Ocean
Watch
Friday, July 22, 2005
Not too busy to take on
another boat
While sitting in a doctor's office recently, a
magazine article about the pace of life in the United States caught my
eye. In spite of all our labor-saving devices, the piece said, countless
Americans feel they are too busy to enjoy their lives. But slowing down
is hard for a lot of people; they don't know what to give up.
The writer had some suggestions. No. 1 on his list: Sell the boat.
This article came to mind last week as I stood on the deck of a sailboat
in Lahaina Harbor and stared up at its rigging. I was dirty,
sweat-soaked, anxious and already exhausted from the to-do lists in my
pockets.
I'm out of my mind, I thought. I already have a boatload of work to do
on our 37-foot ketch, Honu, which I sailed to Tahiti last spring and
then left there. Having the boat in French Polynesia is fine for sailing
adventures, but maintaining her systems and arranging repairs from here
is a challenge all its own.
But if we leave Honu's slip in the Ala Wai Boat Harbor empty for more
than a year, which is the current plan, we'll lose it. And this is
Honu's permanent home.
The answer to our dilemma came recently in the form of a run-down but
fundamentally sound boat called a Ranger. We decided to purchase the
Ranger and gradually fix it up. The rub was this: The boat was in
Lahaina, and the seller would not deliver it to Honolulu.
Nuts. After all my big talk about being a boat captain, I now had to
sail a boat with ragged rigging and broken instruments across two Hawaii
channels in seas whipped white by summer trades.
I offered two of my best sailor friends one-way air tickets to Maui and
a sailboat ride home. Never ones to pass up a sailing adventure, they
accepted.
The good news is that Rangers are fast and well built. The bad news is
that this one had been neglected for years, and nearly all its systems
were defunct. "If we get this boat to the Ala Wai with the mast still
standing," my friend Gerard said as he reinforced the rusty wires with
ropes, "we'll have done a fine job."
After spending an uneasy night with the resident
rodent, which explained the box of rat poison under the sink, we rose at
5, and I backed the boat from its Lahaina mooring.
Oops ... the controls didn't work the way I expected, and the boat
fishtailed. Since I didn't hit anything or foul the propeller, we
declared the launch a success and headed toward home.
This was my first channel crossing on a boat other than Honu, and I
found some things different, some the same. Honu is a high, dry boat,
but this one's low, rear cockpit let in the waves, salting the grapes
and soaking the crew.
Sailing was similar, though. The boat glided smoothly down those big
waves the entire glorious day, and when I drove her into the Ala Wai
Harbor 13 hours later, the mast was still standing. We were three tired
but happy sailors.
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Scott at the
Wheel |
Mission Accomplished |
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Like a lot of people, Craig and I are sometimes too
busy. But sell the boat? We just bought another one.
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