Shipocalypse

We went sailing on Saturday with friends on board. They were a good crew. Winds at launch were 18 gusting to 20 knots and we had an exciting ride to North Key with the main sail reefed. Because the wind was kicking up, the fish were down and so were the turtles. After lunch we sailed around to Gomez Key and the wind died down and the fishing began. At Gomez Key there were a couple of dozen oystercatchers flying around the island calling, apparently disturbed by boaters landing on the other side of the island. Usually oystercatchers are standing and not talking much, but these had a lot to say.

We sailed back to the other side of North Key and the fishing turned into catching. We were hove to and the current carried us perfectly and slowly past the oyster bars and grass where the fish were. Bob caught two trout on his new reel, one of them a fine large fellow with rose and gold tints on his sides. We could see a raccoon making his circuit of the shoreline of North Key, looking for snacks. A dolphin came to play at the bow of the boat and finally a really large green turtle surfaced near us. Then we began sailing again, and looking at the time we realized it had passed quite pleasantly and quickly and it was time to head back to the dock. Thanks to Bob's skillful maneuvering, we anchored next to the beach by the bridge and took down the sails and mast.

Our friends helped us trailer the boat and headed home, while we cleaned ourselves up reasonably well at the public shower, donned on our Hawaiian threads, and headed to dinner at the Island Hotel restaurant. It was our anniversary dinner, with the celebration to be continued the next day with an anniversary brunch on Mother's Day. All was proceeding well. We had engaged our pet sitter to feed the cats dinner at a decent time, and we arrived home at 10pm pretty much on the dot of when we expected to be there.

The next morning we gave the boat a thorough cleaning, hoisting the sails and removing all the cushions from the cabin for cleaning. They were wet and sandy, more than is usual, partly because of our sandy friends and partly because of the choppy waters kicked up by the wind. We backed the sailboat to the sunny part of the driveway that is out from under the oak trees, and that is when Shipocalypse began. We were cleaning up for brunch when we heard thunder in the distance. It was raining already when we left for lunch, thinking it was just popcorn rain that would blow by.

When we returned home, the skies were dark and the rain was coming down in sheets. It was windy, but the sails were just blowing back and forth a little. The sun never really came out and so we pulled everything down and brought it inside to dry, hanging the mainsail on a ladder and the jib on the stair railing. It was a slippery affair taking down the sails and mast on a wet boat, but we managed with only minor injuries. We were both stiff and sore and still tired from the athletic business of sailing in 18-20 knots the day before.

Seeing the popcorn rain turn into a major downpour, I catastrophized about Shipocalypse to lighten the mood. The mast is a lightning rod, Bob told me. What's the worst that can happen while are at brunch, I asked, lightning will strike the mast and the boat will explode and burn in the driveway? The wind will knock the boat over and break the neighbor's fence? Hmm... Shipocalypse!

Things are dry now and the best part is our enthusiasm for sailing is undampened. Plus, the cats had fun chasing each other around the ladder under the sail. We are already planning for a vacation together in a few weeks, and we are thinking the sailboat may figure prominently.