November 13, 2011

“There is nothing- absolutely nothing-
half so much worth doing
as simply messing about in boats.”
-Ratty – Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

The crew returned early this morning from delivering the boat to Haverstraw from Essex, CT.  I was itching to go up and visit our new boat, so I packed up some cleaning supplies and drove up.  I got my security card from the marina office and made my way down the dock.  There were very few boats left in the water as it is so late in the season.  It was kind of strange to be walking down a dock not knowing where our boat was.

I saw a boat on the left that was very clearly a liveaboard.  There was a man tinkering around in the cockpit amongst fishing nets, hanging lanterns, solar panels, a wind generator, and other telltale signs of life aboard.  I stopped to introduce myself, feeling like a member of his community already.  His name is Richard and he lives aboard with his wife.  We chatted for awhile and then I continued down the dock.  Already, I feel the slower pace of life sinking in.  It was nice to stop awhile and shoot the breeze with Richard instead of bee-lining my way to the boat to “get started”.

Suited up for the chilly day during the marine survey

I got to the boat and couldn’t believe that I was looking at our very own boat.  I felt protective and couldn’t believe that it had been left all day with just four lines keeping it tied to the dock.  I climbed aboard and unlocked the hatch with our key.  The hatch felt salty, so before I even went down below, I cleaned the companionway, the hatch, and all the tracks (this might not come as a huge surprise to those who know me).

Once down below, I looked around as if getting to know someone I knew was going to be a good friend at some point.  It reminded me of the first time we went into our house for the first time after the purchase closing.  I began to clean the boat, lovingly taking care of her, getting to know all the nooks and crannies.  I discovered a storage area I hadn’t seen during the survey.  I actually said, “Yay!!!” –out loud-, even though I was by myself.  It was like finding an extra gift behind the tree, after you opened all your other gifts.  Storage on a boat is S C A R C E.  Every square inch of space will be used and cherished, so finding this extra little space was amazing.

It was a precious, lovely afternoon, messing around on our new boat.  I will never forget those first few hours I had alone with her and know she will never look quite the same to me again.

For my precious subscribers (thank you, thank you!), just a few more old journal entries to publish and then your email will be left alone for awhile!

November 12, 2011

The Delivery Crew (Chris, Mark, Tom, Riesling, Bryson)

Yay!  We closed on our boat, obtained boat insurance (count your lucky stars that I will not be sharing THAT story with you), and arranged for a slip at Haverstraw Marina, which is just north of Nyack, on the Hudson River.  Our new boat was in Essex, so we needed to move it from there to her new home, and we needed to do it before it got any colder!  Finding a good weather weekend that worked for our crew was difficult, though not for a lack of enthusiastic volunteers (thanks to Erica’s Dad and Frank who also offered to help!)  Finally, the stars seemed to align and we were ready to take her home.

Porter and I drove the delivery crew up to Essex, CT early (really early) Saturday morning.  It was a brilliant, crisp morning and the drive was full of excitement.  The crew was Chris, Bryson, Riesling, Tom (Chris’ brother), and Mark (our friend from Cornell).  We loaded up the boat with food and supplies and they set off down the Connecticut River for a 20 hour sail (not a 3 hour tour on the SS Minnow, but keep that in mind…).

Patronus is ready to move to her new home…

Porter and I took pictures of their departure and then drove down to the mouth of the river, where it meets the Long Island Sound.  When they went past, we took a few more pictures and we waved good-bye.  We drove all the way home and had some lunch.

Then Chris called and I could tell by the tone of his voice and the howling wind in the background that things weren’t going too smoothly.  He told me I might have to come pick them up, that he was considering going back.  The combination of higher than forecasted winds, huge chop (large waves), and a strong easterly current (they were travelling west towards NYC) was creating conditions that Chris couldn’t remember ever facing in his 30+ years of sailing.  He was upset that the kids were on the boat and just wanted them to be safe.  Everyone was feeling sick from the motion and their progress was little better than “backwards”.

Calmer moments. Chatting with Uncle Tom.

I found their location on a map and called local marinas to see if I could find someplace for them to dock.  In the meantime, Chris decided that he would try to get the boat south to the north shore of Long Island, where there might be some protection from the wind, waves, and current.

He called me an hour later and said that they got to the north shore of Long Island and it was a little better going.  He planned on sticking it out a few more hours and then checking in with me.  A few hours later, we talked and I checked his progress on the map.  They were close to Port Jefferson and making better time.  The slow progress meant that they would have to negotiate Hell’s Gate (the East River entrance near Manhattan) in the middle of the night.  My dad would be horrified, but Chris felt confident that they could do it.

The view from the East River

Sure enough, the current slacked, the wind died down, and once out of the Long Island Sound, the East River was calm.  They rounded the southern tip of Manhattan at around 0200, headed north up the Hudson River, under the George Washington Bridge, the Tappan Zee Bridge, and into the Haverstraw Marina at 0600 on Sunday.

Dawn on the Hudson River: almost there…

Like all distance sailing, the fear, seasickness, exhaustion, and near insanity was gone by the time they got into their cars to come home.  Chris, Reese, and Bryson walked in the house with all smiles.  They were proud of their accomplishment and courage.  I was proud of how Chris handled the unexpected conditions.  Reese and Bryson were excited about discovering Hot Pockets (classic distance sailing food: handheld, easy to heat up).  I explained to them that they really don’t taste as good when you aren’t cold, wet, and miserable (on top of being completely horrible for you!).

“Whatta ya gonna eat? HOT POCKETS!”

It was kind of a crazy maiden voyage for our new boat, but Chris and she worked well together and now we have a cool story to tell!

November 11, 2011

Chris and Erica on board their first sailboat.

We bought a boat today!  How wonderfully auspicious that we closed on 11/11/11!  I just want to drive up to Essex right now and visit her!  Thank you, boat, for finding us.  Take care of us on our journey.