Looking back at the edge

Steam coming off the lake this morning. It was 51° on
July 28th in the St. Louis area. Last year we were in the middle
of two weeks of 108°

So I'm back in the city for the night as a contract flight came up for tomorrow. I decided that the "cruiser" thing to do was take the trip since it pays well.  Nice that, since we are burning up money like we actually have some. Not quite as nice is it will take two long days out of the work schedule; tomorrow and then Friday. (It's kind of a long story involving airlines, car services, four(?) different airports; it is good money but it isn't easy money.)

Sitting in the city for the evening and away from the boat is giving me a chance to breathe easy for a few minutes. Kintala is on the hard, the crane will be along in the next few days to un-step the mast, (a procedure I am assured will be lacking in drama as well - unlike stepping it a couple of years ago) and the shipper insists he hasn't forgotten about us; price and actual ship date to be provided. I figure it will take a full day to prep for the mast coming off the boat. (Undo wiring, un-chock the mast at the deck, move the new table off the bulkhead and out of the way, stays, rigging - yep; a full day.)

The bottom paint is going to take at least one full week. Kintala sports a nice "smile" at the keel joint and has at least four different colors of paint on her - a light and dark blue, one coat of black in there somewhere, and some red. We are going to sand it, fair it, paint it, and splash it. We don't have time to take it down to a barrier coat and start over, and it isn't like we are going racing. I'm looking for a "10": if it looks good from 10 feet away, it's a paint job.

Finishing the wind vane is any one's guess but I'm hoping to have it done by this time next week. There is still more stuff to go on the boat than there is boat for the stuff. The new Mantus anchor and bottom paint should arrive at the marina this week. Somewhere we need to find room for the old anchor, and the Danforth still needs a coat of paint before it goes back in its locker. (Three anchors should be enough, right?)

Regardless of where sits the project list, when the truck gets here, we go.  (Which may not be the best decision I have ever made but we have jumped already; the landing is the only thing in question now.) 

Yet somehow, with this initial lift done, it all seems just that little bit less overwhelming.

Up ship...

In the aviation world "Up Ship" is a specific command given by airship Captains.  It tells the ground crew to toss the nearly neutrally buoyant ship skyward to start its journey.  I never piloted an airship and aviation is not my world anymore, but I couldn't help but mumble "Up Ship" under my breath as the straps went tight and Kintala cleared the waters of lake Carlyle.

Our journey is underway.

The day started normally enough.  Breakfast, coffee, chat with a few friends, prep the boat to get under way.    The boom tent was stowed, halyards moved, cobwebs swept away; we ran the spring line to get us off the dock cleanly and headed to the pump out.  There was no way to tell that this day's sail was any different from any of the hundreds of others we have done in the 6+ years of being at Carlyle.

We motored out of Boulder a little slower than normal.  This would be the last time Kintala's bow would
push these waters aside.  It was a strange feeling.  Out on the lake we flew just the head sail in the 10 knots worth of wind.  It wasn't enough and we weren't going very fast.  Then again we were in no particular hurry and the boat was moving easy.  As Boulder fell astern smiles broke out in the cockpit, replacing what was a bit of a somber mood.  The conversation shifted as well and somehow, in just those few minutes, all of our focus shifted from where we have been to where we are going.

Saturday, 9/15/2007 was day one of our first sailing class, and the first time we set foot on the docks at Tradewinds marina.  To suggest we had no clue as to what we were were doing would have been the understatement of the year.  This day Kintala slipped up to the fuel dock with little fanfare.  Deb stepped onto the dock, secured the mid ship spring line, cleated off the bow and stern without a thought and that was that.  We stripped both head and mail sails, flaked and stowed them below, and dropped the forestay so we would fit in the lift.  We motored into the pit without drama, set the straps fore and aft ...

"Up ship."