I'm just putting this here so I can always get to it.
AFFECT/EFFECT
Affect: usually a verb meaning to influence
Effect: usually a noun meaning result or aid
Correct: If you’re a fan of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, you probably loved the special effects.
Usage tip.... Something must affect something to have an effect on it.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Sunday, December 03, 2006
My New Site
I think that poking around through the things that a person has collected throughout their life is a better way to find ideas for gifts - either for someone else or for yourself - than going to some 'big box' store and picking boxes off a shelf. It's that idea that inspired me to create a new web site: UncleBobsAttic.com. On it, I've assembled links to different items that I've used or had experience with in my life. Everything from guitars to novels to woodworking tools to watches are there. (A total of 225 links as of this writing, and still growing.) You can buy the items by following the links or just look around the site and read the stories of Uncle Bob.
And one great benefit of UncleBobsAttic.com. is that it brings together items from a variety of different web sites. Musical accessories from one site, home and hearth goods from another, books and music from a third, watches and accessories from a fourth.
So that's my plug. Let me know if you visit there and what you think.
And one great benefit of UncleBobsAttic.com. is that it brings together items from a variety of different web sites. Musical accessories from one site, home and hearth goods from another, books and music from a third, watches and accessories from a fourth.
So that's my plug. Let me know if you visit there and what you think.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Just make the damn sandwich
When I go into a restaurant and order a sandwich, I don't want to have to tell the person making it what to put on it. Just make it the way you make it. If I like it, I'll come back and order another one. If I don't, I won't. Just don't ask ME how to make the damn thing.
My Number One Gripe
My number one complaint with life in the US today is the uncontrolled noise pollution generated by motorcycles without mufflers. For some reason, riders think they have the right to infringe on the peaceful existence of the entire population by making their bikes as loud as possible. And the police just turn the other way.
Any first-year phsych major knows that a cry for attention is a sign of insecurity. Real men don't need to announce their machismo to the world. It's time the quiet majority stopped coddling these over-compensating juveniles and insist that law enforcement do something about it.
Any first-year phsych major knows that a cry for attention is a sign of insecurity. Real men don't need to announce their machismo to the world. It's time the quiet majority stopped coddling these over-compensating juveniles and insist that law enforcement do something about it.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
I Posted Some Tunes
I've been playing around with some low-cost recording software and I put a few tunes out on our web site. They're just of me on electric guitar with some half-way decent backing tracks generated from Band-in-a-Box. If you haven't already, check them out at www.pescatello.org. Just click on the Joe's Jams link. I'd be glad to get your feedback - good or bad.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
End of 2006 Summer
Well, another short season has come and gone here in the New Hampshire Seacoast. We had an especially compressed summer because June was a complete wash out. More rain this past June than any on-record. I spent the month trying to keep our basements dry, and not succeeding at all. The only sailing I did during that time was when Jude and I got Aelena out of moth-balls on Memorial Day weekend, and that was May, not June.
July was better weather-wise, but we had two rental houses become empty and we wound up working on them and then spending lots of time trying to rent them. Just today we're finally getting a tenant in the Portsmouth house after showing it since mid-July.
In August we had a micro-burst in Rye that would be hard to grasp if you weren't here to see it. Out of nowhere, a tremendous wind came down on our little town and snapped huge trees off at about 20-30 feet above the ground. We'd had a lot of rain, and the ground was wet so many other trees were uprooted. REALLY BIG TREES! Many hundreds of trees! It was unbelievable! Power lines and phone poles were on the ground all over town. You couldn't get around at all - the entire town was sealed off. Roads were blocked everywhere. The cleanup was amazingly fast - within a week almost all of the power was restored, but there is still plenty of damage to be seen where people haven't gotten to the trees on their property yet. We lost a total of 9 trees, none of which hit any of our houses, but I had to clean them up. And it took all of August and into September to do so. (Thanks for the help, John!) There are tall trees down in the woods behind our house, but I don't plan on going back in there and cutting them up.
So this summer, I didn't have the free time to go sailing that I would have liked. I got out about 8 or 9 times and hope to sail once more before I bring the boat in for the winter. (I did spend a week volunteering on Star Island, though, and I'll post another entry with my thoughts on that.) Now the pool's closed and Lori has put the winter rug and draperies out in the living room.I've started splitting firewood and we're getting ready for the cold season ahead. It's hard not to love Autumn in New England, it's what follows that's depressing.
Thanks for stopping by and reading my rantings. Hope to see you soon.
July was better weather-wise, but we had two rental houses become empty and we wound up working on them and then spending lots of time trying to rent them. Just today we're finally getting a tenant in the Portsmouth house after showing it since mid-July.
In August we had a micro-burst in Rye that would be hard to grasp if you weren't here to see it. Out of nowhere, a tremendous wind came down on our little town and snapped huge trees off at about 20-30 feet above the ground. We'd had a lot of rain, and the ground was wet so many other trees were uprooted. REALLY BIG TREES! Many hundreds of trees! It was unbelievable! Power lines and phone poles were on the ground all over town. You couldn't get around at all - the entire town was sealed off. Roads were blocked everywhere. The cleanup was amazingly fast - within a week almost all of the power was restored, but there is still plenty of damage to be seen where people haven't gotten to the trees on their property yet. We lost a total of 9 trees, none of which hit any of our houses, but I had to clean them up. And it took all of August and into September to do so. (Thanks for the help, John!) There are tall trees down in the woods behind our house, but I don't plan on going back in there and cutting them up.
So this summer, I didn't have the free time to go sailing that I would have liked. I got out about 8 or 9 times and hope to sail once more before I bring the boat in for the winter. (I did spend a week volunteering on Star Island, though, and I'll post another entry with my thoughts on that.) Now the pool's closed and Lori has put the winter rug and draperies out in the living room.I've started splitting firewood and we're getting ready for the cold season ahead. It's hard not to love Autumn in New England, it's what follows that's depressing.
Thanks for stopping by and reading my rantings. Hope to see you soon.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Star Island in Early June
It's Sunday evening and I just got back from a weekend on Star Island. I volunteered to help get things ready for the conference season which starts in eleven days. It was raining when we left Rye Harbor at 6:30 last Friday night. The seas were pretty calm, though, and the dozen or so people on the boat were fairly reserved. A few folks clearly knew each-other from previous years and they knotted together in groups while the rest of us kept to ourselves during the trip.
Once the boat docked (I've forgotten her name - sorry, Grey.), we all headed to Newton Centre hall - an oldish stone building with two fairly large rooms with wooden floors, vaulted ceilings and a large kitchen. A hot meal was waiting and Skip, the facilities manager, introduced himself and the members of the staff, most of whom were young enough to be my offspring. Despite the worsening weather, everyone was friendly and we all started getting to know each-other over a great meal of ribs, turkey, rice and homemade bread.
After dinner, each of us went to the lobby for our room assignments and for blankets and pillows. I found my way to my cottage, dropped off my duffel bag and headed out to explore.
Moving around the nooks and crannies of the island was easy to do since the place was relatively empty. I explored the old hotel Atlantic unaccompanied and I found it to be showing its age in startling ways. Gaping holes in the plaster where rain water flowed freely into interior rooms; puddles forming on wooden floors that were nowhere near external walls; water dripping from electric ceiling lights - nothing about the place was impervious to the elements. It seemed unlikely that it would last the night, let alone the whole season. But it's been there for 100 years, so maybe I was underestimating the old girl.
My room was drafty and damp and I was glad my sleeping bag was well-insulated when I called it a night at 9:30. Wind rattled the windows all night but I slept soundly and got up around 6:30 Saturday morning. The Nor'easter had picked up steam, and walking the 100 yards or so between my cottage and Newton hall was a chore. By the time I got there, I was soaked, and that is exactly how I remained for the rest of the weekend.
After breakfast I went over to the carpenters' shop to get a work assignment. Again, the walk was tough in 25 knot winds and pouring rain, and I was soaked to the bone by the time I found the place. When I got to the shop, some of the regular workers had apportioned the good woodworking jobs (building beds) and there wasn't much left for me to do. Someone mentioned that the planer wasn't working right so I opened it up and started troubleshooting the problem. I readjusted a roller that was out of parallel, greased some moving parts and it was good as new.
Working in the shop was great fun. People (myself included) would let an f-bomb fly without a second thought. Guys could be guys there and it seemed like a natural state of affairs. I couldn't help but contrast it to working in my office where I have to be careful about everything that comes out of my mouth. I'm sure there are politics in a community as small as Star Island, but I felt free of it in my short stint in the carp-shop.
For the rest of the day, I worked on sanding the beds that the other guys were building, I replaced some ceiling tiles, and did a few other jobs around the island. Every time I left the shop, the wind and rain seemed to get worse and when I retired after dinner at 8:30, I was exhausted and soaking wet. One of the Pelicans (A college-aged employee who lives on the island all summer) said something interesting and right on the money. She said that the weather itself drains your energy when it's like it was this weekend - she was right.
So I fell asleep huddled in my sleeping bag with the light on in my mildewy, drafty room with rain and wind coming in through the closed windows. And the storm just howled all night. The noise from 40 sustained knots through the night, and the cold and outright dampness were insufferable. But I slept soundly for 11 hours because I was beaten up!
Today, I worked on a couple of projects before lunch and then packed my bag in preparation for the 2:00 boat out. The rain had stopped and the wind was down to around 15 knots. We had some good-sized swells coming back and a couple of people were sick, but we arrived intact. Unlike the ride out on Friday, everyone knew everyone else and we all said heartfelt goodbyes when we went to our separate cars at Rye harbor. It was a hell of a hard, and gratifying weekend, but oh - it feels good to be DRY!
Once the boat docked (I've forgotten her name - sorry, Grey.), we all headed to Newton Centre hall - an oldish stone building with two fairly large rooms with wooden floors, vaulted ceilings and a large kitchen. A hot meal was waiting and Skip, the facilities manager, introduced himself and the members of the staff, most of whom were young enough to be my offspring. Despite the worsening weather, everyone was friendly and we all started getting to know each-other over a great meal of ribs, turkey, rice and homemade bread.
After dinner, each of us went to the lobby for our room assignments and for blankets and pillows. I found my way to my cottage, dropped off my duffel bag and headed out to explore.
Moving around the nooks and crannies of the island was easy to do since the place was relatively empty. I explored the old hotel Atlantic unaccompanied and I found it to be showing its age in startling ways. Gaping holes in the plaster where rain water flowed freely into interior rooms; puddles forming on wooden floors that were nowhere near external walls; water dripping from electric ceiling lights - nothing about the place was impervious to the elements. It seemed unlikely that it would last the night, let alone the whole season. But it's been there for 100 years, so maybe I was underestimating the old girl.
My room was drafty and damp and I was glad my sleeping bag was well-insulated when I called it a night at 9:30. Wind rattled the windows all night but I slept soundly and got up around 6:30 Saturday morning. The Nor'easter had picked up steam, and walking the 100 yards or so between my cottage and Newton hall was a chore. By the time I got there, I was soaked, and that is exactly how I remained for the rest of the weekend.
After breakfast I went over to the carpenters' shop to get a work assignment. Again, the walk was tough in 25 knot winds and pouring rain, and I was soaked to the bone by the time I found the place. When I got to the shop, some of the regular workers had apportioned the good woodworking jobs (building beds) and there wasn't much left for me to do. Someone mentioned that the planer wasn't working right so I opened it up and started troubleshooting the problem. I readjusted a roller that was out of parallel, greased some moving parts and it was good as new.
Working in the shop was great fun. People (myself included) would let an f-bomb fly without a second thought. Guys could be guys there and it seemed like a natural state of affairs. I couldn't help but contrast it to working in my office where I have to be careful about everything that comes out of my mouth. I'm sure there are politics in a community as small as Star Island, but I felt free of it in my short stint in the carp-shop.
For the rest of the day, I worked on sanding the beds that the other guys were building, I replaced some ceiling tiles, and did a few other jobs around the island. Every time I left the shop, the wind and rain seemed to get worse and when I retired after dinner at 8:30, I was exhausted and soaking wet. One of the Pelicans (A college-aged employee who lives on the island all summer) said something interesting and right on the money. She said that the weather itself drains your energy when it's like it was this weekend - she was right.
So I fell asleep huddled in my sleeping bag with the light on in my mildewy, drafty room with rain and wind coming in through the closed windows. And the storm just howled all night. The noise from 40 sustained knots through the night, and the cold and outright dampness were insufferable. But I slept soundly for 11 hours because I was beaten up!
Today, I worked on a couple of projects before lunch and then packed my bag in preparation for the 2:00 boat out. The rain had stopped and the wind was down to around 15 knots. We had some good-sized swells coming back and a couple of people were sick, but we arrived intact. Unlike the ride out on Friday, everyone knew everyone else and we all said heartfelt goodbyes when we went to our separate cars at Rye harbor. It was a hell of a hard, and gratifying weekend, but oh - it feels good to be DRY!
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Some stuff from my bulletin board
Hello,
Somewhere along the line I started collecting sayings, poems and anything written that struck a chord with me. When Lori recently refurbished my music room, she suggested that I no longer lived in a dorm and that I take down the two bulletin boards that I had on the wall filled with these artifacts of my life from when I left home up to the present. When I took them down, I came across stuff I hadn't read in years, decades really. Some of it wasn't even legible any more, but I thought I'd post the rest here as a way to preserve those memories. They appear below, and while some might seem nonsensical, every one of them has some meaning and comes from a particular point in my adult life. (This is starting to sound self-indulgent, so I'm just going to get started.)
"Fortune sides with him who dares." - Virgil
"Death finds us amid our playthings, snatches us as a cross nurse might do a wayward child from all our toys and baubles." - An Old Play
"As long as you are honest and kind, you don't have to be timid about doing what you want to do." - Miss Manners' Mom
"All that I know I learned after I was 30." - George Clemenceau
"To find out a girl's faults, praise her to her girlfriends." - B. Franklin
"If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business because we'd be cynical. Well', that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down." - R. Bradbury
"Not a day passes over the earth, but men and women of no note do great deeds, speak great words and suffer noble sorrows." C. Reade
"In art, nothing worth doing can be done without genius; in science, even a moderate capacity can contribute to a supreme achievement." B. Russell.
"In all good music, there is that element of tension and release - whether it's done with dynamics or harmony or even theatrics. And you don't get it by playing it safe all the time." Steve Khan
"Don't look down." David Bowie
"So try it and see." Herman Wouk
"Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth." Alan Watts
"To understand all is to forgive all". (Not sure)
"A funny thing about life - if you refuse to accept anything but the very best, you very often get it." W. Somerset Maugham
"Happiness makes up in height what it lacks in length." Robert Frost
"How I long for a little ordinary human enthusiasm. Just enthusiasm - that's all. I want to hear a warm, thrilling voice crying out 'Hallelujah! Hallelujah! I'm alive!" John Osborne
"Grace is the absence of everything that indicates pain or difficulty, hesitation or incongruity." William Hazlitt
"There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that h emust take himself, for better or worse." Ralph Waldo Emerson
"The only real failure in life is failing to try." Verna Noel Jones
"Uncertainty and mystery are energies in life. Don't let them scare you unduly, for they keep boredom at bay and spark creativity." R.I. Fitzhenry
"In the midst of great joy, do not promise anyone anything. In the midst of great anger, do not answer anyone's letter." Chinese proverb
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I - I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." Robert Frost
One mo to go
Two do da sho
Three fo yo + me
Four da yak I see
Greg Baier
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
John Gillespie Magee, Jr.
Somewhere along the line I started collecting sayings, poems and anything written that struck a chord with me. When Lori recently refurbished my music room, she suggested that I no longer lived in a dorm and that I take down the two bulletin boards that I had on the wall filled with these artifacts of my life from when I left home up to the present. When I took them down, I came across stuff I hadn't read in years, decades really. Some of it wasn't even legible any more, but I thought I'd post the rest here as a way to preserve those memories. They appear below, and while some might seem nonsensical, every one of them has some meaning and comes from a particular point in my adult life. (This is starting to sound self-indulgent, so I'm just going to get started.)
"Fortune sides with him who dares." - Virgil
"Death finds us amid our playthings, snatches us as a cross nurse might do a wayward child from all our toys and baubles." - An Old Play
"As long as you are honest and kind, you don't have to be timid about doing what you want to do." - Miss Manners' Mom
"All that I know I learned after I was 30." - George Clemenceau
"To find out a girl's faults, praise her to her girlfriends." - B. Franklin
"If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business because we'd be cynical. Well', that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down." - R. Bradbury
"Not a day passes over the earth, but men and women of no note do great deeds, speak great words and suffer noble sorrows." C. Reade
"In art, nothing worth doing can be done without genius; in science, even a moderate capacity can contribute to a supreme achievement." B. Russell.
"In all good music, there is that element of tension and release - whether it's done with dynamics or harmony or even theatrics. And you don't get it by playing it safe all the time." Steve Khan
"Don't look down." David Bowie
"So try it and see." Herman Wouk
"Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth." Alan Watts
"To understand all is to forgive all". (Not sure)
"A funny thing about life - if you refuse to accept anything but the very best, you very often get it." W. Somerset Maugham
"Happiness makes up in height what it lacks in length." Robert Frost
"How I long for a little ordinary human enthusiasm. Just enthusiasm - that's all. I want to hear a warm, thrilling voice crying out 'Hallelujah! Hallelujah! I'm alive!" John Osborne
"Grace is the absence of everything that indicates pain or difficulty, hesitation or incongruity." William Hazlitt
"There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that h emust take himself, for better or worse." Ralph Waldo Emerson
"The only real failure in life is failing to try." Verna Noel Jones
"Uncertainty and mystery are energies in life. Don't let them scare you unduly, for they keep boredom at bay and spark creativity." R.I. Fitzhenry
"In the midst of great joy, do not promise anyone anything. In the midst of great anger, do not answer anyone's letter." Chinese proverb
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I - I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." Robert Frost
One mo to go
Two do da sho
Three fo yo + me
Four da yak I see
Greg Baier
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
John Gillespie Magee, Jr.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
How I know Spring isn't far off
In no particular order...
1) I haven't seen a ship in Portsmouth unloading mountains of road salt in weeks.
2) The Water Country sign is lit up at night advertising 2006 season passes.
3) The sun is up when I leave for work AND when I get home.
4) I received my application for a spot in Rye Harbor for Aelena for 2006.
5) Sign-up has begun for Star Island summer conferences.
6) The bulbs that Lori has in jars and vases around the house are starting to show signs of life.
7) Large clumps of cat hair are appearing frequently all over the carpets.
8) Lent is almost here.
9) The boat registration is due.
10)Our wood pile is almost gone.
1) I haven't seen a ship in Portsmouth unloading mountains of road salt in weeks.
2) The Water Country sign is lit up at night advertising 2006 season passes.
3) The sun is up when I leave for work AND when I get home.
4) I received my application for a spot in Rye Harbor for Aelena for 2006.
5) Sign-up has begun for Star Island summer conferences.
6) The bulbs that Lori has in jars and vases around the house are starting to show signs of life.
7) Large clumps of cat hair are appearing frequently all over the carpets.
8) Lent is almost here.
9) The boat registration is due.
10)Our wood pile is almost gone.
Monday, October 31, 2005
October Bonfire
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.
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.
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.
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