A pilot's first solo is a memorable event. Mine was in Piper Cub a few weeks after my 16th birthday. Many hours of dual instruction went by before I first took to the sky on my own. Memories of some fragments of that flight still float around in my brain, though it happened some 44 years ago.
I
logged some dual hours on the Sailrite machine today. It would be
nice to qualify as a pilot in command on that thing, but that is many
hours of practice in the future. Filling up a bobbin, threading the
machine, and actually stitching a seam is a pretty much the limit of
my ability. Half the time I have no clue as to why I am doing what I
am doing. Deb is in charge of design and fabrication. I am drone
labor, laying down about 3 stitches per second. When Deb is in the Sailrite's pilot seat she just stomps down on the “go” peddle and fabric
bits stick together like magic.
Which
is to say that the Bimini project is moving along, but at a
drastically reduced pace. I do have my moments. A small storm rolled
through the marina this afternoon. I kept stitching right along even
as the boat swayed, heeled, and bounced off her dock lines. I be
hard core...arggggh.
After
the storm we dried out the cockpit and did the first test fit of the
raw cover. Patterned, cut, with the finished hems on the port and
starboard edges, and the three main panels stitched together into one
whole unit, there was enough done to see if it was anywhere near
close to fitting. It looked pretty good, so tomorrow we drive on
without having to back up much, yet.
One
nice thing about canvas work is that the progress is out there to
see. Where there was once just a roll of fabric there is now a thing
that looks clearly like a Bimini top. Where there was once just an
engine cover hiding the Beast, there is still just an engine cover
hiding the Beast. Three days of hard work went on behind that cover
and there is nothing to show for it. Three days of hard work have
gone into the Bimini and there is a Bimini to show for it.
Something
similar can be said about cruising in general. Back in my old life,
even though I traveled thousands of miles a month, usually I was in
the same spots doing the same things. Out here we anchor, moor, take
a dock, and are rarely in the same place long. Summer work-fests are
the exception and, even then, it is engine work one day, canvas work
the next. There is wood working, electrical wiring, and Wednesday
night sailing. Different people come and go off the end of the pier,
anchored out to visit with Deb and I. We try new things, learn knew
things, and see new things all the time.
It
is a balance of course, all life is. In St. Louis and Indy the kids,
and especially the grand kids, are trying new things, learning new
things and seeing new things all the time also. Things we don't get to
share with them. The first crawl, the first steps, the first words,
the first missing tooth; we hear the stories after the fact. Someday
though, maybe they will share some of our stories up close and first
hand. Who will be the first grand kid to take the helm for a solo
watch? Who will be the first to set the anchor or help me put in a
reef?
Before
that can happen Kintala has to find her way back to the ocean.
Watching the Bimini take shape helps remind me that the day is getting
nearer. It may be only a few weeks away. Certainly it will happen long before I solo
the Sailrite machine.
1 comment:
Awesome! Congrats, TJ! (Although, I warn you--Your sewing budget will now increase. The only thing we squabble about is whose turn is it and who left an empty bobbin!)
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