Kenutu went out for a bit yesterday. Only a bit because the meclizine I normally take for short trips did not cut it. I went to lay on the deck on my newly fashioned custom deck cushions and when I came back to the cockpit it was all over. Someone give me a lobotomy or something to end this motion sick crap.
Despite the brevity of the adventure, we got to see quite the site once we were back in the harbor. The Irving Johnson, a boat conceptualized in the 1930s but not built until 2002, was coming in from a sail.
We counted 18 crew members and circled around the tall ship to get a better look at her. Even with her sails tucked away, the Irving Johnson was divine, a playground for pirates and conquerors and explorers. Or, in reality, actors on Sharknado and love-seekers on the Bachelor.
I later learned that this 110-foot wooden ship, which was built in full view of the public out of South American Purpleheart hardwood (do you see how educational this blog is?), was beached on a sandbar in 2005. She got pretty banged up and took on a lot of water, but after a $2 million infusion, she was back in commission, teaching "troubled youth" about team work and problem solving. And if their experience is anything like ours, they're also learning how little they know about anything and just to chill and be a sponge.
The Irving Johnson is emblematic of the things I love about boats. She was an idea nearly a century ago. Then she became a real life "maritime ambassador of the city of Los Angeles." Then she ran aground and tried to sink. But in the end, after a little love and a lot of money, she's back at it and will probably be at it for another century. Also, she is beautiful and strong.
Deep in the recesses of Kenutu's cockpit lazarettes we found the solution to a boating emergency. A rusted mess of metal that would be a tiller if our wheel broke off or we somehow became unable to steer. It's kind of a big deal.
We had some random white spray paint left over from some paint thing we never did, so Mack broke out the sander and started stroking the pole.
Yes. That is DURABLE COVER MAX TECHNOLOGY in a spray paint. Come on, Krylon. Put down the energy drinks and the thesaurus. It's spray paint for goodness sake.
Painting the emergency tiller was a little fix, probably a non-essential one, but it looks way better. And that means it was worth it. Especially since now we know where it is.
Two people dumb enough to think anything is possible and smart enough to bumble their way into discoveries.