Always Keep the Mast Pointing Up

So, I'm in the Windrider with the main reefed, shilling back and forth in front of the marina waiting for Wolf to be ready to come sailing. It's a powerful wind and very gusty but I decide to roll out the jib and have a little excitement. That's when the turnbuckle on the reacher sail parts and the whole contraption, including the black pipe extension, starts flogging wildly. I try to roll in the jib but it's not coming easily. Then a violent gust slams me from the side. I'm struggling with the headsails. I can't point up. and I don't react quickly enough to point down. I grab for the main sheet but by then the impossible is happening—a Windrider is tipping over.

When I know I'm a goner I dive out of the cockpit working to keep clear of the mainsheet. I dive and then swim up aft. In swimming I don't think about my glasses, but when I come up I notice that, in spite of the strap, they are gone. That's when I think about my phone which was not in the dry bag.

So now the boat has turned turtle, with the mast pointing at the bottom. A guy in a jetski is alongside within minutes, but I'm fine. I'm less than a hundred yards off the high dock and a crowd is gathering, although I can't really see who is there. Ken in the jetski helps gather stuff that is floating away and tows me in closer. David (from the big house) comes out in his big powerboat and we attach lines to the amas and try flip the boat back over, without success. Finally we tie the boat to the high dock and, since I had ridden my bike to the marina, Patrick gives me a ride back home.

I change out of my sopping clothes and begin to warm up a bit, and then John and ME drive me back to the marina, with me figuring the boat will probably spend the night upside down. But when I get there a crowd has gathered…Wolf, Patrick, Rachel, David, and somehow, Mike Coombs, in his wet suit. 

Rachel and Mike jump in the water and pull the pins on the akas, which takes pressure off the shrouds (John's idea) and then Rachel dives repeatedly with a pliers to disconnect the forestay. She spends a lot of time under water, but finally the pin comes out and the mast is free to swing backward and stop sticking in the mud. Meanwhile, I've got the 2.5 Merc onto Geode and I am able to tow the hulk in to the beach. 

Once on the beach a whole group of folks help pull one of the amas out of the aka; lines are attached, and the boat is heaved over. Rachel pumps the boat dry using the handle of a pliers since the pump handle is in the briny deep, while Mike and I get the brand new motor off the motor mount and haul it ashore where it can begin to drain. Everyone helps untangle the rigging mess, and I paddle the boat back to the dock.

So, should the blame for this fiasco be placed on the rigging failure, or somewhere else? I blame Wolf for not being ready to go sailing when I was. No major damage to the boat—and it got a god rinsing. I am, however, missing my glasses and cell phone.  These spare glasses I found are cloudy and scratched. And without the phone my blog will be limited, I won't be able to finish the e-book I was just getting into, and I will be somewhat incommunicado. Still, It was an adventure, and things could have been worse.

Carter Bay

Pitcher's Thistle and pot luck.  

Shadfly Soup

Countless carapaces...or larval shuck. One of nature's profligate extravagances. Like a thick soup along the shore, providing an aroma reminiscent of crayfish. Each of these relatively simple creatures has a precise built-in clock, so they emerge en masse over a few nights. I'm thinking last night, with its wind and waves, was bad timing for the nuptial dance. Tonight, with its absolute calm, would be perfect. Perhaps the emergence will continue for a third night, and future generations will be as extravagant as those past.

Bountiful sweet pea 

Shadfly soup.  

Every Kind of Weather

Making for an interesting day.  

Sue on the road before real light...back to Wisconsin for a week. Wild rocking and rolling in the marina, with a willing crew adding multiple lines to all the tossing boats.

Heliotrope well secured and going nowhere.

The Bay getting well churned.

Evening shower sailing by Gooseberry.

Serious goose problem.

Quite a few leopard frogs bored out of their minds, just waiting for kids who like to chase amphibians..

And, for a time mid-afternoon, it was hot and humid—almost too hot to work.

Thunderstorm

First of the year.  

Severe thunderstorm warning, but our storm proved to be rather less than severe. It eased in slowly, with no squall line, and rained only moderately—although the thunder was good, ricocheting around the bay. About an hour of rain, perhaps enough to do some good. Then as the storm moved out a tempest from the north-east lasting about half an hour. Not the greatest bit of weather, but still interesting. And, of course, enough to cause two power outages.

Last night the first night of the shadfly hatch. Boats in the marina littered with leftover flies. Phalanxes of gulls so over-stuffed they can hardly get airborne. With the storm gone, the sky clear, and the wind dropping, tonight might be the shadfly dream.

Great Day For Swimming

A nice long noontime dip and then an even longer aperitif splash. Very light breeze blowing in.  

Gold-plater and duct-taper. The main thing is to get on the water, one way or another.  

The Habes have pulled up stakes and are headed back to Michigan. Interestingly, Bri had Bob as his 6th grade teacher, and Abby (and Bri too for that matter) had Cathy as school librarian. 

Farmer's Market/Library Book Sale...

...and visit to Kagawong Museum and Edwards Gallery.  

Asclepias

Early morning kayak

Heading back to the trailer for the haul out

A brief shower this evening.

To Harbor Island

Lively reach both ways.  

What a great boat

Cathy and Bob

The old lodge.

And, when we got back, we found the Texas contingent here.They've got the water system up and running, and are happily flushing their new toilet into their new septic.

More Great Sailing

A three Windrider romp out around Gooseberry.  

Morning walk in the woods, taking the upper loop. Then, with the wind building about 2 p.m. a lively run out and around the island and then a challenging but fun beat back. 

Several of the original inhabitants of these parts have decided they like the cottage life just as we do. Above, an eastern milk snake hanging out on the bench. And then there's the oven bird who walks around and around the house, completely unconcerned by its other inhabitants, enjoying what to me are invisible tidbits.

Six Hulls To The Horizon

Two Windriders, that is. Great day of sailing.  

And here is a bit of the ACTION.  

Habes Here

Longtime friends. We have visited their cottage in Michigan many a time, and in fact it was not far from their place that Pax went missing and spent a night in the woods alone. And they brought their Windrider!

Nice Rain...

...at last.  

The forest and the fields, and all the living creatures are unclenching after the long drought. Not a heavy rain—light to medium, but steady, and for maybe eight hours. Now, beautiful clouds across the bay. I do so love it when nature behaves naturally.

Of course today is Canada day, so not the best time for rain. The dampness did not, however, diminish attendance at the farmer's market in Gore Bay, where I bought the most amazing beets, each weighing nearly a quarter pound, while the beets in my garden have greens an inch high.

Not too many places on the Lane to run with Pax at the moment—close to full occupancy. But, since Murray and Elaine are not yet back we went there, and there Pax took off after a muskrat or beaver. He finally came back with mud up to his whiskers, and earned himself the third bath in three days.

And, finally, today the Lane got a coating of calcium chloride, proving that chloride is never applied until after a rain. Many will be thankful. The Lane has been dusty the past some weeks, and when I washed the truck today, just following up on what the rain had done, enough mud came off to grow a bumper crop of beets.

Nice Breeze

Brisk, from the south.  

The town is filling up for the big weekend. The Toppers are here and already shooting fireworks. Peace and quiet and natural tranquility are on hold for a few days. But how can you shoot off fireworks when there is a fire ban?

Cut the grass today, or as they say in the old country, mowed the lawn, (Unkie aphorism) in spite of the vow not to do so until we have rain. The expanse over the septic field was looking brown and scraggly, and if it's never going to rain, why live with that?

Sunny, warm, and dry. We did see a few clouds on the far western horizon.

Just for the record, my piece on living on the water in the time of climate change is in the Expositor, here.

Welcome To Northern Arizona

Cloudless, warm, dry, and dry.  

And yet, the big-lake water level is as high as we've ever seen it. 

Several, relatively minor, odd jobs today, performed by several relatively minor odd people. But, it all adds up to progress, which can be a goal. Yesterday's little story has been revised and reposted on yesterday's blog. Lunch today with Therese and a chance to catch up on Island news (aka gossip).

And here is another letter in the Expositor, regarding the Waukesha diversion. Obviously, I'm taking this personally. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunlight
Passes through a butterfly
     Asleep.
--Ranko

Clean Screens...

...now that all the pine pollen is gone.  Sue did all the windows while I put up some curtain rods—not quite the the same effort. But, we can see clearly now.

Daisys proliferating.

Dry river.

Pax and I went for a row around the harbor in the dingy, and then a short walk along the river, which is still flowing, but barely. Bridal Veil Falls, the great tourist attraction, must be less than impressive.

Some time ago I read one of Abby's college textbooks—Wisdom Sits In Places—as was quite captivated by it, especially the Apache place stories. Apache people use names, stories, and other ways of speaking to create and maintain their culture.

When I finished reading the book I tried writing a place story using the Apache method and style. I printed off a few copies, and they became dispersed. Quite a bit later, remembering the story and kind of liking it, I tried over the years to find it. But no luck.

So, I have finally decided to try writing it again. Here is is, below.

I still wish I could find the original because I suspect it is better than this recreation. On the other hand I have now had fun twice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finding Home

Now he gets in his car and begins driving west.

The war is over and he’s married. He’s looking for a place to live.

His route follows the railroad, sometimes on one side and sometimes on the other.  He knows he will want to take the train to his job in the city, not the car.

Some of the towns he drives through are nice, but he still feels closed in.

Now he comes to a village on the river. He sees a house for sale on a quiet street facing the water. He gets out of the car and walks around. He comes back to the car and sits with the door open. He sits and listens. He sits for a long time.

Then he closes the door and starts the engine. No, he thinks, this is not quite it. I can't see it here. He drives some more, going west.

Now he looks at his map and sees a side road that snakes through a slough to the side of a lake. The narrow road winds through tall grass and cattails until it reaches solid ground on the north shore. On the lake side are some houses and on the other side are cornfields.

He sees a lane that leads down to the lake. Elm trees on both sides make it look like a tunnel. There are two houses on one side and one house on the other. That house is for sale.

That house looks big enough for a family and has a wide porch. The yard is a bit wild and has an old maple tree, some ash trees, and two cherry trees. A sidewalk in front of the house leads down to the lake.

He stops the car and gets out. No people are around anywhere. The roots of some elm trees have heaved the sidewalk, and pieces of hickory nuts are scattered over the end by the lake. A wide scoop of sand leads down the low bluff to the beach.

Now he sits on the grass and takes off his shoes and rolls the legs of his pants. He walks down the sand and into the water. The bottom is hard sand and the water is clear. He walks out deep, so his pants get wet anyway.

Nut pieces hurt his feet when he walks back to his car. He puts his shoes in the back seat and sits in the car with the doors open. He looks at the house. Water drips on the floor for a long time.

Now he is thinking. This is a good place. This would be a good place for a family. Kids would like it here. He can see how it will be.

Lupins and Merlins

Perfect weather if you don't mind dry. Strong northwest wind making it cool in the shade.  

Our first lupin, above, in the little rock garden on the way up to the garage. Seed from Wendy's garden, many years ago. I never though those seeds would amount to anything. (Oh, me of little faith.)

Wind on the bay, above. While Sue worked, after naps, I rode on two wheels down to the marina to see how the boats were handling the big blow. Seeing them well, I decided to take Geode for a row. I can state unequivocally that upwind was slow.

Yesterday I began planning a eulogy for our local merlin falcons, who have been summering here (and annoying everyone with their noisy cries) for years. I had been thinking that something finally got them on their long migration between here and there. But then today, I heard they're back! How annoyingly delightful is that?

Almost Rain

Even a rumble off in the distance, just enough to spook Pax.  

Coreopsis coming along. They like this weather (because they are irrigated).

As I was lathering up in the outdoor shower this morning the water temperature suddenly dropped. Belatedly, I realized, on looking up, that actual rain was contributing to my lavage. Unfortunately, it stopped just as I closed the valves. And that was that.

Lots of different kinds of weather today, with winds from various directions, but no significant moisture.

Todays' big project (though really not so big) was rock movement along the pier. Once the threat of rain had passed conditions settled in on hot and humid. That being the case it felt good to be wading waist deep or deeper, with the occasional plunge, to re-establish pier-side lake-bottom walking-paths.

(And, that's all the hyphens available until the next rain.)

Nice Sail

On Heliotrope, with Karen and Earl.  

Typical sunny, warm, calm, and dry morning. But by afternoon a brisk and building south wind and some high cloud. Lively sail around the bay, somewhat reefed in honor of the guests. Then a tasty hors d'oeuvre and sandwich supper. Earl has been coming to Kagawong for more that 40 years, first arriving on one of his working tugboats, with his giant Bouvier de Flandres appropriately named 'Tug.'

Fingers crossed that some weather is is just over the horizon.

Annoyingly Perfect

Another beautiful day—warm, cloudless, and calm.  Not much good for work (but that's okay). Not much good for sailing (not okay). But, pretty good for swimming (which was nice).

Irrigation has become the norm. I just can't follow Mr. Burt's waterless gardening advice.

The basil and cilantro, below, seem to like all the sun as long as they get an occasional drink. While no pest dares to touch the cilantro, something will venture to munch the basil. What could that be?

Basil Rathbone

Frank Cilantro  

Fire Ban

The drought deepens.  

Sunny, warm, still, and dry until well after noon, when a breeze sprang up. Good for a Windrider ride. Above, a flotilla of power cruisers departing Kagawong marina after gassing up.

The Ellens here, spending last night and tonight.