Cured Meats and Soft Cheeses: Around Great Island

It smelled like old Wendy's fast food that lay smoldering under a Las Vegas highway overpass, somewhat wicked but rapidly desiccating into something oddly familiar and satisfying. Much like a flatulence that waffles between pride and disownership. The desert dries all things with a hint of sage and concrete, as does the mystery powder in the bottom of the Doodie Bag (but without the sage). 

I was contemplating this and other mysteries from the toilet lid of a 5 gallon bucket amongst pine needles and the quiet lapping of water on a Maine island.  The flies were already moving onto my location and unbeknownst to me and my buzzing friends, so were 10 college women (and some men) intent on preparing a campsite for a Freshman Orientation Week.

This can only mean one thing...

Sea Pearl SCOUT IS BACK OUT ON THE PROWL!

ROAAWWRR

AHOY INTREPID READERS!

I welcome you back to another wonderful and beguiling installment of GISAmateur Style!  This has been a tumultuous year of tribulation, complete with physical ailments, professional shakeups, ponderous tragedy, and mighty little sailing. (We missed the Small Reach Regatta, horrors!).  Last week however, SCOUT and I went cruising, and we did it in company and we did it well and BY POSEIDON and his graciousness and his fury we had a goddamm good time and some great sailing!

-Commodore Hazard! and his lovely sneaky fast Coquina SLIFPER
-GreenMountain John and his one-and-only lug rigged yawl Ilur in the world, WAXWING
-Cap'n Jon, of Pheonix III fame but in his newly acquired SeaPearl 21, INDIGO
-And me, Captain Callsign, with of course, SCOUT.

Our objective was the circumnavigation of Sebascodegan Island, or Great Island, which I did solo last year.  You can read this account here. We decided to do it again because it is just such a groovy trip, with varied sailing, nice little holes to duck into, and it was in good proximity to the four of us and our schedules.

DAY 1

For better viewing:

http://www.charts.noaa.gov/OnLineViewer/13290.shtml

SCOUT and I were the last to arrive at Bethel Point Marine, which has parking and a slimey ramp. Overnight trailer parking can be tough to find, and Bethel Point offers it at $6 a day per vehicle. Don't screw this up! Everyone was already in the water, sprawling around their boats and looking suspiciously content. Commodore Hazard came bouncing up the ramp and greeted me to watch SCOUT while I parked the trailer. We had little sunlight left and in a jumble of camping gear and badly stowed rigging, we set forth for our first anchorage of the night, tucked in just west of Yarmouth Island.

Cap'n Jon took this picture click for more

Commodore Hazard and SLIFPER
Cap'n Jon took this picture click for more

We rafted up for dinner, and quickly bonded over a love of literature, food, exciting beverages to go with said food, lantern light and starlight. MAYBE we talked about boats, too! We bedded down in our steeds open to the night sky and we watched the celestial dome spin about our paltry selves.  I lay for a while staring at the Summer Triangle directly overhead musing to myself that this was the first time I was seeing it this season. It was an old friend that meant camping and warm nights, mosquitoes and high adventure.  In that moment I missed the Triangle terribly and was glad to see it against the backdrop of the Milky Way. Palpable relief settled upon me, and as a few stray meteorites streaked into their hot oblivion, I fell deep asleep. We were under the stars again and life was made right.

I awoke way too early in the morning with Commodore Hazard and GreenMountain John shouting at each other across the anchorage about what a "GREAT DAY" it was. It was 6am. Maybe 5. It was early. I don't know. Some people work for a living.

We rafted up for breakfast, and planned to go around Orr before heading up the west coast of Sebascodegan.

DAY 2: THE EPIC RUN

Red arrow lower left: Lunch
Red arrow upper right: 2nd Anchorage
Yellow: Rowing
Tacking is approximate

Commodore Hazard was ready to go about an hour before anyone else.
If this is Retirement, I want some.

No one else is ready.

We tacked out of our anchorage and quickly realized we missed the slack tide.  It was now flooding, we were beating upwind, and our plan to round Orr Island was looking like it was going to take a while.  Having spent the past several months chasing schedules and moving at the speed of modern transportation, I admit my brain was not running at the same time/distance equation as wind, water, and tide. This mental disconnect with the pace was unnerving, full of internal conflict. I seriously contemplated screwing the plan to go around Orr and running down Gun Point Cove like I did last year, but Hazard kept doggedly marching south and so I did too.

We put in at Cedar Beach on the northern tip of Bailey Island to break down the rigs to get under the the bridge between Bailey and Orr Island. Cedar Beach is a touchpoint on public access to water. I have said this before and I will say it again... access to the water is part of our American Birthright, and we let it slip away to private interests at our peril!

HISTORIC first picture of SCOUT and INDIGO together!
Cap'n Jon celebrates in the background!

SCOUT and I rowing underneath the bridge.
It looks like a bunch of jumbled concrete, right?
Cap'n Jon took this picture, click for more

NO it's lincoln-log stacked blocks of granite! This didn't take any work, I'm sure.
More here

 On the other side of the Bailey Island Bridge we rowed up to Cook's Lobster House. This was fortunate because it was lunch time. It was also unfortunate because it was lunch time and the ferry from Portland just regurgitated about 120 people whose sole purpose in life was to eat at that very moment at Cook's. Fortunately, GreenMountain John was able to sweet talk Cook's into giving us take-out and they happily obliged! Cook's is now on the approved Lobster Eating-Place List here at GISAmateur! Congratulations Cook's!

After lunch, we spun out and then began one of the most incredible downwind runs I have ever had the pleasure to enjoy. The tide and the wind were at our backs, the breeze was building, we were four well matched boats, and the sun was out and we were going somewhere!

Small boat friendly beach!

WAXWING

A Rozinante... it was a real treat to watch Commodore Hazard and SLIFPER spin around her.

Hazard plays around with just the Main, and scoots along just fine.

WAXWING, SLIFPER, and INDIGO coming out from under the Mountain Rd. bridge 
and into the Ewin Narrows.

Shipshape, honest.

INDIGO rounding the corner at Doughty Point
with the Long Reach in the background.
GREAT SAILING

INDIGO

Cap'n Jon doesn't just sail
He slums it. 

Wing and wing down the Ewin Narrows

Cap'n Jon took this picture

Cap'n Jon took this picture, too!

Striking the rig down at Gurnet Straight.

In some wild way, we timed the tide exactly as planned and hit the notorious Gurnet Straight at full slack. We struck our rigs and rowed under the bridge which delineates the northern tip of Sebascodegan Island. We convened on the other side and decided to push further west and tuck in on the east side of Merritt Island and anchor for the night. This small section really became a booming reach with fast sailing and a circumnavigation of Merritt itself, which revealed to us that the "bar" connecting Merritt to the mainland is not sand but rocks, and it's also not charted. We all bumped boards but escaped any serious damage, and dropped our hooks in a little calm paradise. This is where we all couldn't agree how to best anchor and enjoy the boats and the shoreline.

GreenMountain John decided to rig an outhaul, which as my Intrepid Readers will remember, is usually some sort of exercise in frustration, and this was no exception. I swore at this moment that I am finally going to get around to getting that Anchor Buddy, which would solve a lot (not all) of our shore/tide problems. That being said, there's something humorous about watching two sailors tangle with outhauls.

SLIFPER awash in green

Something is rotten in the state of Outhaul.
Commodore Hazard attempts to rectify the issue.

Now the outhaul is hopelessly wrapped around SLIFPER's rudder.

Still working on it.  That Commodore Hazard is persistent, he is.
Hey...Who's outhaul is this, anyway?

I was forced -against my will- to take this picture of the final successful outhaul attempt.
This success came at a great cost of time, took two people, two boats, and much
editorializing from the Peanut Gallery (me).
I salute GreenMountain John for his fortitude and persistence in seeing this through.
They do work sweet, when they work.

FINALLY we can get down to eating!
Most bad-ass raft up ever.

Chef BoyardJohn just slayed this dinner for us unthankful compatriots:
Spirali and pesto sauce with smoked scallops.
Paired with his home-brewed beers.
Luxury.

Cured meats and soft cheeses.
Commodore Hazard enlightening us on the subject of boom crutches and Other Exciting Subjects.
Cap'n Jon listens politely to his superiors. (Smart, Cap'n Jon!)

DAY THREE

So it came to pass that we awoke to a more humid and less sunny day than Day 2. We decided on a humble goal of making it down to the The Basin and tucking in there for the afternoon.  We would have the tide and wind slightly against us, and we just went ahead and enjoyed the sailing it would provide.

Of course this morning after my coffee I headed onto Merritt Island to enjoy my morning constitutional. It was foggy and midweek and who would show up at 8am?, I thought to myself. I dawdled and certainly did not conceal myself, planting my 5 gallon pail right on a major walking thoroughfare from the north end to the south end of the island. I was a king, and this was my land, dammit! I leisurely finished up and turned around just to see a group of college girls (and 2 dudes or so) come walking over the landbridge from the mainland! Forty seconds later, and they would have received what I would imagine is a very unpleasant site of me with my pants bunched around my seaboots cleaning up. My timing was as close as close could be. I walked by the happy group, Doodie Bag in hand, while they cavorted over to the island where moments ago I was most vulnerable.  I'm almost regretting my great timing, I feel I robbed them of a good story to tell over the weekend to their classmates. Maybe I would have said something pithy too, just to spice up their story. (probably not)

Sailing wise, at times the wind was fickle coming through the narrows, but it picked up just fine later in the day and we made good time. We stopped for lunch for more cured meats and soft cheeses, of course. INDIGO and SCOUT had an epic tacking battle into The Basin that wowed the locals who motored over later to talk to us champion sailor types. Then we settled in for another evening of eating.  I think at this point we were beginning to feel it.

Waking up on Day 2 was a little more peaceful, less shouting and the like.

"Hey! You kids! Get off my lawn!"

GreenMountain John sculling WAXWING and showing us all how it's done.
In the background you can see Commodore Hazard preparing for his morning constitutional,
after the college group had left, of course. He either has better timing, or less sense of adventure. Not sure which is better.

Lunch time! Yeah!
This is where the immortal "Captain F***Head" (as christened by the Commodore)
motored by with a big wake bashing the Coquina's rudder onto the rocks,
forever turning "Slipper" into "Slifper" as the pintle rubbed the paint off the transom.
...And if you think about it,
SLIFPER is just so much cooler, because now there's a story.

Tied up in The Basin in triumph. This is what it looks likes, when one triumphs at life.

This is what not-so triumphant puzzlement looks like.
How do I get off the rock and into the boat
without doing what I did last year to myself?

Making the dinner, again! Tonight, it was Cap'n Jon's turn.
He added a special fiberglass ingredient to his dish after he dumped dinner into his bilges.
This does not bother sailors like us, this only makes us
more resilient! Delicious boaty taste, hmm hmm good.

DAY FOUR: FOGGY FINAL COUNTDOWN

East arrow is lunch time at Cundy's Harbor, west arrow pull-out in Bethel

During the night in The Basin we were hit with a particularly hard yet short rain shower which tested all of our tent designs.  Cap'n Jon and I have the convertible cabin that comes with the Sea Pearl, but mine is 29 years old and showing it's age and the leaks to prove it.  It is definitely time for a new one.

We all woke up around the same time and slowly made ready to ship off.  Cap'n Jon was adamant that we stop in Cundy's Harbor and scour the landscape for food, and we all thought this a fine idea and did not oppose him. Jon carries the Tome of Tomes: The Maine Cruising Guide. How he keeps it dry and in good shape I have no idea, because my MITA guide makes it about 4 trips before becoming a sopping mess.  This year, it made it three days since I left it on deck and we had the aforementioned rainshower.

Regardless, Cundy's Harbor is home to Holbrooks Lobster Wharf which is another fine dining establishment with a small-boat friendly dock. Sailing in New England can be boiled (steamed?) down to one goal: Lobster-Hopping and dammit, if it isn't good! It makes us New Englanders strong.

Preparing to leave The Basin

ANNIE, cute schooner from Greenport, NY

After some fine sailing we alight at Cundy's Harbor

Commodore Hazard makes it quite clear how he maintains discipline and order in the fleet!
This is not a man to be trifled with.  He is retired, and he rows, and his name is Hazard.
All fury, all the time.

Here I attempt to explain complicated seafood math to the flustered Commodore Hazard, and how: 
(Steamed Lobster + Steamers) = Steamed Combo.
I am quickly rebuffed by the Commodore and reprimanded, "That's not MATH, that's ARITHMETIC. I'm getting the Lobster Quesadilla."
(Cap'n Jon)

(Steamers + Lobster Roll) +2(Sea Pearl)+2(Boats of varying types) = AMAZING TRIP

4 Skippers + 1 Camera + Timer = Class Graduation Photo.
(Look at the Commodore's muscles! and that steely gaze framed by the wise beard)
Cap'n Jon took this photo

 After lunch it was time to put this circumnavigation to bed.  The wind was rising, the humidity was increasing, and we had heard ominous rumors of thunderstorms to the west approaching our location. We hopped in the boats against an increasing flood tide and onshore breeze.  Time to get moving! We quickly encountered the fog and picked our way around Cundy's Point.  We hove to, and regrouped to make sure no one was left behind.  Then, it was a quick scuttle back to Bethel Point with the wind and tide pushing us along.  Commodore looked over at me with a look of exasperation, "I can't believe it's over.... Let's do it again!" I looked at him hard... I had the food and the water to do another one, and who could fault us if we had? We were a tight group. We all sailed very well, had excellent on-the-water skills, could handle our boats, and we got along swimmingly.  I am proud to be acquainted with such top-notch gentlemen sailors and I have difficulty expressing the great time I had.

What wonderful sailing!
What a wonderful group of sailors!
What great boats!
What a coastline that we have in our backyards!
WHAT KINGS WE ARE!

SCOUT and SLIFPER
Cap'n Jon took this photo

THE END

If you found this interesting, GreenMountain John has posted a thread at Wooden Boat with another perspective and his pictures.

WOE and DUCKPUNTING (or, Dory Dan Bailing His Punt)

WOE

Intrepid Readers and Mates, ahoy. I unfortunately announce the passing of Count Gregoire de Frontenac, adventurer, philosophe, and beloved brother-in-law.  He now sails the night skies into the oblivion of which we must all follow.

He always hated this portrait

You may remember Count Gregoire from the breathlessly exciting Amateur Hour installment: BILTREK2012 (legendary) and a short follow up featuring his futuristic Ship of Tubes and Plastic Bags in Count Gregoire de Frontenac Goes On Adventure. I for one will certainly miss Count Gregoire quite deeply. And so, with him in my heart and mind, I decided to go DUCKPUNTING!  (trumpets!)

YES DUCKPUNTING! Duckpunting makes all things straight and good, and I decided what a better day to go duckpunting than the day before the memorial event! A sailing-memorial of sorts, if you will. So with Count Gregoire in heart and mind I sped down the interstate to our favorite Stereotypical New England Character, Cap'n Dory Dan! I had big plans and visions in my head of duckpunting, streaming a black pennant, putting MRS MUMBLES into distress, disorder, and discombobulation for a mourning photo op, and making a libation-ous offering to Poseidon for the safe passage of Count Gregoire across the Oceans of Tyme. (thyme?)

As I pulled into Dory Dan's homestead, I realized I forgot the black pennant.  No big deal, we can still put MRS MUMBLES into mourning and make libation-ous offerings. Dory Dan was deep in his duckpunt, fixing the broken mast step and thwart from our last punting day the autumn prior.  The air was thick with the smell of linseed oil and turps and freshly sawn pine.

It's always 1882 at Dory Dan's

Soon, we were down at the ramp and we found ourself looking at a very low river, with a very swift upcoming tide, and a stiff southerly breeze, also piping up the river.  Dan decided to row (smart) I decided to sail (cheap gratification) and after two crossings of the river I thought I had made good on the wind, but due to the current found myself right back at the boat ramp. SOoooo, I struck the rig and popped out the oars, and rowed after Dan, who now had made significant passage south downriver.

I soon passed Dan, because his plank-on-frame duckpunt had been in his hot dry shed for the past three weeks. For you non-nautical types, that means his planks were dry, and not swollen shut and so every joint was like a faucet allowing water to enter the hull. Dan was bailing his duckpunt and flipping her on her side to empty the small ocean inside. I found this quaint, then quickly realized this was going to be the theme of the day.

Dory Dan rowing into a little creek I pulled into

YAR there be water in them bilges!

Dan emptying his duckpunt. Notice the dory-built construction style of his duckpunt.
The planks overlap the stem too!

Dan was quite humored by all the bailing he had to do, but was looking for less exposed areas to row, as a boat with several pounds of water in it equals no fun. We scoped out the creek and decided to cut a large corner off our route by taking the creek and then we'd row around the next point for lunch. There was a little less current and much less wind down low below the marshbanks.

Shortcut across the marsh

We soon arrived at our lunch spot and declared it good.  However, the tide was absolutely roaring up, and the sandbar was quickly underwater, the wind was whipping, and we were continuously retreating up the banks.  I realized I was not going to be able to put MRS MUMBLES into mourning with her spars all ahoo unless I wanted to court some sort of damage or real-deal discombobulation, so instead I hastily poured a libation to Poseidon, while desperately holding on to my punt. Soon after serving the libations, we had a moment of silence, which lasted about as short of a moment as you can think, and we beat a hasty retreat up the bank.  Dory Dan left his duckpunt solidly in the water so it would "take-up a bit during lunch" because he's an eternal optimist and I'm a willing friend who will listen to such daydreams.

After lunch, Dory Dan did some more bailing.

OH Poseidon, watch after Count Gregoire with your aquatic-y goodness (Hi Neighbor!)

Duckpunt wallowing in the stream

BAILING

MORE BAILING

THE WATER COMING IN BETWEEN THE PLANKS FOR CHRISSAKE I CAN SEE IT BUBBLING IN
(super close-up picture of this available on request)

WELL. Now came the downwind sailing back to the boat ramp. This is where the pictures kind of come to an end, because it was all-hands-on-deck downwind duckpunt sailing at high speeds. We were hanging on with our teeth, oar clamped in our armpits, two hands to the mainsheets, and hoping for the best.  Nothing like the risk of hypothermia to really up the ante and the heart-rate. Duckpunts are fascinating creatures downwind, an adept sailor can heel the boat to windward and she will bear off the wind, or sheet in and bear up. It can even be hands-free. It works well, until the wind starts gusting to 20kts, and then you are in for a ride! But first:

More bailing.

We sailed back down the creeks we came up, often spinning out of control and hitting the banks. At one point I was gripping the boat for dear life on a full-on Nantucket Sleigh Ride, and turned back to hear a deep, primal hooting coming from Dory Dan. I fumbled the camera out as quick as I could as I watched him come roaring around the corner, bow in the air, water spilling in over his transom. We regrouped upriver to catch our breath and rest our arms.  Our muscles were killing us, duckpunting in strong breezes is full-body exercise.

Dan is just moving in this pic. I wish I had more to show of this. Incredible sailing.

Mud adorns our bows as evidence of multiple excursions from the planned routes into the marshbanks.

AHEM

 As we were getting ready to push off, I dropped my painter.

I dropped my painter, with current and wind pushing MRS MUMBLES upriver and away from me at a great rate of speed.  I was marooned on a Massachusetts marsh that was quickly going to be covered in cold May ocean water. JEEPERS. And it was all my fault.

Dory Dan to the rescue! He jumped high, turned his punt around, and sailed like my life meant it in pursuit of MRS MUMBLES. He grabbed the punt with his oar, and then drifted/rowed the two boats to the marsh banks opposite me and across a large creek.  I, in full sea-boots, took off at a sprint yelling over my shoulder that I would find a crossing of the marsh creek. Now, these creeks are narrow, but deep, well over 6 feet. I could only swim across, which this time of year wasn't in the cards. So run I did, which including jumping over many smaller creeks, and falling in the mud.

Dan stopped bailing, and sailed off to catch MRS MUMBLES...

Red dashes = Me, exercising my heart and lungs, running to meet Dan and boats
Red arrow = Stranded
Green Arrow = Dory Dan with boats
Blue arrow = Point of Dawning Comprehension

After a good run across a muddy marsh in my boots, Dan rowed back over to my stranded location and picked me up. In Dory Dan fashion, he chuckled, "I was yellin' to you that the creek goes for a mile you're never going to cross it." (Picture a Huck Finn type of character admonishing some adult, but in New England). Back at the boats, we headed downwind following the creek and worked our way back to the boat ramp. We absolutely flew down the creek, working upriver.  The water was very smooth, and I did the balancing/heeling/sheeting steering technique thing, and it was wild and wooly and wonderful.  A few times the boat snapped in one direction or another and I had to scramble to keep her from capsizing, but we made it to the end of the creek in an explosion of hooting and hollering. Exhilarating! This was really high-class sailing.

My hero, Dan.

Bailing. Again. More bailing.

And we're off for home! Coming down the creek

Surf Cruisng!

Dreamscape

Dory Dan inbound to the boat ramp. Yeah!

Just missing MRS MUMBLES

ASHORE! NO HYPO! I deem this day a success! 

Today was a fitting tribute to Count Gregoire de Frontenac. I didn't stream a black pennant. I didn't put MRS MUMBLES into a state of mourning and distress with her rig all ahoo. Honestly, most of the day was pandemonium so we certainly found ourselves in a distressed state by our own bumblings.  Dory Dan certainly contributed to the distress with his sailing-colander that he calls a duckpunt. At least Poseidon got his own, and MRS MUMBLES and I went duckpunting, and Dory Dan and I got to sail together and talk about Count Gregoire and others that have passed before us.

WE HAD FUN, and that honors Count Gregoire more than anything else we could have done.

Stay healthy, Intrepid Readers and thank you for reading.

Fair winds, friend and brother.

Where is IAZ,P now? Update from NYC!

Oh boy Intrepid Readers- welcome to a very special installment of GISAmateur Style where we have asked Cap'n Patrick Danger-Danger on an update and his version of events on acquiring and sailing The Most Famous Goat Island Skiff in the World-- IAZ,P. He has gladly obliged, and without further ado I present to you....

IAZ,P Moves to Brooklyn... NYC That Is

Oh man, where to begin!!?!? So I made up my mind to build a dang boat finally. Even decided what type: The famed Goat Island Skiff of story and song. I had begun to cast about for some decent building space. New York City is not a great place to seek shop space for a labor of love like a small sailboat, so my search was fruitless and plagued with daydreams of tents in the mother-in-laws yard or a temporary shop in a storefront in a rundown neighborhood...

Anybody got a shop I can borry part time for like the next 2 years or so? While I figure out how to build this boat as I build it...?

Well I am not a big fan of "The Universe Will Provide" but the way things go some times what else is there to say? You make your luck. So I hooked up with DaveL. who had recently completed his GIS and was looking for crew for BIG ADVENTURE TIME. I thought "well here's an opportunity to have a sail or two in my chosen vessel" kind of a try before you buy kinda thing. Suffice to say, I ended up aboard GIS "Chivita" bound for adventure on the Long Island Sound and most epic of all in NY Harbor!!?!

Pic from H. LaFontaine

 in very close proximity to Lady Liberty and all her attendant craft big and small. Amazing and wonderful to say the least. Cap'n Dave at the helm ( I got some too!) and we sailed to and fro near Liberty Island and then made our way up the Hudson to visit the Entrepid on Mahattan's west side. What a day! This day became more sailing and aboard Dave's brother's yacht Flor D'Luna, a fine and comfortable Beneteau Oceanis 34'.

Transit from Liberty Landing marina to her home port in Glen Cove at Brewer Yacht Yard was in the offing:

Brooklyn Manhattan and Williamsburg Bridges with deckshark.

Through the East River and Hell Gate out into the Long Island Sound... A sailing weekend that started at a public ramp in New Jersey aboard a tiny yet beautiful hand crafted wooden dinghy (GIS Chivita) and ended with a cool beverage aboard a swanky modern yacht (SV Flor D'Luna) Whoa! how did that happen??!! You make yer luck.

So the Summertime rolled and I got to go aboard Flor D'Luna a coupla more times, all the while dreaming of my GIS in waiting and my magical NYC Storefront boatyard...

Come the winter and Cap'n Rick of the good ship Flor D' Luna made it known that he would be entering the lady Flor in the Around Long Island Regatta. For those ignorants, (few and far between of course) this regatta starts in the Atlantic Ocean off Rockaway Beach, Queens NY, heading East, leaves Montauk Light to port and finishes some time later in Glen Cove Long Island, Home port of the Seacliff Yacht Club, Regatta Sponsor, and Flor's home slip as well. Would I crew? Heck yeah! Sailing day and night? Excellent! Multiple days aboard Flor D'Luna? COOOOL!!! You make yer luck. Planning commenced and soon the crew manifest was full: a salty bunch of fools the lot! Ideas and Questions and Charts and What Goes Where and EPIRB and Harness etc. etc.and all the while looking at pictures and videos of various Goats, and the one in particular that is I Am Zinea, Pteradactylus. You know the one:

No question that Callsign has truly captured the essence of something very intense and special with his builder and sailor blog about boaty exploits along the rugged and spectacular Maine coast. At least since somewhere within 2012 I had been ogling the scenery and the sailing within GIS Amateur Style: this is exactly what I envisioned I just didn't know it till I saw it here:

Spring begins to crack open a bit in 2014, and I get a message from DaveL amongst the planning and dreaming and ogling... Callsign is selling his boat! IAZ,P is in need of a new skipper as Sea Pearl Scout becomes the Adventure Realization Engine Callsign needs to fulfill further Adventure Realizing! IAZ,P is for sale!!!!???!?! Hurriedly, breathlessly, I send an email and I join a woodenboat forum. Hey Dude! I want that boat!!! Emails are exchanged and a plan begins to formulate: we will meet to look over the boat, but where? Well, it turns out that about halfway between us is a little town in Connecticut where Callsign's ancestral manse is located, complete with ancestors (very charming folk indeed) white picket fences, a town dock, you get the picture. Very Boaty.

When I arrive IAZ,P is on a trailer behind Callsign's car. After lunch and a chat with the parental units, we look her over and turn her over and "...here's this ding and that scuff..." "...rig this tie that..." and like that. Stashed her bottoms up in the grass in front of the house keeping company with a slightly sagging Aquarius relaxing into her trailer bunks.  I am bursting with amazement at my luck. Imma buy this boat from this guy!  Came time to fork over the cash so I did. What came next? Well, Callsign gave me back some of my cash and handed over a really nice bottle of rum. The good stuff! What a Prince this fellow is! A real reverse haggler. What you might call potlatch I guess in the give better than you get vein. Afterwards, a stroll to the waterfront, a coffee, and good conversation about sailing, water, life, current and tide... y'know, the important stuff. We agreed that I would retrieve the boat from the parental yard within some small space of time, (Thanks Mama Callsign!)

Well now what? I bought a boat with no place to put her!!??

Of course I had some ideas and possibilities, and certainly there are yards and marinas and mother in laws... all storage potentials (some more dubious than others) and none quite right for a fine craft such as Ms. Zinea.

Well, I go to the internet one day (as we do) searchword "small boat storage NYC" or some stupidness like that and there on the glowing screen is the website of the Sebago Canoe Club. Cool. I went down to Canarsie, Which is on Jamaica Bay in South Brooklyn to check out the facilities. I met up with JimL and Beth E. and signed up for Conditional membership. Huh. That was easy. "Yeah bring the boat on down, we'll find a place over there for her. Buy yourself a dolly." Which I did. The Brothers LaFontaine and Cap'n Paulie, (Skipper of GIS Kathleen Marie) volunteered to help load and transport IAZ,P, and get this: we cartopped her from Connecticut to Canarsie on a Saturday in late May. Full on Beverly Hillbillies action.

Hilarious and wonderful. Cap'n Paulie saw us safely down I95 til we got to his exit and sent us on our way with some positive words about the state of our tied down to the roof of the ManVan boat. JimL was at the Club when we arrived and helped us get IAZ,P off the car and onto her dolly and ensconced in the yard.

Relaxing after a rinse.

From that point on, IAZ,P has plied the waters of Paerdegat Basin and Jamaica Bay with interest and abandon, beaching for lunch, running aground, dodging jet skis and fishing boats, sailing with her buds, capsizing a coupla times intentionally and not so intentionally, and teaching me volumes about sailing and my own self in the process. So great to spend the summer on the water with my family and new friends at Sebago.

Jake the Snake gets his wade on...

Crabulator Crabulon with Mouse in the background.

 Matinicus Peapod Mouse, handcrafted by JimL. 

IAZ,P's new homie.

Lunch on the beach with the gang.

In time I crewed on Flor D'luna in the Around Long Island Regatta,

Gustavo at the helm, Such a badass. Great and willing cook.

and DaveL instigated a GIS meetup in the finger lakes at Cuyuga Lake in Central New York State. We cartopped IAZ,P there and back, again on the ManVan, and it seems she doesn't mind the upside down time rolling at 60 knots, or at least she ain't complaining...

Pic from A. Cohen

IAZ,P, Kathleen Marie, Chivita.

ManVan with IAZ,P uptop and GIS Chivita trailing aft.

What it all comes down to is this: I thought I was buying a boat and I bought a whole new lease on life. Sailing I Am Zinea, Pteradactylus has saved my life. I can be a happier, nicer, more rested, and slightly more reasonable human. At times I even move through the world with more purpose. This little boat brings everything into focus. The immediacy and presence of being on the water sailing carries over in many small ways to the rest of my time on this earth, and I am ready to get on the water as much as I can. It's almost been a year now and it's always time to go sailing.

pic from JimL

 And did I mention, We're building a boat? You make your luck.