The COVID Cruise

One of the events we look forward to every year is a two-week cruise down east. The planning for this starts soon after the winter holidays and is part of the fun. This year with the arrival of the pandemic, we went ahead and made the best plans we could with the limited knowledge available regarding travel across state lines and restrictions that may, or may not be in place when summer rolled around.

We made two assumptions that proved false. One was that there would be fewer boats in the water and the other was that we would not be socializing with friends on the water.

The first assumption was partly true in that there were some familiar boats that simply never appeared this year. It was also true that we saw more empty moorings in some places, but we also saw many boats that we had never seen before that appeared and took up a summer, or partial-summer residence in the part of central Maine where we normally sail. Some of these were mega yachts from away and from what we could see, they were being used as places to escape the pandemic. Some might have even been used as “home offices”. The result was a combination of empty moorings in places we did not expect and full anchorages in places that are rarely occupied. The other area where we saw more boats were in politically motivated boat parades.

While I understand that too many Americans have chosen to define themselves (and limit themselves) by who they voted for or who they are going to vote for; a sad state of affairs in and of itself, but for individuals to join in a political boat parade waving flags is an even sadder statement. I say this for two reasons; one is that I personally believe politics should stop at the water’s edge, something I always thought was a more metaphorical than literal expression until this COVID summer, and secondly we observed that when political parades reach the water’s edge, rules of the road, no wake areas, and basic courtesy to other boaters apparently no longer apply.

When the woman who will willingly get up in the middle of the night and stand an anchor watch and I meet other boaters, what we have always talked about, what has always drawn us together, is boats. We talk about cruising areas, moorings, boatyards, fog, storms, and maintenance issues, seamanship, local history, boaters we know in common, and of course yarns and tall tales; we are sailors after all. This has allowed us to make friends with all kinds of boaters in all kinds of watercraft.

The point is that we have made friends and stayed friends with many wonderful people who might not agree with our political views on a single issue. Our shared love of the water and being on it is the bond of our friendships and I would hate to see that lost. Part of what we love about being on the water is that it is an escape from the toxic divisiveness that has become so much worse in the last few years. I recognize that it is an escape and I choose the word deliberately, what I am saying is that the waterborne political parades of this summer made it harder to escape.

The second assumption, the one where we thought we would not be able to socialize on the water proved completely groundless. We assumed, wrongly, that because we could not have guests aboard there would be extremely limited opportunities to socialize with other boaters. What we found in our home harbor, and particularly on our cruise is that, if anything, we socialized more; we just did it from a distance. Our cruise was a case in point. Since all of the scheduled summer boating events we had planned to attend were cancelled and we were no longer bound to those schedules we decided to set out on a slightly shorter cruise later in the season than we normally do. Part of our thinking was based on the fact that much of July the weather had been fairly unstable and we hoped early August might provide us with a more stable weather pattern. It didn’t.

The middle of our eight-day cruise collided with a tropical storm, and we headed for a hurricane hole that we knew would provide shelter but where we might just be sitting on the boat for three days out of the eight of our intended cruise. It was a disappointing prospect but you can’t change the weather.

We had some great sailing getting to the hurricane hole and worked our way in carefully since the approach is a bit tricky and someone directed us to an empty mooring owned by people we know. At least we were safe. Soon other boats came in looking for shelter from the storm. The first one in was a beautiful classic that picked up the mooring next to us and we quickly struck up a conversation across the water based on the beauty and the uniqueness of our two sailing vessels, and of course it turned out we knew people in common.

Here we are in our hurricane hole waiting for the storm.

To our great surprise and delight, the next boat in was that of a good friend of ours and he took the mooring ahead of us. Two more boats came in owned by people we are at least acquainted with, or whom we had met before. Before you knew it we were rowing around talking to people from our tender and many of the other boaters did the same. No one boarded another boat unless they were family members or had been through quarantine, we certainly never boarded anyone else’s boat, nor did anyone board ours, but the ship visiting was extensive. We ended up visiting some of the few boats we did not know either because they had beautiful and interesting boats or because it felt rude to be visiting every boat around them and not at least introduce ourselves. 

The storm blew through and the most we saw in our sheltered spot was a brief period of thirty-mile-an-hour gusts but the weather remained unsettled and the seas high for the next several days. One boat left early but ran into seven-foot head seas and returned with a torn mainsail. Meanwhile, we sailed our tender in the protected waters of the cove when the winds dropped enough to make that a safe activity, and continued to visit with and be visited by the other sailors who shared our sheltered spot. When the weather finally abated to a more predictable pattern, we cast off and were frankly worn out with socializing.

The common themes of conversations were boating and how the pandemic had affected everyone’s plans. There were those, like us who had curtailed their plans, there were those who extended their cruises since they could not do the things that usually occupy much of their summers on land. Some worried about even being allowed to return to their home harbors. There was disappointment expressed certainly, and even some exasperation and frustration, but sailors tend to be a somewhat fatalistic lot, accepting of what is beyond their control, and thankfully not one person brought up politics.

At the time I was prepared to chalk our social experience during the tropical storm to the drawing together of sailors in a storm, but the weekends that we anchored away or went for three and four-day cruises, we found ourselves repeatedly in situations where we met old friends or made new ones in shared anchorages. It was as if the deprivation of social activity on land made it safer or more desirable to approach other boaters and strike up a conversation.

So something good and unexpected came out of our summer, cruising proved to be the one time we actually got a chance to talk to real people…from a safe distance.

The Swing Bridge

Several times a year we need to pass through the swing bridge that joins Southport Island and West Boothbay in our Friendship sloop. The water the bridge spans is narrow and is characterized by strong tidal currents at all times other than slack at  absolute low and absolute high. The bridge opens on the half hour by request via VHF on channel 09. If you time your passage poorly you can have an interesting time trying to hold your position while maneuvering to stay clear of the many lobster-pot-buoys. Passing through is always a little nerve-racking, mostly because the timing can be even further complicated by other boat traffic in confined waters.

Passing through the swing bridge in the Friendship

On two occasions we have passed through the bridge in our Iain Oughtred designed Penny Fee tender, once last spring, and once this fall. Last spring when we passed through we rowed under the bridge while it was closed and with a favorable tide so that we could avoid most of the problems listed above, this fall our passage was a bit more dramatic.

One of my watercolors of our Penny Fee tender

The yard where we launch and haul out our Friendship is on one side of the bridge, our summer mooring and the ramp we use to haul out the Penny Fee is on the other.

In the third week of September we went though the bridge one way in the Friendship towing the Penny Fee, we put the Friendship on a mooring at the yard where she was to be hauled later in the week, we then stepped the mast and set the sail on the Penny Fee to sail back to the bridge where we planned to un-step the mast and row under it.

We had a fantastic sail passing near a 1926 Herreshoff racing machine as she set sail, we entered the Townsend Gut just as the tide started to turn in our favor and with a following wind fairly flew down the channel.

As we drew near the bridge we started to look for an empty mooring we could grab to make striking the sail and unstepping the mast easier. There was an empty mooring quite near the bridge and we headed for it, as we were about to pick up the mooring, I looked at my watch and noticed that the bridge was due to open any minute. It was only at this point that we realized that the two nearby powerboats were holding their position so that they could pass through on the opening.

In a snap decision, we did not pick up the mooring but tacked instead and made our way across the current to where the first powerboat waited, crossing their stern we asked if they minded us sailing through the bridge, and they graciously and enthusiastically urged us on.

Once again we turned downwind towards the bridge, which had begun to swing, but was not yet open. The current is quite strong just under the bridge and despite spilling wind from the sail we raced through the channel towards the place where, we hoped, the bridge would open momentarily. The sense of possible mishap was heightened by the fact that we had sailed out of the sunlight and into the dark shadow of the bridge. The gap appeared when we were only a few boat-lengths away and we squeaked through at a pretty good clip accompanied by a loud cheering compliment from the bridge keeper. The moment was euphoric, and fun, a momentary window had opened and an opportunity appeared with no warning and with no time for worry or second-guessing and we both saw that opportunity and seized on it. Luck certainly contributed much to our timing, the thrill and the unexpected nature of the adventure counteracted the sadness that we might have normally felt since this was technically the last day for us on the water.

We relived that passage over and over again on the drive home, a great way to end the season.

A couple of modifications to the Penny Fee:

We are into our seventh full season with our Penny Fee design, Fee-Fi. In that time we have made some adjustments and improvements, most of which happened years ago but I just never got around to writing about them.

First off we made some adjustments to the rudder.

The bottom of the rudder, the part that kicks up, is aluminum and even though it has been painted with aluminum paint and bottom paint on top of that it was still showing too much corrosion at the end of each season. It looked like the main reason for this was that even when the bottom part of the rudder was pulled up it was right at the water level with very little clearance. We had to replace the aluminum once and at that time redesigned the upper part of the rudder so that when the kick-up part was in the “up” position it completely clears the water and is higher off the water.

New rudder design with the traveler and sliding block for the main sheet

We have stayed with the push-pull, or Scandinavian, tiller system but have made both the cross piece and tiller longer and out of nicer materials. Aside from the aesthetic qualities this has done two things for us; the longer tiller means that it is easier to steer from the center of the boat when sailing solo, and the longer cross piece has made room for the addition of a traveler for the main sheet.

The bilge.

Another change that we made during our second season was something I had never originally considered and that was the addition of a bilge pump. Now the reason that I never considered this in the first place is that glued lap-strake and epoxy boats are basically leak proof, however, I forgot about rain. After a rainy week it sometimes took twenty minutes to bail the boat. After working so hard to make a leak-less boat, the idea of drilling a hole in the boat for a thru-valve fitting for the bilge pump to empty water out of the boat was one I could not face. Along the same lines, having a hose draped over the side seemed both cumbersome and something that would have to be taken apart and set back up again each time we wanted to use the boat. What we did instead was to mount the pump on one side of the centerboard well and a float switch on the other. Both pump and switch are wired to a motorcycle battery mounted in a box up under the underside of the mid-ships thwart seat. The pump is plumbed not to the outside of the boat but instead to the side of the centerboard well right at the top of the well. Water exits the boat through the centerboard well. This has been a good solution for us since most of the time we just forget the pump is there.

The bilge pump

The float switch with battery box just above it

Summary:

We love our big Friendship sloop, she is our summer home, a place to recharge, entertain, and this year at least, to quarantine. But the addition of our sailing tender has brought so much more fun to cruising. There have been so many times where taking out the Friendship would have been a lot like work, especially if you only have an hour or two to go for a sail, but we can jump into the tender, have the sail rigged in minutes and be off on a short adventure, gunk-holing, exploring the shallows, and of course moving people and gear to and from the boat. When cruising we sometimes get to a secluded anchorage a bit early so that we can get a good spot to anchor, then go for a sail in Fee-Fi. It’s a double sailing day, two kinds of sailing on two different boats in the same day. What could be better?

Sailing Fee-Fi: Part 2

We are members of the Traditional Small Craft Association, a really interesting group for anyone interested in small boats. Our focus for the last couple of decades has really been with larger boats, but this year we decided to try something different and signed up for the Small Reach Regatta. For those not familiar with the SRR, it is not a regatta but more of a Maine take on the small boat “raids” that are so popular in Europe. Many small boats get together and decide on a destination for the day determined by weather and the size of the fleet, then sail, row, or paddle to that destination for lunch on a beach and return to the starting point after lunch and social time on the beach. The social time is continued at the campground used as a base for the fleet at the end of the day.

Pond Island lunch stop.

We thought it would be fun to bring Fee-Fi to the event and sail her with the fleet, and despite one rain day and two that included some fog, it was a lot of fun. The array of different small craft was amazing, a totally different experience to watching a fleet of sailboats that are all of the same class, this was more like stepping back in time when sail or oar were the only means of propulsion for small boats.

Fee-Fi in the 2018 SRR.

The event was great fun and challenging since, though Fee-Fi has always provided basic launch service under oar or sail for us and our Friendship sloop, we had not used her before as our main mode of transport over distance. It was a different experience and a really enjoyable one.

Some of the fleet heading to Naskeag Point.

Naskeag Point at the edge of the fog.

For us, anyway, mingling with other small boat sailors was almost as much fun as the actual sailing.

The three day event was sponsored by the Down East Chapter of the TSCA who did a terrific job as hosts despite the unfavorable weather.

New Work on the Friendship Sloop

This spring presented some real creative challenges for us, mostly related to our Friendship sloop.

Last fall as we got ready to decommission the boat for the season we found ourselves trying to make a rather tough decision; do we pull the engine and have it reconditioned, or do we replace the it?

On the one hand, our 28-year-old engine always starts. In all the years that we have been living with this boat, it has never failed us. On the other hand, it was developing some problems and the time to intervene was now.

I found that I was going back and forth on what to do. I don’t like working on the diesel, it is about the only thing about working on the boat that I don’t take much satisfaction in, my strengths do not include being a diesel mechanic, so rebuilding, or reconditioning this engine would mean pulling the engine to have a professional do the work. So why is that such a stumbling block? In the first place expense. The cost to have the engine professionally reconditioned is almost half the cost of a new engine. In the second place, where would that get us? We would, in a best-case scenario have an engine that is in better shape, but is still 28-years-old and which has always been underpowered for a boat that displaces almost eleven tons. That second part is key, if you are just going to use the engine to get off the mooring or through a crowded harbor, or when the wind dies, then this is no big deal, but we love to cruise, and have been in many situations where unexpected weather conditions meant that we needed a reliable engine powerful enough to help us get out of harms way. Several close calls in the last few seasons made us realize that our old engine was operating at the very extreme edge of its capabilities. Between us, the woman who will willingly get up in the middle of the night and stand an anchor watch, and I, have more than eighty years sailing experience. You don’t acquire that kind of experience without becoming acutely sensitive to where the edge is, and when you are too close to it, and we were too close to it.

So that would seem to point us in the direction of replacing the engine, except that as I said above, I don’t like working on diesels, and at least I know our old motor, I know what is likely to go wrong and how to fix it. I have spare parts on board and the appropriate tools on board, and there is a lot of comfort in that. A new engine would mean getting to know a new power plant and perhaps having to reconfigure systems around the new engine, what would that involve?

While the choice seemed obvious, the unknown factors were making me very uncomfortable.

Last fall I started to research the answers to as many of those questions as I could. I talked with representatives of just about every manufacturer of marine diesels; I got specs on multiple engines, talked to mechanics, and spent a lot of time in the engine room of the boat measuring. Mostly I asked a lot of questions and listened to the answers.

By midwinter only three things were really clear, one was that we could indeed purchase a new diesel that was physically about the same size as the old, but that had greater horsepower. Second was that if we were going to get the most out of a new motor then a new propeller, matched to the size of the engine, the size and shape of the boat and which would, in turn determine which reduction ratio for the transmission would be needed as well. And third, that I really could not determine how many other things, like the exhaust system, or engine beds, would have to be upgraded until we made the commitment to one particular make of engine.

We began to narrow the field.

As we asked more and more specific questions the answers we got kept bringing us back to Beta Marine. While the package that they suggested was not the least expensive that we looked at, it was the most complete and would require the least number of modifications to the boat as a whole. We would need to replace the waterlock muffler, build and mount a new containment box for the engine start up panel and gauges, and it was clear we would have to move the electrical panel. None of these were, by themselves, that big a job, however, if we were going to go ahead with this then it made no sense to keep the old engine control levers which were completely worn out. With a new engine and new controls it did not make a lot of sense to keep the old control cables, so they would be replaced too. And since we were pulling the old prop and the old coupling, then removing the propeller shaft to change the cutlass bearing also made sense.

The old engine panel

Opening up the cockpit to install the new engine panel box and remove a few soft planks at the same time.

 

New engine box for the new panel.

As is often the case with a project like this, several jobs that I thought were going to be major hassles proved fairly easy; the engine beds for example. I worried about this a lot, but in the end it turned out that modifications were simple and quickly accomplished. The alignment was another thing I was worried about that went easily and with far less complication than I have run into in the past. On the other hand a lot of seemingly little jobs that looked easy turned into major epics. I ended up having to machine connectors for the new control levers and in the process of moving the electrical panel; it became clear that a number of connectors and wires needed replacing. All of this stuff takes time, especially when you realize to move forward you have to stop what you are working on, figure out where you are going to get a part, or parts, then wait for it to arrive. Once back to work, that is when I would discover that there were other parts I should have ordered too.

I won’t go into those epics save to say that it is the details that will kill you.

Engine beds modified to fit the new engine.

New Beta Marine 38 in place.

We have been using the engine now for almost two months and so far, touch wood, it has worked flawlessly. It is slightly larger physically than the old Westerbeke, which required a new engine cover, which also required some creative re-working of our companionway steps. However, I was able to make the box that covers the engine out of lighter materials and that makes it less of a chore to get to the engine.

New engine box (minus trim). Note the electrical panel has been moved up and into a box for easy access.

You can see here the modification we needed to make to the companionway ladder to fit the new engine box. The new engine is slightly longer than the old, and I wanted plenty of ventilation around the motor. You can also get a little closer view of the box for the electrical panel and the piano hinge along the bottom edge.

Also, when we moved the electrical panel we created a box for the panel with a hinged front. In the past if there was a bad connection in the panel, or a wire needed replacing, I had to crawl into the engine room and work directly over the engine where there was little space and it was hard to get at the back side of the panel. The new arrangement allows me to loosen two screws and the front of the panel folds down into the main cabin where there is light and easy access.

The whole project consumed more than five weeks of spare time, but we feel more comfortable on the water when conditions deteriorate (and they have already several time this season). Working with Stan at Beta Marine U.S. was easy and they were very helpful when we had questions. Later in the summer we will work on finding a new home for the old Westerbeke, but for now we are enjoying the improvements to our systems and to the engine operation.

 

Summer 2016

Well Labor Day has come and gone and so has Halloween, we pulled the fleet out of the water and started winter layup in September,  a little early this year so we could continue renovations on the cottage that the two tortoiseshell cats own.

First a word about sailing this summer; wind.

The summer of 2015 was a light air summer, as a result we got very good at setting and striking topsails. By contrast, this year we only set topsails twice all summer. We joined four other Friendships, a Marconi sloop and a lobster yacht for a two week cruise in July and never needed diesel, and never even topped up the main tank from our reserve tanks. It was a fantastic cruise with good company, good cheer, and great sailing.

Sailing in the company of Friendships.

Not only was there wind but also we were incredibly lucky in that we had predominantly fair winds. We had one rough day of high winds and big seas getting into Southwest Harbor on MDI. And there were two days on our cruise when the winds blew 25-30 kts, and not from a favorable direction, but we spent those two days tucked up snugly in a hurricane hole, hiking, reading, and relaxing, and those days proved to be among the most relaxing of the trip.

Moonrise in a hurricane hole.

We spent the last few days of our cruise in Rockland at the annual Friendship Sloop Homecoming and gathering.

Friendship sloops in Rockland 2016

We had a great time gathering with other Friendship sloop owners and fans in Rockland.

At the dock in Rockland, I don’t know why John is staying on the dock…

While we were in Rockland we also had a chance to take some of our extended family sailing. There were so many of them they had to come sailing in shifts.

Sailing with family…do I look worried?

After returning from our cruise we had another six weeks of weekend cruises, some of them extended weekend cruises, and great sailing.

The winds were so consistent and fair, that we did not get out to sail our tender, Fee-Fi nearly as often as last year since we never wanted to miss a chance to take out the Friendship.But even there, when the time came to pull Fee-Fi out of the water, we managed to sail to the take-out ramp in two long tacks, which was a delight since it is usually an hour of hard rowing.

Our lives have been so very full this last year or so that at times we wonder if it makes sense for us to dedicate so much of our time and energy to our wooden classic, but we saw so many beautiful boats, and old and new friends on the water and our summer was so rich an fulfilling that we mostly feel fortunate and grateful for what we have and what we are able to share.

New steering for the launch

We have been pretty happy with our Iain Oughtred designed launch, but now that we have sailed her for a couple of seasons we are trying to refine the few things we don’t like, or did not get right on the first go-round. One of those things was the tiller.

Initially I opted for a very traditional tiller. I liked the simplicity of the design and the classic look. However, what we found is that the traditional tiller had some traditional limitations due to how we use the boat. One has to do with sailing; if you are sailing the boat you need to push the tiller very far to port or starboard when tacking. This requires that the helmsman move his or her body all over the place just to tack the boat. This becomes even more problematic if you are single-handing because the excessive movement aft lifts the bow out of the water making the boat less able to windward.

The other issue has to do with taking passengers. The boat will comfortably hold five adults, except that anyone sitting aft has to deal with the sweep of the tiller and the dance of the helmsman.

None of this is totally unexpected, but it has become more annoying than we were prepared for.

What we ended up doing was to go back to the design source. 

Iain Oughtred has another design, the Caledonia Yawl, similar in size to the Penny Fee, with a push-pull tiller arrangement that frankly did not look that great to me on paper. However, I ran into a video of the tiller set up on Off Center Harbor and was totally swayed. I conceded (at least to my self) that it would not look as elegant and simple as the original tiller we had, but to my surprise, I found that the new design, while less classic, has a simple functionality that is also quite elegant.

Another advantage to the new system is that we made the tiller longer than the original so that if you are taking the boat out for a sail by yourself you can sit more forward, almost in the center of the boat which makes the boat balance beter.

It takes some getting used to and the instinct from long time sailors is still to move the tiller from side to side instead of fore and aft, but after taking it for a spin under sail and oar, I find that it is a really neat solution to our previous problems.

We had to come up with a way to lash the tiller when we leave the boat at the float, and that has not been a perfect solution, but we are working on it and that is a small wrinkle to work on.

Now I need to get back to work on the new sail. I am convinced that moving the center of effort aft, even a foot will create less drag in the rudder tacking and may gain us a few more degrees closer to the wind. We shall see.

Sailing

Although it has been a very full summer, we have been getting the occasional quiet moment. Last weekend we got in some wonderful sailing on our Friendship sloop.

A quick look at some light air sailing…the varnish looks very good in these shots.

We were sailing along when a small motor boat came along and started to take some pictures of us. The woman who will willingly get up in the middle of the night and stand anchor watch, flagged them down and got a lift so she could take some pictures of our boat, something we almost never get to do because we are sailing the boat.

I will repeat, very light air sailing, but still a lovely sight with all her kites set.

Summer 2013

Where has the time gone?

In the last post, way back in April I was explaining how we had refinished the gaff for our Friendship sloop.

Finished Gaff

Well we got that done, and then went on to do the annual scraping, sanding, and painting and varnishing.

Spring Painting

While this was going on I tracked down and bought a used trailer for the Penny Fee and refurbished that. We had been using the spar trailer to move the Penny Fee, but it is rally too small and was stressing both the trailer and the boat.

Next I installed a pump in the Penny Fee so that when we return to the boat after a week of rain we don’t have to bail.

Finally we got to launch the fleet in mid-June.

We got in two short weekend cruises before things got into full swing. The weather on one of those weekends was simply fog. Although we did get out we ended up sailing the Penny Fee more than the sloop. The other weekend, the one following the 4^th of July was ridiculously hot, but it was not without its moments. We did some sailing and some swimming off the boat and while cooling off we watched large power boat run right up on a well charted ledge in broad daylight right in front of the US Coast Guard station. We could not believe our eyes, but at least we were not bored.

Oops

In mid-July we headed out to spend some serious time on the water. First we drove to Southwest Harbor, Maine to crew in the Friendship sloop rendezvous there.

Start of the Southwest Harbor race

Great time, lots of fun people and beautiful boats.

Friendship Sloops in Southwest Harbor

Southwest Harbor Race

More from Southwest Harbor

 

Eden at Southwest Harbor

Next, on to Boothbay to pick up our boat and head to Rockland for the annual Friendship sloop gathering there. We had some fantastic sailing getting there, but once there it was just too hot.

Us running downwind to Rockland. At this point the camera broke and we were only able to take pictures without a viewfinder or screen.

Then off to spend a night in Rockport, Maine, followed by a lovely sail down East Penobscot Bay surrounded by ten schooners and a ketch, followed by several days on the Eggemoggin Reach before heading west again.

Hegira in Pulpit Harbor

All in all a fun cruise but exhausting, and now we are back to our jobs and trying to catch up.

The Fleet Is In

After what seems like the busiest summer yet, our fleet is home again and we are starting the chores to get all of our boats ready for winter. This includes fresh bottom paint, winterizing the diesel on the Friendship Sloop, cleaning and stowing sails, cushions, pillows, and mattresses, packing up the galley, and most importantly making lists of repairs that need to be done over the winter.

Typically, once the boats are bedded down for winter, they are allowed to rest for at least a couple of months while we focus on the autumn chores  at the cottage,  and then the winter holidays. Come January and February, though, I know I will start thinking about winter boat projects that need to be done before spring-cleaning and painting begins in earnest. Having made a list in the fall saves time and helps push the process along.

When we built the shed it seemed huge—much larger than it needed to be—and I remember wondering if we had not gotten a bit carried away. Now, twelve years later, part of the autumnal ritual of putting the boats to bed is the process of figuring out how to get everything into the building and still leave enough room to move around.

I know I will enjoy puttering on projects in the boat shed over the next six months, almost as much as I enjoy being on the water. And there is something very satisfying about putting all the bits and pieces away, making sure everything is tagged or labeled, sometimes adding a shelf or box somewhere in the shed so that another piece of gear can have a better place to winter over. Like stacking firewood, the process of putting things away, brings a sense of order to what is usually a frantic end-of-season rush, and a knowledge that I will benefit later from the work I do now.

For the moment though I am taking a deep breath and savoring the fact that the boats ate all back safe and sound in the boat shed.

The leaves have begun to change colors, the equinox has come and gone, the boats are in the shed: autumn is here.