Kenutu stretched her sails a bit this past weekend with a big adventure to Two Harbors on Catalina Island. Mack and Scott sailed right into a westerly wind under the power of Perky and I hopped a ferry to meet them over there after getting off work. I got in at about 9:30 and the two row-row-rowed the dinghy over to the dinghy dock to get me.
A hard sailing dinghy came with Kenutu when we bought her. An inflatable one also came with her but the motor was busted. Besides, we are sailors, right, and we should have a sailing dinghy. At least that's what thought.
Mack rigged the sailing outfit a while back and zipped down the marina channel directly downwind. Then we climbed onto a dock finger, loaded the dingy onto a cart, dropped her back in by the rocks and as out of the wind as possible, and used the keel to row her home. This past weekend we figured we'd rely on her oars more than her sails, but once again, we only managed to look ridiculous.
The dinghy has beautiful wood oars, but if there is anyone in the boat with you, you just hit their knees or your own knees the whole time. You can't get the right glide in and out of the water for some reason.
After Mack and Scott got me from the docks, I held up a flashlight while Mack rowed backwards into the night, which was dark and full of swells. I managed to soak my feet and my ass on the way back, so once we got to Kenutu, I hopped off and changed into warm, dry clothes. The boys tied her up and I set to making dinner. In my fully equipped galley.
As I was prepping an onion, I heard Scott mumble something from the cockpit. To which Mack replied, "Are you serious?" Apparently the dinghy didn't want to be with us so she cut her line and floated off into the moonlight. Mack radioed Harbor Patrol and asked them to keep an eye out and we figured we'd be calling for shore service the rest of the weekend. About an hour later, our runaway dinghy was delivered back to us, apparently just a couple waves away from a full escape into the ocean.
That was bumbling number one.
After dinner, all the ferry riding and whipping around had me feeling a little queasy so I decided to sit in the cockpit in my sleeping bag and look at the stars while I got some fresh air. Mack came out and I had to shield my eyes while looking at him because of some giant light just over the hill wrapping the harbor. I actually thought to myself, "How annoying." It was gas station bright, and I felt for sure it was some wedding party or something, even though the terrain was totally not conducive to having a wedding up there. Not to mention there was no power up there.
Oh, wait, that is THE MOON. A giant, bright, big full moon popped up over the hill and lit up the whole harbor. Clearly, we are not outside enough. Bumble on, idiots.
The next day I decided to brave the cold water and give the bottom of the boat an inspection and rubdown. What makes me so qualified to do this? I bought a snorkeling set and have a wetsuit thanks to my friend Malissa.
The water was fuh-reezing but I ended up getting pretty used to it once I was able to catch my breath. I took a sponge and washed away the little bit of growth that had started taking root on our fresh paint job. I only inhaled about 2 cups of salt water so I'd call that a success.
Mack also asked me to check on the prop while I was down there. I could barely sink in the wetsuit, but I managed to get down there and see we had a bush for a propeller. I don't think propellers are supposed to be bushes.
To free the prop, Mack made me a chisel with a wrist strap connected to floating key chains, tossed me some gloves, and sent me down to garden. I held onto the zinc to keep me underwater, and after a few dives, the prop was clear. I didn't have anything left in me to scrape the little critters that were actually growing on the propeller, but there's always next time. Hopefully when the water is a few degrees warmer.
Aside from boat maintenance and dinghy reconnaissance, we also had eating to do. We had pancakes with maple syrup and fruit and salad and nuts and grilled salmon and brussel sprouts and veggie burgers and tuna fish and egg salad and guacamole and beer and bloody marys and screwdrivers and everything was delicious. The eating may be my favorite part of boating. It's either the eating or the doing nothing.
The doing nothing is pretty fantastic. Scott grabbed a puzzle from the bathroom on shore on Saturday morning and it became the highlight of our to do list. I haven't done a puzzle in probably a decade. The last one I remember doing was over Christmas one year when my dad put one out on the coffee table and we each worked on it a little bit every day until it was done. I'm pretty sure the fact that we don't do puzzles is what is wrong with our civilization today.
The next morning we rowed to shore, bypassing the dinghy dock and instead shooting right up on the sand. A little hike through "town" and we ran into THREE puppies and another beautiful harbor flanked by green hills. Then we admired our girl from afar for a few minutes. Not a bad way to start the day.
After a little resistance from the waves, we got the dinghy back to the boat, packed up, locked down, and headed for home. We had winds over the beam but only managed 3 knots on wind alone. We cranked up Perky and hit about 6 knots. Just as we were getting to the marina entrance, we had spouts right at our back and managed to spot what I think was a grey whale given how smooth his back was. Not too bad of a welcome home from Kenutu's first overnighter. I guess the seas like having her out there, even if it means us bumbling fools come with her.
Two people dumb enough to think anything is possible and smart enough to bumble their way into discoveries.