It is safe to assume that if someone owns a boat, they most likely have more patience than the average person. I have been patiently waiting for my boat to go in the water for some time now and was excited to see it on the mooring when I pulled into the boat yard. I arrived later in the day because I was not expecting the boat to be in the water. Mike was kind enough to call his friend to put my boat in because his hydraulic boat trailer has been in pieces for a while. I felt bad he had to call his friend for a favor, but at the same time I am paying him a lot of money and he has one job to do and that is to put my boat in the water.
By the time Tom and I finished rigging Big G it was happy hour so I bailed on sailing anywhere and we enjoyed some hard ciders and wine. The following morning I was up at 6am to start my first day of sailing for the season. The first order of business was to get a dead battery off my boat and into my car. I placed the battery on the rail of Big G and climbed down into my dinghy. The battery, combined with my weight, made the bow of my dinghy go straight under water and I immediately realized I made a terrible decision. It was too late to heave the 150 pound battery back onto Big G so I let it go. The battery and Little G went straight towards the bottom. Fortunately Little G rolled over, dumping the battery, and popped back up. I swam over to the dinghy and grabbed the bow line and tethered it onto Big G before pulling myself out of the water.
It is rather difficult pulling yourself up onto a boat when you are tired and weighed down with wet clothes and boots. One pull-up sounds easy but it can be quite difficult even with a ladder alongside the boat. I pulled Little G out of the water and bailed her out. She sustained some damage to the bow where the battery cleaned out a chunk of the rail when it dumped. In retrospect, this was a terrible idea and I cursed myself as I took my soaking wet clothing off and placed them on the rails of the boat. After placing my pants on the rail, I heard the clink of car keys and a plop into the water. Choice words were then said. I had lost my car key, two post office box keys, and my old man’s house keys.
Things were not looking good for my first sailing day of the season. After some amount of time I managed to grapple the battery by the rope handle and painstakingly lifted it off the muddy bottom, scratching the side of my boat and covering it in mud. A small price to pay for not thinking things through properly. After dropping the battery off and accepting the loss of my keys, I got under way in hopes of getting 10 miles or so before the small craft advisory at 2pm. I sailed out of the bay to Pemaquid Point, a couple of miles out, and was greeted with at 10-15 MPH head wind and respectable swells. I turned right around and went straight back to the mooring. I was not feeling lucky that day.
Seeing as how I now had some time on my hands, I went to see if Tom had a magnet I could use to fish for my car keys. I was not all that disappointed to be back on the mooring, I still had a few things to work on. After acquiring the magnet I began trolling it around the bottom in hopes of catching some keys. At some point it occurred to me that my keys may not be attracted to the magnet because they are stainless or brass. I tested this theory on Tom’s keychain and I was correct. Although the key ring did stick, so there was a chance.
To better increase my chances, I acquired a bigger magnet from Mike and strung them both together, along with a treble hook for good measure. After a couple of hours I just tied the rope to the rail and left it to drag along the bottom as my boat drifted with the tide.
After studying the weather and reflecting on my poor decision making skills, I decided to bail on sailing for the week. Lots of rain and East winds would make for very slow progress, and I wanted to be in Bar Harbor for the weekend so I could be with Stefanie. It was nice to finish a few projects on my boat and to spend a day helping Tom with his boat, so my week was not a complete loss.