You know how the greatest toy for a child is an empty cardboard box? The mariner’s equivalent must be a bucket. In our case, this little beauty:
Note the compact yet capacious size, the built-in handles, the bendyness. We’ve used it just about every day and we’ve only had it for a week.
On Monday we climbed to the top of Mt. Battie, just outside of Camden. It’s billed as “the highest peak on the mainland North Atlantic seaboard”, which is kind of stretching it for honors, but the views were stunning.
We’re off!
We managed to pull away from the docks on Saturday around lunchtime after the windlass was repaired. Naturally, the exact moment we were ready to pull away — a tricky maneuver as we were positioned closely between two huge, expensive-looking yachts, and the wind was blowing us firmly back into the dock — three Englishmen who were wandering about looking at boats stopped to chat. So there we stood, engine rumbling, going on about how fair Exit’s hull was and yes, she’d come across the Atlantic on her own bottom many years earlier. They were very nice, but once they learned we were about to shove off on the start of a year-long trip, they decided to stay. And spectate. Oy.
Drew kept his cool and after a few tries we ended up backing out and away instead. No harm no foul.
Yesterday I remarked to Drew that the older I get, the less patience I have for stuff that doesn’t work. Computers especially, but any gee-whiz gadget that sucks up more time than it saves? Drives me bananas. “We might be on the wrong trip then,” he said.
We’re not. But I’m glad he reminded me that on boats, everything breaks. Repeatedly.
The sorting and reloading process has continued all week but we’re nearly there. More tedious, though, has been discovering things that no longer work. The VHF radio, for example. The morning after we moved aboard (Tuesday! yay for living aboard!) we turned it on to listen to the weather … and nothing happened. After some troubleshooting Drew ended up going to the top of the mast and replacing the VHF antenna.
Lyman-Morse isn’t primarily a service yard — they’re mostly known for building custom sailboats and powerboats. They recently built Kiwi Spirit, a 63-foot yacht that Stanley Paris used to attempt a non-stop, solo circumnavigation sail — at age 76.
© 2024 SV EXIT
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑
Recent Comments