7 July's raft up

On 7 July we went overnight on the boat for the first time. We met in an excellent little cove and tied up to Rettsie and Ceol na Mara. Very cool. We watched the sun go down, drank some Painkillers, and ate a good hot dinner (an impromptu potlock on Rettsie - Jack BBQed, we had pasta and home made sauce, and Kevin and Loretta had the rest).

On a nearby raft were That's All!, Njord, and Wild Blue.



The 'Wing is lookin good here!









Redwing, Rettsie and Ceol na Mara









Classic Great South Bay summer sunset.









This boat came into the cove, cruised around for a second and then dropped anchor to our north. The old salt in command promptly went below and we didn't see him again until lunch the following day. Great old boat!

Progress Report

They said it couldn't be done. Redwing laughs at such silly, and feeble-hearted warnings.

After pricing out a stern pulpit at around $1000 dollars (yes, that's right), I decide to do it myself. To give you an idea of what I am talking about, take a look.

This is the bashed up stern pulpit that came with the boat.

The stern rail establishes the after-deck, provides strength and positioning for the lifelines, and allows you to mount lifesaving gear like a BBQ. And a throwable Life Ring.



This picture shows some other Redwing sporting the salty, double life ring look.







Here's a better picture, but this stern rail has slightly different fitting than I planned or wanted.



SO. I borrowed a pipe bender from a friend of mine, bought some stainless steel tubing and fittings, and got set to do some bending.

It came out perfect. Unfortunately I needed to make a joint because the tubing was too short. I expected that much bending to consume the 6' length in no time, but I wasn't sure how I would join the two pieces. I managed to make it so the two pieces join underneath the T-fitting. You'd never know by looking at it that it's two pieces.

I also made some new stanchion posts (really as simple as taking a 6' length and by the simple alchemy of hacksaw school turning it into three 2'lengths).

There were some complicated moves in this project, but I won't bore you with the details other than to say I had to tear some of the tubing with a hack saw (step one), a vise (step two), and a pipe wrench (three). Sweet. When the Troubles come I'll be able to make some very fearsome Voulges.

So then, wanting to be able to rig the lifelines, I set about getting the bow pulpit rigged. This had taken a beating in the accident, as shown here.

More pipe bending and brute, manly force made it look pretty much brand new. I even amazed myself. It's a little crooked, but hey man, not like it was before. AND the boat is, after all, nearly 40.

Jack came by and helped me mount the bow pulpit (I was crawled up in that anchor locker again, fitting bolts onto the bottom of screws.) and we discussed lifeline and roller-furling line strategery.

After he left I rigged the lifelines as best I could. I still have some minor adjustments to make on the length of the extending pieces where the lifelines hook into the stern rail, but it's looking like it's going to work out.

There is still a lot of work to be done (an endless amount of washing and waxing and sanding and varnishing) but every day the boat is looking closer to my Ideal, and even now you'd be hard pressed to figure out that it was in an accident at all.

The lesson here is that you can do most of the work on these kinds of projects yourself. There are enough people, books, websites, and forums to help you with most of the tasks, no matter how complicated. Certainly, I have had a lot of help and gotten a lot of advice. Don't be intimidated! What's the worst that could happen? You mess it up and try it again. Or get some professional help.

I'll post pictures of what's been fixed soon. And I owe you all some pics of the raft up in Hemlock Cove.

Race Committee. 12 July 2007. 1930.

Thanks to Crumbolst and Uncle Jack who came out to help. We sure needed it.

We left the dock at 1830 and set up the starting line pretty quickly. Usually the idea is to have the first mark of the course directly upwind from the starting line, so the boats have to tack back and forth to get there. Unfortunately, the wind was coming from the northwest, so we decidedto have a downwind start (very cool because they would have hoisted spinnakers at the start line and had a nice long leg).

Then about two minutes before the first gun (a horn, actually), the wind shifted so as to be the traditional, reliable SW that we have during the summer here. So we postponed the race, moved the boat to establish a new starting line, and we started the race. Three boats went over the line early and two came back to restart (the third boat, having not returned behind the starting line, was assessed a 30 minute penalty).

None of this could have been done with solely my own brain power. It was one of those nights that we were lucky to have Jack onboard, because the conditions and the smaller details of race management would have quickly overwhelemed my feeble experience.

Then we dined on fried chicken and thick cut french fries. And some ice cold beverages. Uncle Larry came by in Relentless.

We finished the race without fanfare or drama and cleaned the boat up for the return to the the dock and the post-race festivities.

But.

The engine wouldn't start. Not even a clicking over of the starter.

So, earning some more Saltiness, we sailed home. Ordinarily no big deal, tonight it was a sketchy proposition. We had to retrieve our anchor and the mark (the buoy that makes the second end of the start line). Then we had to sail into the creek which is in a wind shadow when we have a SW wind.

We tip-toed into the slip with some help from the alert and able-bodied crew. It was one of those situations where explaining what had to be done would have been
burdensome and distracting. Everyone was focused and poised for action.

We earned our beers. And our sleep.

sunset! from the Redwing

Went out with Alli for a look at the sunset. It was quite spectacular. We got some great pictures but nothing compared to what it really looked like, of course. Just sittin' on the foredeck of the boat, with my girl, drinking a beer, watching the sun go down. A perfect evening.