson was learned the hard way and made for an interesting return to the dock.
3) 5-10 knot winds are quite tame.
4) Aelena is eminently sea-worthy.
5) Lori's stomach for sailing will only go so-far.
6) Don't trust the belt-clip on a hand-held VHF radio.
7) Trailoring a sailboat is only worthwhile if you're out for a long time.
8) Fishermen aren't interested in recreational sailors.
9) Distance and direction are less apparent on the ocean than they are on land.
10) A roller furler is a wonderful thing.
11) Aelena loses most of her steering ability under jib alone in light airs.
12) I prefer sailing to sitting on-shore watching boats skim the horizon.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
The time has come
I went to the marina tonight and picked up Aelena. She looks great - the cable on the keel winch is brand-new and ready to do its job. Everything on the boat is, as far as I can tell, as ready as it can be for the maiden sail.
I've been reading sailing books ever since I brought Aelena home. I'm 3/4 of the way through The Annapolis Book of Seamanship and I've read two other very good books on the subject. I've also taken a number of sailing classes and gone out on friends' boats over the past dozen years. I am ready to sail my boat! I'm hoping it will happen this weekend, but the forecast doesn't look good. I'll let you know if it happens.
I've been reading sailing books ever since I brought Aelena home. I'm 3/4 of the way through The Annapolis Book of Seamanship and I've read two other very good books on the subject. I've also taken a number of sailing classes and gone out on friends' boats over the past dozen years. I am ready to sail my boat! I'm hoping it will happen this weekend, but the forecast doesn't look good. I'll let you know if it happens.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Well, not quite
Saturday morning I got up at 5 and started working to get Aelena ready to launch. By 8, it was scorching hot and I was sweating buckets. But I had accomplished much of what I needed to get done, and by 1o AM she was about ready. We loaded her up - Lori packed a lunch and I stowed the safety and navigation gear. With the trailer hitched and our sunscreen on, I decided to check the marine forecast before we took off. Lo-and-behold, a small craft advisory was in effect in our part of the coast. No way was I going to launch a 17' daysailer in those conditions.
After thinking it over, I called the marina at Great Bay. It's inland and fed by a river so the conditions were much better. We were back in business.
We drove over and we were stepping the mast by 11 AM. The weather was brutally hot - in the 90's and very humid. I bought a chart of the bay and backed Aelena down the ramp. Just like that, she was floating . Ya-hoo!
Then CLUNK and everything stopped. She was half-way off of the trailer and wouldn't go any further. I got down in the water and tried to coax her along, but she was stopped fast. I asked a couple of guys who were waiting to launch their boats if they knew of any obstructions below the water on the ramp. None, they said, and we all gathered around trying to figure it out.
After a few more tries, I pulled her back onto the trailer and out of the water. One of the guys asked if maybe the swing keel was dropping down as the boat floated off the trailer. I got in and made sure the keel was cleated and we tried again. This time, the guys watched the keel as I lowered her into the water. Sure enough, the keel would drop down as the boat floated up. When it dropped, it would catch on the trailer and stop all motion.
This was clearly a problem that I wasn't prepared for. I winched her back onto the trailer and pulled off of the ramp. Around 1:15, thoroughly covered in sweat and salt water, I was forced to abandon the launch.
During all of this, Lori was a trooper. She helped where she could and leant support all-around. She might not have been as frustrated (or sweaty) as I was, but it was tough for her, too. I know she wanted to see me succeed.
Now I have to get Aelena into a boat yard where they can lift her off of the trailer and repair the keel. I'm hoping it's no more than a couple of weeks.
I'll keep you posted!
After thinking it over, I called the marina at Great Bay. It's inland and fed by a river so the conditions were much better. We were back in business.
We drove over and we were stepping the mast by 11 AM. The weather was brutally hot - in the 90's and very humid. I bought a chart of the bay and backed Aelena down the ramp. Just like that, she was floating . Ya-hoo!
Then CLUNK and everything stopped. She was half-way off of the trailer and wouldn't go any further. I got down in the water and tried to coax her along, but she was stopped fast. I asked a couple of guys who were waiting to launch their boats if they knew of any obstructions below the water on the ramp. None, they said, and we all gathered around trying to figure it out.
After a few more tries, I pulled her back onto the trailer and out of the water. One of the guys asked if maybe the swing keel was dropping down as the boat floated off the trailer. I got in and made sure the keel was cleated and we tried again. This time, the guys watched the keel as I lowered her into the water. Sure enough, the keel would drop down as the boat floated up. When it dropped, it would catch on the trailer and stop all motion.
This was clearly a problem that I wasn't prepared for. I winched her back onto the trailer and pulled off of the ramp. Around 1:15, thoroughly covered in sweat and salt water, I was forced to abandon the launch.
During all of this, Lori was a trooper. She helped where she could and leant support all-around. She might not have been as frustrated (or sweaty) as I was, but it was tough for her, too. I know she wanted to see me succeed.
Now I have to get Aelena into a boat yard where they can lift her off of the trailer and repair the keel. I'm hoping it's no more than a couple of weeks.
I'll keep you posted!
Friday, June 24, 2005
Cruising at last
I've been in possession of Aelena for about 5 weeks( my Newport 17 daysailer). The work has been rewarding, if sometimes difficult. Some projects that I thought would be a breeze have taken longer and been more involved than I anticipated. (Refinishing the bright-work took two weeks.) And some jobs have gone off without a hitch. (The new roller furler fit well and worked perfectly on the first attempt.)
I've spent more time and money at the West Marine store in Portsmouth than I ever did in such a short period at Woodworkers Warehouse (when they were in Portsmouth.) The checkout girl there now says ' See you tomorrow', when I leave the store.
But finally, my shopping trips are becoming a little less frequent (I haven't bought a boating supply in two days.) The boat is well-equipped and suited out for day sailing. Besides the roller furler, I've painted the bottom, refinished the brightwork, filled the holes left when the previous owner removed all of the deck hardware, installed new deck hardware, replaced all of the lines, cleaned a ton of crud out of the bilge, cleaned the mast and boom, and rubbed out the topsides with compound. She isn't going to win any beauty contests, but I don't think this boat has looked this good or been this well-trimmed in a long time.
Lori has been very patient, but I know she's getting tired of the garbage that's piling up in the garage - not to mention the piles of sailing detritus. And she went so far as to mow the lawn herself today. The pool needs some long-overdue attention and I've been completely ignoring the stuff I should be doing on the house(es). Bear with me , Sweetheart.
So, when will Aelena be ready to sail? Funny you should ask. Barring a major shift in the weather, I hope to have her on the water by 10:00 AM tomorrow. I don't know what to expect. Will she float off of the trailer like a good girl, or will I have to coax her out off with muscle and cussing? Will she sail well to windward? Will we be able to get her back into port once we're out on the ocean? And if we do, how will we get her back on the trailer? And my biggest concern - will Lori's seasickness keep her from enjoying this life-ambition of mine. I should be able to answer these questions by this time tomorrow. Stay tuned.
I've spent more time and money at the West Marine store in Portsmouth than I ever did in such a short period at Woodworkers Warehouse (when they were in Portsmouth.) The checkout girl there now says ' See you tomorrow', when I leave the store.
But finally, my shopping trips are becoming a little less frequent (I haven't bought a boating supply in two days.) The boat is well-equipped and suited out for day sailing. Besides the roller furler, I've painted the bottom, refinished the brightwork, filled the holes left when the previous owner removed all of the deck hardware, installed new deck hardware, replaced all of the lines, cleaned a ton of crud out of the bilge, cleaned the mast and boom, and rubbed out the topsides with compound. She isn't going to win any beauty contests, but I don't think this boat has looked this good or been this well-trimmed in a long time.
Lori has been very patient, but I know she's getting tired of the garbage that's piling up in the garage - not to mention the piles of sailing detritus. And she went so far as to mow the lawn herself today. The pool needs some long-overdue attention and I've been completely ignoring the stuff I should be doing on the house(es). Bear with me , Sweetheart.
So, when will Aelena be ready to sail? Funny you should ask. Barring a major shift in the weather, I hope to have her on the water by 10:00 AM tomorrow. I don't know what to expect. Will she float off of the trailer like a good girl, or will I have to coax her out off with muscle and cussing? Will she sail well to windward? Will we be able to get her back into port once we're out on the ocean? And if we do, how will we get her back on the trailer? And my biggest concern - will Lori's seasickness keep her from enjoying this life-ambition of mine. I should be able to answer these questions by this time tomorrow. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Anticipation
I have long maintained that anticipating an event is often times better than the event itself. Think about when you were young and single (if you're still young and single, bear with me) and you actually got a date, or just the phone number of someone who you were crazy about. The interim between the time of that potential future rendevous (or phone call) and the occasion itself was excruciating in a sweet, anticipatory way. Well, I've been in an extended period of that sort of anticipation for the past three weeks.
While I'm no longer young, or single (thankfully) , my soul has always been stirred at the sight of a well-designed sailboat. On the water with its spinnaker full or on a trailer in an overgrown boatyard, some vessels just elicit a sense of wonder and appreciation, even though I've only sailed a handful of times.
When I was visiting Mom's house a few weeks ago, we were heading to church and saw a boat on someone's front lawn with a for-sale sign on it. The boat caught my eye before I saw the sign. Its sheer was perfectly aligned with its bow. The port lights looked to be the right proportion for the size of the cabin. The lines, angles and scale conspired to form that rare beauty which goes beyond the eye of the beholder.
I've wanted to sail for as long as I can remember, but the prospect has always been daunting. It is a thing not to be taken lightly. Hell, just learning how to tie a sheet bend was off-putting. But this boat, somehow, made it seem accessible. Sitting there on the lawn on Chapman Avenue, I knew that I could take her out into the cold, blue, vast ocean; sail all day or longer, and then return to Rye Harbor safe-and-sound.
I slowed the car and looked at her for a long second. Mom must have noticed my interest, but she didn't say much of anything. Then, when we were coming back from mass, and I slowed to a crawl again, she made me write down the phone number. No sooner had we gotten in her front door and I was dialing the phone.
I went over and it was raining. The guy showed me around the trailer. I hopped up on deck and took a look at the cabin which was dirty and wet. But DAMN - I was hooked! I wanted to get that boat out onto Bigelow Bight that very day.
The guy who showed me the boat said that it belonged to his son. I called the owner, and before I knew it, we had agreed on a price. That was three weeks ago and I'm heading back down to pick the boat up this Saturday. I can't describe the anticipation. I am on the verge of fulfilling a life-long ambition. I hope that the reality is as good, or better than the anticipation.
While I'm no longer young, or single (thankfully) , my soul has always been stirred at the sight of a well-designed sailboat. On the water with its spinnaker full or on a trailer in an overgrown boatyard, some vessels just elicit a sense of wonder and appreciation, even though I've only sailed a handful of times.
When I was visiting Mom's house a few weeks ago, we were heading to church and saw a boat on someone's front lawn with a for-sale sign on it. The boat caught my eye before I saw the sign. Its sheer was perfectly aligned with its bow. The port lights looked to be the right proportion for the size of the cabin. The lines, angles and scale conspired to form that rare beauty which goes beyond the eye of the beholder.
I've wanted to sail for as long as I can remember, but the prospect has always been daunting. It is a thing not to be taken lightly. Hell, just learning how to tie a sheet bend was off-putting. But this boat, somehow, made it seem accessible. Sitting there on the lawn on Chapman Avenue, I knew that I could take her out into the cold, blue, vast ocean; sail all day or longer, and then return to Rye Harbor safe-and-sound.
I slowed the car and looked at her for a long second. Mom must have noticed my interest, but she didn't say much of anything. Then, when we were coming back from mass, and I slowed to a crawl again, she made me write down the phone number. No sooner had we gotten in her front door and I was dialing the phone.
I went over and it was raining. The guy showed me around the trailer. I hopped up on deck and took a look at the cabin which was dirty and wet. But DAMN - I was hooked! I wanted to get that boat out onto Bigelow Bight that very day.
The guy who showed me the boat said that it belonged to his son. I called the owner, and before I knew it, we had agreed on a price. That was three weeks ago and I'm heading back down to pick the boat up this Saturday. I can't describe the anticipation. I am on the verge of fulfilling a life-long ambition. I hope that the reality is as good, or better than the anticipation.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Springtime, The Masters, and all is well
This is the first weekend that we haven't had snow anywhere in the yard. In fact, it was 67 degrees earlier today and Lori and I spent the day working outside. Raking out the gardens, cleaning up limbs and sticks that fell over the winter, fixing torn screens in the pergola, putting away the firewood that we didn't burn and a million other small jobs that can only be done once winter has relented. Lori has clothes hanging on the line and I took my car out of winter storage. I actually have a sunburn - it feels great!
I'm watching the final round of the Masters and Tiger is in first place by three strokes. He came from a 4 stroke deficit at the close of yesterday's play. It's great golf and I'm looking forward to getting out there myself. John R. and I hit a bucket of balls yesterday and the first local course opened this weekend. It feels SOOOO good at this time of year. Can summer be far behind?
I'm watching the final round of the Masters and Tiger is in first place by three strokes. He came from a 4 stroke deficit at the close of yesterday's play. It's great golf and I'm looking forward to getting out there myself. John R. and I hit a bucket of balls yesterday and the first local course opened this weekend. It feels SOOOO good at this time of year. Can summer be far behind?
Saturday, February 26, 2005
One month on the new job
I've been working at Loftware now for approximately one month and I thought I'd post an update on my progress there.
The company is small, but growing. There are currently about 60 people including sales, marketing and the other supporting departments that make up a self-contained software development house. In this respect, it reminds me of Trinzic and Edge - both small software companies that I've worked for in Portsmouth that were bought-out by large corporations. (Platinum and Lotus/IBM, respectively.)
The Loftware culture is very much to my liking. It's a community of like-minded people working toward a common end. And because it's small, there is no room for slackers. The engineers all seem to have a lot on-the-ball. Everyone contributes and, as far as I can tell, there are no monster egos, no one is unapproachable and, people seem willing to help each other when necessary.
Management appears to have a firm grasp of the projects, problems, schedules and all of the details that make up a development effort. Because the owners of the company are right there every day making decisions and guiding the product development, they are very much aware of the challenges, efforts and contributions of each individual. I contrast this with IBM where the decision makers were isolated and had no sense as to the amount of work an individual did or did not do. Even local management was so out-of-touch that some developers would get completely overwhelmed with work while others had little to do.
I'm enjoying working with C#. There are many similarities to Java in the syntax and its object-oriented nature. It is, however, more advanced and offers some new and interesting approaches to common development problems. And, in contrast to Java, the development sandbox is much more self-contained. It is strictly a Windows environment. Thus there are fewer configuration issues, deployment complexities, multi-platform problems, etc.
To sum up, I'm thrilled to be at the new place. I like the people, I'm sufficiently challenged, the technology is very cool and the culture agrees with me. God willing, I'll be here for quite a-while.
The company is small, but growing. There are currently about 60 people including sales, marketing and the other supporting departments that make up a self-contained software development house. In this respect, it reminds me of Trinzic and Edge - both small software companies that I've worked for in Portsmouth that were bought-out by large corporations. (Platinum and Lotus/IBM, respectively.)
The Loftware culture is very much to my liking. It's a community of like-minded people working toward a common end. And because it's small, there is no room for slackers. The engineers all seem to have a lot on-the-ball. Everyone contributes and, as far as I can tell, there are no monster egos, no one is unapproachable and, people seem willing to help each other when necessary.
Management appears to have a firm grasp of the projects, problems, schedules and all of the details that make up a development effort. Because the owners of the company are right there every day making decisions and guiding the product development, they are very much aware of the challenges, efforts and contributions of each individual. I contrast this with IBM where the decision makers were isolated and had no sense as to the amount of work an individual did or did not do. Even local management was so out-of-touch that some developers would get completely overwhelmed with work while others had little to do.
I'm enjoying working with C#. There are many similarities to Java in the syntax and its object-oriented nature. It is, however, more advanced and offers some new and interesting approaches to common development problems. And, in contrast to Java, the development sandbox is much more self-contained. It is strictly a Windows environment. Thus there are fewer configuration issues, deployment complexities, multi-platform problems, etc.
To sum up, I'm thrilled to be at the new place. I like the people, I'm sufficiently challenged, the technology is very cool and the culture agrees with me. God willing, I'll be here for quite a-while.
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
How I left IBM
Okay, the checks have cleared and I can talk about my separation from IBM.
Let me say at the outset that I reached some career pinnacles in my six years at IBM. I co-authored 4 software patents, was regularly published in the industry press, presented at technical trade-shows in Germany, The Netherlands and Miami and I achieved my long-term personal goal of becoming a software developer. It was, by all counts, a successful run for me.
But at the end, like most of the engineers on my project, I was pretty miserable, and I had been for months. For a variety of reasons, work had become a nightmare, and the future looked even bleaker.
In my last three years there, I worked on several projects that were associated with the product called Lotus Workplace, and each one was worse than the last. Long hours, frequent trips to Westford and Cambridge, Mass., poorly defined deliverables, bad management and clunky technology conspired to make life hell as a Workplace software developer.
About a month ago, I started looking for another job outside of the company because I was fed up with being treated like chattel. You can only get kicked so many times before you get up and leave. I was pleasantly surprised by the number of responses I got to my resume. I interviewed at three companies within two weeks of starting my search; all of them within 15 miles of my house. (One of my primary criteria was a manageable commute.) Within a month, I had a great offer from a very interesting software company. (We'll call them xWare.) Cool technology, great opportunity to learn, small company - all of the things that I really wanted, and it's 20 minutes from home.
I was mulling it over when my IBM manager informed me that I would be required to spend three days every week in Westford. That sealed the deal for me and I knew then and there that I'd accept the xWare offer. I asked my boss what it would mean if I declined to drive down there that frequently and she responded that I would be eligible for a severance package if I wanted to leave. Cha-Ching! Once she got the paper-work together, I drove down to the Westford office for the last time to sign on the dotted line accepting the package.
I had last week and this week off before I start the new job on Monday. I'm really excited and I'm spending a good deal of my time-off reading up on C#, the programming language I'll be using. I received the IBM severance checks and cashed them Tuesday. It feels great to be on this new course. Wish me luck!
Let me say at the outset that I reached some career pinnacles in my six years at IBM. I co-authored 4 software patents, was regularly published in the industry press, presented at technical trade-shows in Germany, The Netherlands and Miami and I achieved my long-term personal goal of becoming a software developer. It was, by all counts, a successful run for me.
But at the end, like most of the engineers on my project, I was pretty miserable, and I had been for months. For a variety of reasons, work had become a nightmare, and the future looked even bleaker.
In my last three years there, I worked on several projects that were associated with the product called Lotus Workplace, and each one was worse than the last. Long hours, frequent trips to Westford and Cambridge, Mass., poorly defined deliverables, bad management and clunky technology conspired to make life hell as a Workplace software developer.
About a month ago, I started looking for another job outside of the company because I was fed up with being treated like chattel. You can only get kicked so many times before you get up and leave. I was pleasantly surprised by the number of responses I got to my resume. I interviewed at three companies within two weeks of starting my search; all of them within 15 miles of my house. (One of my primary criteria was a manageable commute.) Within a month, I had a great offer from a very interesting software company. (We'll call them xWare.) Cool technology, great opportunity to learn, small company - all of the things that I really wanted, and it's 20 minutes from home.
I was mulling it over when my IBM manager informed me that I would be required to spend three days every week in Westford. That sealed the deal for me and I knew then and there that I'd accept the xWare offer. I asked my boss what it would mean if I declined to drive down there that frequently and she responded that I would be eligible for a severance package if I wanted to leave. Cha-Ching! Once she got the paper-work together, I drove down to the Westford office for the last time to sign on the dotted line accepting the package.
I had last week and this week off before I start the new job on Monday. I'm really excited and I'm spending a good deal of my time-off reading up on C#, the programming language I'll be using. I received the IBM severance checks and cashed them Tuesday. It feels great to be on this new course. Wish me luck!
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
It's been a while
Hello. Sorry I've been remiss in posting. We've had a whirlwind couple of months and I'll try to summarize our activities here.
Christmas was fantastic. The best in recent memory. Not sure exactly why, but everything fell into place and the holiday was perfect. I think it had something to do with Jude's Christmas-Eve dinner. Man, that was good beef!
Shortly before the new year, we heard that our tenants were moving out of the Rye house. (Good luck in your new home Marcia and Michael!) That meant that we'd be stretched pretty thin until we found tenants for that house and the new one that we are just finishing renovating. On top of that, my job at IBM became very tenuous and it was clear that I'd have to find other work. Things were looking grim.
Well, last week we found a great tenant for the Rye house. A nice couple coming back East from California. They are moving in on February 1. And just tonight we rented out the Portsmouth house to a lovely professional couple who really liked it as soon as they saw it. We feel blessed to have had such fine people find us.
My last day at IBM was this past Monday - two days ago. (Details omitted pending my severance check arriving in my account. More info will be forthcoming.)
So we're starting the new year off well. It began a bit shaky, but we are cautiously optimistic.
Christmas was fantastic. The best in recent memory. Not sure exactly why, but everything fell into place and the holiday was perfect. I think it had something to do with Jude's Christmas-Eve dinner. Man, that was good beef!
Shortly before the new year, we heard that our tenants were moving out of the Rye house. (Good luck in your new home Marcia and Michael!) That meant that we'd be stretched pretty thin until we found tenants for that house and the new one that we are just finishing renovating. On top of that, my job at IBM became very tenuous and it was clear that I'd have to find other work. Things were looking grim.
Well, last week we found a great tenant for the Rye house. A nice couple coming back East from California. They are moving in on February 1. And just tonight we rented out the Portsmouth house to a lovely professional couple who really liked it as soon as they saw it. We feel blessed to have had such fine people find us.
My last day at IBM was this past Monday - two days ago. (Details omitted pending my severance check arriving in my account. More info will be forthcoming.)
So we're starting the new year off well. It began a bit shaky, but we are cautiously optimistic.
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