For a couple of retired people living
easy and large on a sailing yacht, we have occasional days that spin
completely out of control. All in a good way, of course. Yesterday
was such a day.
It started simply enough with finishing
up the inverter install being the only thing on the menu. Before
that really got started Deb accepted an invitation to crew in the
Wednesday night race, with a 1730 departure-from-the-dock time. No
problem. Even I couldn't stretch finishing up the install to take up
a whole day. And it didn't.
What took up the whole day was
discovering that one of the parts we bought for that finish wasn't in
the box they sent us. A different, though similar, part had been put
in the box at the factory. As a result the really important part, a
200 amp ANL fuse, didn't fit in the part that came out of the box,
which was supposed to be an ANL fuse holder...but wasn't.
Rats-n-fratsen-brain-fused-parts-packing-no-good-low-life-wankers...
After spinning of wheels searching for
some traction to get the job going again, the best option seemed to
be making the run to Annapolis to get the right part that should have
been in the box in the first place. So off we went. It is a bit of
a hike from here to Annapolis so, since we were there already and to
save Deb the trouble of having to drive back a second time, some
provisioning shopping was in order. Such shopping included a visit
to the beer store. In order? Indeed. (It is amazing how difficult
a job just finding beer can be depending on the liquor laws from
state to state.)
Which is the excuse for not getting
started on the inverter install until 1400 in the afternoon. It went
as expected. Undo much of what had been already done, do some of it
over, than redo the do-over until the bits fit the parts and the
inverter hummed a happy tune of turning DC into AC. (No panties in
wads please, I'm talking electricity.)
The last screw went into place at EXACTLY 1730. A quick change of work clothes to crew clothes and a
dash to the dock. Let the sailing begin.
Begin it did, and it was grand.
Though Deb and I are not of the racing
clan in the sailing world, Derek (he of power boat tour fame) is an
amicable Captain with a long history of racing these waters. The
fleet was of a good size, the course well laid out, and the winds
hovered in the mid 20s for the entire evening. We had rails in the
water, laid in close to other racers, passed a few, got passed by a
few, and played tag with a car-carrier-ship at one of the marks.
They race around shipping lanes in these parts and everyone seems to
get along just fine while doing so.
In two laps of a 2.5 mile course we
probably tacked more times than we did during the entire last trip to
the Islands. Of course tacking a Person 303 is a fair bit easier
than tacking Kintala with her full cutter rig flying, but it was
still a pretty good workout. After a few, we had the routine down,
giving every appearance of being a well-oiled racing machine.
The only down side to the evening was
that the vigorous heeling scattered everything we had brought on
throughout the interior. Oops. No damage. No foul. But we haven't
done anything like that for too many months.
It was nearly 2200 before we climbed the ladder onto Kintala's deck, making for a very long day. One that veered from the
frustration of the wrong part in the right box, to the sublime of
tacking side-by-side another boat in 20+ knots worth of wind, a car-carrier as the
backdrop.
I guess we are living easy and living large well on a sailing yacht
after all.
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