Midnight: A Day On The Water
I was pulling on my softball gear when the phone rang on Saturday, Neil was on the other end, and said his brother J.R. had called about the possibility of sailing in the afternoon. "Did you already make plans to play softball?" he asked.
"Forget it, I'm in," I told him, and quickly (and literally) changed gear. I had already packed my sailing bag the night before on the off chance we might be sailing, so I was ready to roll. It was sunny and 71 here in the city, but after checking the National Weather Service for the coastal marine forecast I thought it might get brisk on the Sound later in the afternoon, so I packed a long-sleeve shirt and a fleece-lined sailing jacket and set out for Penn Station and points East.
Neil met me at 75th and Lex and we hopped in a cab and high-tailed it to Penn Station and the 2:19 to Douglaston, talking sailing the whole way out. It's a short walk from the station to the dock, and we admired the beautiful properties along the route, with tall maples, oaks and dogwoods lining the quiet street, and a quaint little Japanese Tea Garden just across from the Yacht Club. Beautiful. Also beautiful was the day, as we lounged at the dock awaiting the arrival of the others and I snapped a few preliminary shots of Neil, and a Seagull bringing take-out home for the family.
Oh boy, I LOVE these things! (Click to Enlarge)
Roman soon arrived and we helped him unload the supplies he'd generously picked up on the way, and then Neil's brother J.R. arrived with his daughter Caitlin, and we were ready to sail. We climbed aboard the launch and Justin ferried us to "This Is It," a nicely appointed C&C 35 owned and skippered by Rob S., as friendly and jovial a skipper as you could meet. There were four in our party, and we were welcomed aboard by Rob and his son, Derek, a bright and energetic young man, with handshakes and smiles. Once aboard I made my way belowdecks to stow my gear and climb into the auto-inflating SOSpenders brand Type-V PFD (Personal Floatation Device) with built-in harness I just purchased online from Sailnet.com. After the sad loss of Jamie Boeckel during the annual Block Island Race over Memorial Day weekend, I've decided that if it could happen to a professional sailor like Boeckel, it could certainly happen to me. Boeckel was knocked unconscious and overboard when the spinnaker pole broke...
during a headsail change in high winds. I don't know if a Type V would have saved him, but an auto-inflatable will generally float an unconsious sailor face up while the crew performs the man-overboard drill and returns to pull him out. So, I will wear the Type V; its only a minor inconvenience, and once donned it is soon forgotten.
Back up on deck I made a visual inspection of the running rigging to familiarize myself with the boat, examining the mast and boom, and the various halyards leading into and out of the mast, matching one end with the other to determine which halyard served what purpose. We had a slight snag (literally) when hoisting the mains'l, as the halyard was bunched and jammed behind the block at the foot of the mast, and would not release; as a result we couldn't raise the mainsail. We monkeyed around with it a little bit, taking care not to pull too hard on anything (like Jim Pinno always says, if you have to use too much force something's wrong--sailing is supposed to be fun), and finally the halyard pulled loose from the block. We raised the main, cast off the mooring lines, and ran downwind toward open water.
On the way out we passed several local boats known to our mates, and Derek led the assault team, launching water-balloon broadsides at these unsuspecting crews with tact and precision. Well done, Derek! A special ahoy goes out from Derek to his good friends Matt, Mike, Alex, Kelsey, Angelica, and the Cool Twins--Vico & Gemma. And oh, yeah, hey Joe and Marc!
Once we hit open water Rob called for the cruising spinnaker, J.R. pulled it from the cargo hold belowdecks, and we rigged and hoisted it, watching as its brilliant red, white and blue surface filled with wind. Neil manned the helm and steered us on a run, with Caitlin as his navigator, and Roman and I taking turns trimming the spinnaker. Roman trimmed port side for the first leg, and then we jibed to a starboard tack and I took up the spinnaker sheet from starboard, taking Rob's advice and wrapping an arm around the shroud for safekeeping. And too, the sailing gloves I'd brought were belowdecks in my bag, so J.R. generously offered up his own, and they were indispensible (and way better than what I had brought with me, which were an old pair of tackified Neuman gloves I've been wearing in my football league for years. When the fingers wear through on those they make great sailing gloves--but not as great as real sailing gloves--which J.R. had--fingerless at the first joint, with rough-hewn leather palms for tailing and trimming.)
We held that starboard tack for a good bit, and Neil made some turkey and swiss heros (no one makes them better) and we had a little lunch there in the cockpit, digging the sun and the waves and the groove. Perfect. I go down looking for something soft to drink and low and behold, there in the cooler belowdecks, along with the case of Heineken, are 3 bottles of Vanilla Coke. I look at Neil.
"Dude, there's Vanilla Coke in here."
"No Way."
"Way."
Turns out Roman, when he was getting the Heineken, remembered that I was drinking Vanilla Coke the last time we sailed, and bought some of that in addition to the beer. Later on, when Neil and I were coming up the dock after the sail, I said to him "how about that Roman, picking up Vanilla Cokes for me.
"He's a great guy, that doesn't surprise me," Neil said. "What surprises me is that he remembered!"
Anyway, we sailed for about 2 hours and it was time to turn around and head for home, so Rob and J.R. prepared to douse the spinnaker--accomplished by pulling the dousing sock back down over her, quick and neat. Rob asked me if I wanted to take the helm during this operation, which I gladly did, bearing off onto a dead run while the main was loosed, blanketing the spinnaker to tame the wind out of her and make her easier to bring down. When the spinnaker was in Rob had me turn back, so I steered to starboard and headed up while Rob and J.R. unfurled the genoa and we were close hauling back toward the harbor, heeling nicely into the wind in the brisk twilight of early evening.
Rob and J.R. shared some stories of past racing exploits, and we listened as they planned their annual 3-day race around Long Island scheduled for (I think) sometime around Labor Day. I mentioned to Neil that we should try and get onto a crew for that race, and chances are if the opportunity develops--we will. I sat on the bow pulpit during the last leg into the harbor, one of my favorite perches on a boat, and when we got close Rob kicked over the screw and furled the jib as we motored into the harbor. We picked up the mooring ball, fastened the halyards, tied down and covered the mainsail, and J.R. put on the finishing touches by flemishing the lines. Dan retreived us in the launch, and we thanked Rob and Derek for their friendship and hospitality and said good-night, and J.R., Caitlin, Roman, Neil and I convened at the restaurant by the train station to hang out and preview the digital pics while Neil and I waited for the 8:51 back to the city. It was a great day on the water with some great people, most informative and memorable, and I hope we can do it again as the summer goes along. And, now that you've read this far, you might as well check out the rest of the PHOTOS.
Posted by cronish at June 10, 2002 01:09 AM