Be careful out there!

Great weather this past weekend. Also busy times for the Coast Guard, Sea Tow and TowBoatUS. Here's a sampling:

19 footer sunk (yikes) near Castle Island. The Coast Guard didn't say but I suspect the rock ledge there had something to do with it.

Sailboat went hard aground on Great Brewster Spit. Sea Tow got them off after sunset and towed them home.

There was a report of a kayak adrift outside of Hull Gut. The Coast Guard presumed a possible person in the water. More likely the person was on Peddocks Island wondering where their kayak went.

At least one call from a boat that was out of gas. (I always wonder how much gas they had when they started out.)

The call the Coast Guard didn't get was from a boat that I saw leaving with a dozen on board. Don't ask me what the capacity might be but I suspect they exceeded the number of life jackets on board by a factor of three.

Be careful out there.

The bottom is wet!

I'm usually in the water by mid-April, but "usually" doesn't include an engine replacement. A very cold March followed by the usual delays in getting anything new and different into the available engine space of a Cape Dory 28 delayed LIQUIDITY's launch until today. There's still some engine plumbing and electrical hookup to do, but LIQUIDITY is now floating happily in slip I20 at Marina Bay. Sails, gear and the like should all be on board by the end of the week.

It was sad to bid farewell to my loyal MD7A, which was (finally) picked up on Sunday. It's been trooping along since 1977 and while it shows its age, it worked hard last season and it always got me home. The little Volvo will live on though, and no doubt it will save someone's sailing season as a somewhat temporary replacement engine.

Let's have a great season, with fair winds and following seas!

Forever on the river

When you volunteer as crew on a tall ship, you never know exactly what to expect. My most recent unexpected experience was a memorial sail, quite unlike the education sails I'm used to.

A ship is a confined space and while the crew stayed on the perimeter, we were all part of the experience.

About 30 guests, a combination of family and friends, arrived on board for a late afternoon/evening sail. The mood was reserved; what I describe as "respectful."

We motored upriver, raised sail, and motor sailed, for a total of about an hour. There, the Captain cut the motor and we quietly lay to wind and current.

Some gentle words were said about a woman who loved the river, and whose request was that her remains be spread there. And so they were, along with a long trail of flowers.

I chatted a bit with the family and learned just a bit. Pamela was 65. It turns out we grew up in the same city at the same time, but went to different high schools. That, and her passion for the river, is all I know about her.

Rest in peace, Pamela.