Posted by Herm on August 30, 2010 at 11:08:05:
The still maintenance lowered Bridge that will not rise lost its war against P.P. yesterday.
I watched M and M rush off in the distance allowing M.E. (always sans mast) to carry them under the bridge and onto The River beyond. Oh, how I yearned to follow but, alas, my rudder was overwhelmed with the crusties and my mast won’t fit under the construction of The Bridge and my depth gauge is not to be trusted and my exhaust vent isn’t working and I don’t have my charting GPS and I’m getting hungry and … .
After a couple hours of scraping and cleaning and mending and relating I had worked my hunger up even further and my yearning to be on The River equally unquenched. My social life was well fed from the sharing and banter around the many boats but my stomach and dreams needed filling. I sauntered up to the Crab Shack and brought back to our berth (can’t have a sandwich as “carbs” are temporarily an unclean nutritional source for my body) a sumptuous snack of fresh shrimp and crab as a cocktail … oh so good and turned out to be just the right stimulant for the moment.
How about we just motor up to The Bridge and see how the construction is doing? At least I can see The River on the other side and dream of days past and possibilities for the future; at least I can do that.
It was mid ebb tide and without my ever trusty GPS charts me and P.P. sauntered (well a nautical saunter) out of the marina and up towards The Bridge, skirting the bottom sand as best my memory from last year could recall. Oh, as the bridge came closer and closer my heart took over more and more, I and P.P. needed badly to be on the other side, the water is so much greener on The Other Side, oh, so much greener.
Well, look off to the north side of The Bridge, it looks only a little bit lower than the main channel, which due to the ugly barrier of maintenance scaffolding hanging oh so very low it is certainly impassable. If I could stay to the north of the power wires I might just be able to slip through around the scaffolding. Swing P.P. around and back through ever so slowly so I can watch the top of the mast. Oops, that isn’t slow enough, oh, I can’t slow down and maintain control in the current, gotta’ go for it or risk worse in a single handed old guy uncoordinated panic drill. Watching the antenna mark the path on the girders of The Bridge was gut wrenching and beyond my control. Why didn’t I stay in control tied to the good scents of the marina and the security of the Crab Shack?
Look, look, we slipped through and we’re on The Other Side and it’s still greener over here. The mast, the running light, and the masthead fly came out unscathed and we’re all safely on The Other Side.
It was oh so worth the risk for here P.P. and I were heading up the river, maybe, to meet up with M.E. and M and M (Riverton?). We shared the joy of a river run with so many fishermen and waved to most as we passed by. The bird life was all out in full feathered finery gulls, herons, cranes, an eagle and so many more birds of The River that I cannot name. Wait, what was that? The salmon are jumping just port of our bow, wow, big and healthy, but why the back flop, doesn’t that hurt?
Salute to those dining on the fly bridge of the anchored Tora Maru. Wish I would have brought a snack with me. Wonder if they would have shared if I rafted up? I bet they would have.
Have to check in with The Spouse. Shut the iron sail off and drift. Wish I wasn’t on a quest or I could just drift like this for hours. Checked in with one bar of cell reception coming in and going out. Throttle up the iron sail and head once more toward M and M. Too late, must come about because I have to get under The Bridge at slack low tide, I was nearly there but some disappointment of control is still necessary to be able to be here another day.
Oh, oh, it was different heading up river because the wind was with us and now, against the wind and with the temperature dropping, my shorts and windbreaker weren’t going to allow me to survive to get back to the harbor. Preparation on a boat often becomes the salvation and my bright orange foulies made life sustainable. Here comes a speeding mast (full out 6 knots) with a blinding orange glow emitting from its base, get out of my way I have to beat the tide and The Bridge.
Got to The Bridge just at slack tide and decide to sidle up and through going forward. Suck it up and trust that getting as close as we can to the scaffolding will carry us through to The Other Side, the bluer side. Done and done, survived without even the antenna scraping a “I was here” tattoo.
Nearly back home. No, please, the depth indication must be wrong, it can’t be that shallow way out here in the middle. Grounded. Keel up and motor through. Charting GPS would have guided better than my eye and a trust in the depth gauge would have saved a lot of embarrassment.
Looked good tying up because the water was so flat that I just coasted into our slip, iron sail in neutral. Tora Maru showed up shortly and provided great entertainment watching a successful aft in tie, even had a small wave of recognition from the crew. Day is done and we’re all securely home in port.
Well, M and M are still out but they don’t have a mast and do have a charting GPS. They will be safely home once again. I am sorry I missed them and so happy for them that they can get to The Other Side and back home safely without lowering their mast.
Herm