Sunday, September 16, 2012

Weekend thrashing

The forecast was for little to no wind this weekend so it looked like a good time to give the to-do list a serious thrashing. There are 4 sizable projects in the works, dodger, exterior teak refinishing, rotted wood / leaking port repair, and leaking hatches. Having them all finished before winter sets in seems like a worthy goal so Saturday morning thrashing began. And the wind began to blow, a perfect wind, on a perfect day, with perfect temperatures, with two extra feet of water still in the lake. Everyone was loading coolers, gathering up crew, and tossing lines. A glance out across the lake spotted sails, sails everywhere, more sails than I think I have seen on Carlyle in the 5 years we have been hanging around the place. Everyone who walked by (and because of our place on the dock that means everyone who was walking out to a boat) asked if they were going to see Kintala going sailing.

Alas, the answer was, "No". We also threw in some "Love to's" or "We wish" but there was no getting around that we were working on the boat rather than sailing the boat. It helped to remind myself that we hope to be doing a lot of sailing on the boat one of these days, to places pretty far off. For us that is, if not so much for the circumnavigators out there. But since Kintala came into the picture as The Boat I have been way more a boat mechanic than I have been a sailor.

So it came to pass that the weekend's thrash came to an end. Much had been accomplished. Thread just flew through Deb's machine as bits of fabric, facings, and zippers were stitched into a near complete whole. When not working with Deb holding this or helping her decide about that, I practiced the art of Boat Zen, cleaning and putting finish on what seemed like endless board feet of teak. I was walking back toward the boat after a victory lap to the trash can and thinking I was so tired that going down the steps hurt. Half way to the bottom I took a look at my Tartan of Travail and was stopped by an unexpected thought, the boat is starting to look like a cruiser's boat. Big purposeful looking dodger almost done, bimini hard braced, tools all about, helm stowed on the rail for access to the back of the cockpit, a boat obviously being prepped for more than a day sail. I'm sure it was all in my head, but Kintala had an air about her. Middle aged classic plastic she may be, a bit silly looking maybe, on this tiny, land locked, mid-western lake. But it seemed to me even a casual observer would look at her and think to herself, "That boat isn't going to be around here much longer."

I wish we were sailing today, but I'm glad we were working.

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