Row, Row, Row Your Boat

It’s been said that a boat is a hole in the water into which you pour money. In fact the word “boat” itself is said to stand for, “Bring Out Another Thousand.” To this I would like to add that a boat is also a diabolical invention designed to make large amounts of time simply disappear into thin air.

With the able help of Kathy, my son and I have been working on his twenty-seven foot sailboat, Dreamer, since early April and a firm end still isn’t in sight. A few years ago when Don Jr. first bought the boat we knew it was a fixer-upper to say the least. What I didn’t know at the time was that there is a very good chance that this is the very boat that “Eric the Red” sailed on his famed voyage to Greenland. I’m not saying that Dreamer is old, but the discovery of Rune stones in the ballast has given me some concerns.

I have just returned from another day at the marina where we were attempting to replace some leaky windows and finish repairing some damaged fiberglass. The end of this seemingly endless project seemed almost in sight when my son, somewhat foolishly, suggested that I read the instructions on the marine caulk we were about to use. In general, I vary rarely bother with those pesky lists of dos and don’ts that manufacturers tend to clutter up their labels with. I always feel that if something is so complicated that I need to read how to do it, it’s better left to the professionals (or Kathy). This is especially true if it has anything to do with the kitchen or the laundry,

However, in this case, since we were aboard the boat and my son is, after all, the captain, I figured it could do no harm to read at least the first few lines. Feigning interest I glanced at the label. Unfortunately, there in large print, in fact in big bold large print and underlined, right there near the top where you couldn’t miss it was the following warning. “Do not use if over one-hundred degrees.” Now normally this wouldn’t deter me from forging right ahead regardless of the outdoor temperature (which happen to be in the low nineties) but the tube had been laying out in the full sun for quite some time and was nearly too hot to hold.

Suddenly we knew. Our plans for replacing the windows and finally stowing all our gear back aboard were not going to come to fruition. Our dreams of finally sailing majestically up to our mooring at the New Haven Yacht Club this weekend were dashed on the rocks, much like the schooner Hesperus on that fateful winter’s night. Visions of fellow club members lining the rail and cheering as we rounded the point and sailed past New Haven Light melted like the ice on the deck of the Titanic. Yes, we knew that yet another week would pass before we could cast off one last time from our prison (berth to some) to sail away, free for the summer.

In all fairness, this state of affairs is somewhat our fault. If it weren’t for my son’s knowledge of technology and love of gadgets we could have been at sea a while back. It took quite a bit of time and effort (and his money) to convert Dreamer into the “R2-D2” of sailboats. When we finally do cast off our lines, if all goes as planned, she will be able to navigate and steer herself anywhere we wish. She will be able to respond to changes in the wind on her own and she will know the depth of the water for miles ahead.

The only thing she won’t be able to do is to select a cold brew from the cooler and serve it on deck. Fortunately we have our favorite galley wench, Kathy, to do that. Due to her extraordinary culinary skills we long ago decided that Kathy was by far the best choice to man the galley while underway.

So, weather permitting, my son and I will again be down in Branford with our work-clothes on in the morning. As far as mowing my lawn goes, I’m checking farm catalogs for the best deal on sheep. Not only will they keep my yard in shape but a good lamb dinner on a crisp winter’s evening will taste very good. After all, when you have a giant time vacuum sucking the summer away, there is just so much you can do.