Sunday, August 17, 2014
August Random Stuff
This past week, without much forecasting hype, we had a hell of a blow. My sailing instructor acquaintance called me and said several or her boats came undone and that their float had been damaged. I began stewing and made some calls about my own vessel, but couldn't get any enlightenment. I got busy with office work and thought no more of it until I got aboard and saw my tool box tray had launched itself across the cabin. She must've been buckin' somethin' wikkid.
In August, the grass slows down. The lobsters pick up. On this Sunday morning, my muscles and I are grateful for the prohibition against hauling on Sundays from June 1 to August 31. There is time for a solitary walk around the southern shore. There is time to sit on June's porch with the brain trust and go over electronics, the physics of boat propulsion, and the convergence of law and old fashioned island lobbying efforts having succeeded on behalf of a good family in peril of losing their place.
There is time for just about my favorite and saddest downtime activity- getting rid of stuff. Fragments and broken bits of a different phase in life get carted off and recycled.
A plastic truck Ryan used to enjoy, but which is now bleached to a pale yellow on one side.
Kites that will not fly on account of aerodynamic inadequacies and missing spars.
My dead vhf marine radio, probably all functional except that it makes no sound.
Outgrown books and beach toys.
Broken things I meant to fix, but now know I won't.
Shards of the gazing ball that came from the mainland and was not appreciated except by me, and then blew off its pedestal probably to my spouse's satisfaction in an 80 mph gale one February. I dutifully picked up each and every sliver the next morning, which freakishly turned out to be sunny and placid and 50 degrees. That morning there was also a channel marker-meaning a 16' iron bell buoy designed to handle the North Atlantic- that had hopscotched its way up into the harbor and nestled, wobbling around in the surf, against a couple of shop wharves. I helped reset a metal chimney segment that had come loose. It was a beautiful morning.
The pickup truck filled up very quickly.
Tomorrow morning I expect most every boat will be out of the harbor early. I'll be out just a little after that, but I won't be the last.