Sunday, October 17, 2010

Oh Man...

it is good to be home! Little Nomad was waiting patiently for our return. Clomping aboard Friday was a bit awkward, but she didn't seem to mind. Still being a bit sluggish from my debate with the Mercedes, Deb insisted that my deck monkey duties be restricted to when we were tied to the pier or hanging on the hook. Even then I don't think she was completely happy knowing I would get to the lake first and try to do the things I normally do to get the boat ready. I tried to pretend that I'm not still hurt but it was about all I could do just getting the boat opened up and the covers off; climbing up out of the starboard lazaret after attending to the thru-hull took a couple of tries. It was just shy of a bridge too far.

With the low for Saturday morning being forecast in the high 30s we decided to stay at the pier. At least that was my excuse for not leaving the marina. By the time dinner was over even my fork was feeling heavy. We sat by the fire for a while with the assembled, listened to some funny, (though "R" rated, at least) stories, and just enjoyed the moment. The walk out the dock (my fourth of day) was about all the mileage left in my battered left leg. We fired up our little heater and I crawled into the V berth happy that the week was over and that I had made it back to the boat.

It was a slow start for me Saturday morning but we eventually made our way out to the lake for a nice sail down to Coles Creek. And yes, I was on the helm the whole time, never left the cockpit once, and even managed to back out of the slip like I knew what I was doing. It did feel like I was going the wrong way though, I think I've only driven the boat OUT of the marina 3 times, including yesterday! And I was still at the helm when Nomad mushed to a stop just as we entered the cove. Yep, near the end of our third season and we have finally run aground. At least I was the second skipper of the day to bump into the same spot, something shared with us when we powered our way back to deeper water and joined the raft up. Even better, it was the owner of our marina who bumped bottom there before we did, so I wasn't too embarrassed. (Since we "powered" off using our anemic team of horsepower, its pretty clear we weren't stuck that hard.) I may not be a sailor yet, but I AM a Carlyle Lake sailor now.

This morning dawned clear and chilly, a perfect morning to sit in a cockpit, sip hot coffee, and marvel once again at being the luckiest person on the planet. The sail home was slow in very light winds, with Deb pretty much handling everything. We ghosted past hundreds of great white pelicans, enjoyed the near silence that comes with no powerboats, and wished the weekend (and the season) would last just a little longer.





3 comments:

RichC said...

Use this injury as an opportunity for Deb to gain full confidence that she can handle the boat alone. It might be one of the best thing for you as a sailing couple?

TJ said...

That might be a good idea for most potential cruising couples, but Deb has always been the better sailor. From the very first day she handled Nomad better than I, she works harder at getting the most out of the wind and the sails, and she does as much maintnenace on the boat as I. Most of the interior work of last off seasons was her doing.

TJ said...

There is no one in the world I would trust more than Deb when out on the open water, or anywhere else for that matter. I told you I'm the luckiest person on the planet.