Get Your Gear On
A soggy Memorial Day weekend in New York, which feels less like May than late March. Fury the pug's going back to her real home today and we'll miss the ambient round-the-clock snoring -- she also sometimes snores when awake. Theo's puppy won't arrive for two more weeks, needing to put on a little more weight before the breeder in Pennsylvania will ship her out.
I'm shipping out for two days too, to help move David's sloop Blue from her winter quarters near Port of Egypt on the North Fork to her summer home on the western side of Shelter Island. Blue is a 13-meter LeComte North East 38 racing cruiser, built around 1969 in Jutphaas, Holland. (Jutphaas, on the Lek River, is probably not as beautiful as it sounds). It's only a few miles around Ram's Head to Coecles Harbor, but a lovely sail nevertheless -- out past the seine-rigged fishing boats in Greenport, past the ferries and past Bug Light into open water. It's not the ocean: Gardiner's Bay is well protected by Montauk and other islands. Then in through the narrow slot into Coecles. We'll time our entry for the rising tide to clear a sandbar by Red #10 in the inner harbor, then pick up a mooring with the boathook. Maybe sleep on board, but if so make sure we bring strong coffee.
A few ernes (or maybe they're ospreys) will already be in residence atop modified utility poles. Herons also love the reedy waters nearby. On a calm morning you may see someone out sculling, the blades leaving dragonfly rings in the water.
I don't get out on the water as much these days during summertime (and I didn't do any varnishing this winter), but I love this spring ritual: loading up bags of gear, hanking on the sails, fastening sheets and generally getting her ready for the season. Slow, deliberate movements. Checking everything over, stowing stuff in lockers. The creaks and the clangs of wood and wire, the first rumble of the Westerbecke diesel, the click-click of the winch ratchet during the hoist, the thunk of the sail filling, the swush and slap of the water along the hull when we turn the diesel off and lock the prop. We don't talk much, listening for these familiar sounds.
The trip back to the yard, usually in late September, is always a bit more melancholy, but just as enjoyable in its own way. It's a fall bonus if the tiny, tender, and resurgent Peconic Bay scallops are available (here's a few recipes). The season lasts only about two weeks, but they are so sweet you can eat them raw.
In some ways Shelter Island, so lushly green, is much more beautiful in this overcast drizzly weather than in it is during the summer months. A touch of damp cold in the morning really wakes you up.
To get your bearings (if the GPS isn't on), use the lights of Long Island.
Have fun on the water.
My nautical adventure this weekend was on Elkhorn Slough in a kayak. We spotted sea otters, harbor seals (including juveniles), brown pelicans, cormorants, various and sundry shore birds.
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A soggy Memorial Day weekend in New York, which feels less like May than late March. Fury the pug's going back to her real home today and we'll miss the ambient round-the-clock snoring -- she also sometimes snores when awake. Theo's puppy won't arrive for two more weeks, needing to put on a little more weight before the breeder in Pennsylvania will ship her out.
I'm shipping out for two days too, to help move David's sloop Blue from her winter quarters near Port of Egypt on the North Fork to her summer home on the western side of Shelter Island. Blue is a 13-meter LeComte North East 38 racing cruiser, built around 1969 in Jutphaas, Holland. (Jutphaas, on the Lek River, is probably not as beautiful as it sounds). It's only a few miles around Ram's Head to Coecles Harbor, but a lovely sail nevertheless -- out past the seine-rigged fishing boats in Greenport, past the ferries and past Bug Light into open water. It's not the ocean: Gardiner's Bay is well protected by Montauk and other islands. Then in through the narrow slot into Coecles. We'll time our entry for the rising tide to clear a sandbar by Red #10 in the inner harbor, then pick up a mooring with the boathook. Maybe sleep on board, but if so make sure we bring strong coffee.
A few ernes (or maybe they're ospreys) will already be in residence atop modified utility poles. Herons also love the reedy waters nearby. On a calm morning you may see someone out sculling, the blades leaving dragonfly rings in the water.
I don't get out on the water as much these days during summertime (and I didn't do any varnishing this winter), but I love this spring ritual: loading up bags of gear, hanking on the sails, fastening sheets and generally getting her ready for the season. Slow, deliberate movements. Checking everything over, stowing stuff in lockers. The creaks and the clangs of wood and wire, the first rumble of the Westerbecke diesel, the click-click of the winch ratchet during the hoist, the thunk of the sail filling, the swush and slap of the water along the hull when we turn the diesel off and lock the prop. We don't talk much, listening for these familiar sounds.
The trip back to the yard, usually in late September, is always a bit more melancholy, but just as enjoyable in its own way. It's a fall bonus if the tiny, tender, and resurgent Peconic Bay scallops are available (here's a few recipes). The season lasts only about two weeks, but they are so sweet you can eat them raw.
In some ways Shelter Island, so lushly green, is much more beautiful in this overcast drizzly weather than in it is during the summer months. A touch of damp cold in the morning really wakes you up.
To get your bearings (if the GPS isn't on), use the lights of Long Island.
- bruno 5-24-2003 8:39 pm
Have fun on the water.
My nautical adventure this weekend was on Elkhorn Slough in a kayak. We spotted sea otters, harbor seals (including juveniles), brown pelicans, cormorants, various and sundry shore birds.
- mark 5-25-2003 7:48 am