Honda to Honda

So there I was...talking to my neighbor last night about a Honda generator I own and we got talking about the other Honda products I've had.   I proceeded to tell him about riding my Honda Goldwing motorcycle home from work on a very hot evening one summer at about 9pm.  After stopping at Home Depot, to buy yet another necessity for the house, I just couldn't get myself to put my helmet back on with it being as hot as it was.  As I drove through the dark on Rt 2 in Glastonbury, CT I remember liking the fact that there were so few cars on this stretch of highway giving me the road all to myself.  The deer must have been thinking the same thing as he leaped in front of my bike that was traveling 65 mph.  I had only enough time to brace for the impact as the animal slammed against the fairing and flipped over and slightly to the side of me.  By the grace of God and some angels holding on tight the bike stayed up and I throttled down pulling over to the side of the highway with my head still intact.  I looked back for the deer but there were no lights in this area leaving me to wonder if it survived.  After looking at the cracked fairing and other damage done to my bike I expressed my opinion about what I thought its fate should be.  Though I'd had many close calls over a lifetime of biking this one seemed to rob me of the sense of freedom I'd always felt when riding now having to be overly vigilant for the next foraging furry jaywalker.  Hence, I sold the Goldwing and bought a Honda snowblower just before one of the snowiest winters in Connecticut.  It's all good.

Unpredictable

So there I was...hunkered down in the cabin of my sailboat as Kim did battle with a  swarm of bees.  Things out on the water can be unpredictable at times.  Case in point.  Several years ago we were sailing about 5 miles off the coast of Rhode Island on a hazy day.  Poor visibility limited our view to about a mile giving the impression that we were all alone on this big ocean.  That is when we were invaded by butterflies, probably a hundred or more.  They came out of nowhere and were landing all over the boat.  It wasn't but a minute later that hundreds of flies showed up and started taking up residence along side the butterflies.  Feeling like we were in the middle of a biblical plague Kim and I were pondering this surreal moment when the bees arrived. So many bees.  Problem is that if I get stung by even one of these pollen toting winged wonders, I could die.  Amplify that dilemma with the time it would take me to get to a hospital from 5 miles offshore and the prudent move for me was to dive into the cabin and shut the doors after handing Kim the flyswatter.  Eventually she cleared the deck of all the uninvited guests and it was safe for the captain to show his face again.  She now holds it over me that she saved my life that day.  There must have been a stream of wind that collected all these critters off the shore and let them go miles out to sea.  Confused and disoriented they spy the only place to land, our boat.  Lucky us.

Black Sunday (Part 2)

So there I was...thinking the next big wave was going to turtle the boat, turn it upside-down, as my mind was scrambling for a solution.  Normally a sailboat would try to right itself with the sheer weight of the 2,000 lb. iron keel attached to its underside but in this case the 42 mph wind was pushing the sail to the water.  We couldn't release the line attached to the sail because it jammed in the block (roller) when everything unfurled with such speed and fury.  The only answer was to cut the line but my knife was in the closed cabin.  I yelled for Kim to climb sideways into the cabin, since she was closer, and hand the knife out to me.  Being the she-cheetah that she is, it was in my hands in seconds.  I cut the line (always keep your knives sharp) with one quick move and the sail and line were soon flapping like a sheet on a clothesline in front of the boat releasing all of the wind it had captured.  The boat popped right-side-up and though we were still getting hit with the waves it was now controlled mayhem.  I went forward and rolled the sail around the furler by hand leaving only a 4'x4' section of sail exposed,  immediately giving us control of Crosswinds once again.  Kim returned to her place in the cockpit hanging on white knuckled and looking forward and me to the helm.  A short while later I saw what looked like a one gallon milk jug that someone must have lost off their boat but as we sailed quickly up along side it the milk jug looked up at me.  It was the head of a leatherback turtle and it's shell had to be 4' across, it was huge.  I yelled for Kim to look causing her to almost jump out of her skin being so intent on staying alive at the moment.  I guess wildlife sightings weren't on her priority list.  As we entered the Watch Hill gate buoys, a coast guard cutter came speeding toward us, probably called by a passing freighter that watched our knock-down earlier and expected our boat to go down.  We waved them off as the seas settled quite a bit once we entered Fishers Island Sound.  The wind and rain were still going nuts when we arrived at our mooring and attaching to it ended up in a bent boathook and more drama.  Once we were tied and secure Kim fell down on the deck and started crying.  She had held it together through it all but now was the time to let it all out...and she did.  The amazing part is she still wants to be on the boat...with me.

Black Sunday

So there I was...sailing away from Newport, RI several years ago with Kim on Crosswinds, our 26' sailboat late one Sunday morning. The weather forecast was not favorable with 5' to 7' seas expected and 25 mph winds but we had to make it to our home port of Mystic, CT and our jobs the next morning.  We expected to get beat up a bit but we had no idea what was coming our way.  As we rounded Pt. Judith, RI, we evaluated the conditions as this was our last chance to ditch into the man-made harbor of refuge that was built for just these occasions but felt we could handle the present conditions.  Shortly after the point of no return the sky opened up dropping massive amounts of rain while the winds built to 42 mph and the seas, coming from behind us, grew to somewhere between 10 and 15 feet high.  We had an outboard motor on this boat which makes it impossible to drop sails and motor into the seas, and back to Pt. Judith,  because the hobby horsing of the boat pulls the propeller out of the water making it ineffectual at best and destroying the motor at worst.  So, we shortened our sails the best we could and ran for Mystic some 25 miles away with nowhere to hide from the storm.  As the seas grew, Crosswinds started to surf down the waves at speeds that were much too fast for this boat.  My fear was that she would dive her bow into the bottom of the wave prompting me to fight the helm over so we would ride the wave on an angle like a surfer would do.  The hard rains were coming sideways from behind us making it almost impossible to look back to time the oncoming waves and this scenario was going on and on with no signs of letting up.  We had a fore sail that was huge but only about half of it was out thanks to a device called a roller furler that rolls the sail around itself.  With the wind continuing to build I was loosing control of the boat and knew we had to roll that sail up some more.  I asked Kim to take the helm so I could pull the roller furler line, effectively shortening the sail, knowing it was going to be a real struggle with the wind pulling on it with such force.  She saw what I was going through at the helm and felt she couldn't handle it choosing to deal with the roller furler instead.  I warned her to not let go of that furler line once she committed but the force of it was overpowering and it was yanked from her grip.  The whole sail unfurled in a heartbeat and the wind spun the 7000 lb boat sideways and knocked it flat on it's side to where the top of the mast was now touching the water.  Kim and I scrambled to the high side of the cockpit and hung on as the next big wave was bearing down on us.  (To be continued...) 

Impressed (x4)

So there I was...sitting in the cockpit of Eventide in Dutch Harbor, part of Jamestown Rhode Island, watching the sun set across Narragansett Bay.  I was single-handing the boat for a week and heading for Martha's Vineyard where Kim would meet me after the sea calmed me down a bit.   A beautiful wood sailboat was ghosting into the harbor barely leaving a wake and heading for her mooring.  Normally a vessel of this size will start the engine to assist picking up the mooring but this one was going to do it on sail alone, which impresses the heck out of me.  I grabbed my binoculars to watch the crew go through their paces and was even more impressed to see that it was four ladies.  Like a well oiled machine they moved with precision and landed the mooring about as perfect as could be done.  Impressed for the third time, I jumped in the dingy and motored over to this forty plus foot sailboat to commend them on a job well done.  With thanks for the compliment they asked if I'd like to come aboard for a drink.  Why, yes I would.  What a great bunch of gals they were and as drinks turned into a dinner of homemade chili we told sailing stories as the sun finished setting.  Then they told me the story of the captain of this vessel who was sitting across the cockpit from me, all 125 lbs of her.  Apparently she was a finish carpenter of sorts and over several years she built this boat with her own hands.  Then she sailed her off and circumnavigated the globe in three years.  She had returned a couple months earlier tired and out of money.  Now she was regrouping and putting together a plan that would allow her to get out there again.  A tour of the boat showed how talented a builder she was and the perfect mooring pickup showed how competent a sailor she was impressing me a fourth time.  I think that's some kind of record.