Wednesday, July 20, 2004
North Port, MI
We are homeless again. The boat is high, dry, and engine-less. We are on the move, via vehicular-type transportation. After ten days of sitting, staring at each other, conversations become repetitive (“Well, when we get this new engine everything is going to be great . . . Did I mention how great it will be when we get the engine? . . . Yeah, great engine . . . Great.”) We spent our original broken-down days talking about all the work we would get done to the boat during our sailing hiatus – obviously complete self-delusional. We did some work, but mainly I sat and stared at the deck, listening to the void between my ears – a completely uninteresting way to pass time.
After deciding we had enough fun wagering then counting the number of dead mayflies we’d find on deck each morning, a break from our engine waiting game was in order. We have to get out of here. We have to get south to meet our friends and have a nice interlude. I made arrangements with the Northport Bay Boat Yard people to pull the boat and the engine. We spent the rest of yesterday getting the boat ready for the haul out . . .
Ah, crap! I can’t believe I dropped it! The is going to be cold!
Not necessarily accomplishing much, but the idea was there. Vanessa would stick her head out of a hatch to yell at me, trying to jolt me out of the daze I would fall into, trying to comprehend all the projects I needed to complete. I decided that I would begin by packing everything up – starting with the dingy and it’s outboard. Of course, I can’t just pack stuff up with out a little reorganizing – which usually involves tools and, ultimately, more projects and a bigger mess. It is in my nature. I usually have to mess things up before I get them right. This time, my mistake involved removing my hand from the outboard mounting bracket I was moving so I could reach for a needed tool. I barely had my back to it when I heard that heart-dropping “plop.” “Oh, no. Perhaps I don’t need that tool after all,” was the comment I heard inside my head. I turn just in time to see the bracket settle gently on the bottom of the lake. As the picture shows, the water is beautifully clear. You can hardly tell the depth is 8 – 10 feet. No big deal, right? Just dive right in and snag it, and we’re back in business. Not! That water is cold! In I went. Funny – I didn’t know I could move that fast! I barely got wet! But it was COLD! So cold, that during the initial entry, I thought I had three Adam’s apples! Once out and dry, a hard swallow and everything was back in place. Most important, the bracket was in hand. Lesson learned, not wanting to get back in, you can bet I made sure there was no more dropping of parts into the water for the rest of the day.
Binga doesn’t mind. It’s great!
Wound up and running for water
Cold or not, Binga didn’t care. While I was stowing gear for the haul out, she went over one dock to the boat launch and played in the water for an hour. She would do her usual run in, splash, laugh, run out and back in – although I did notice she wouldn’t go in past her knees. Smart kid.
She was having so much fun, we had a hard time getting her out. I didn’t feel like fighting through a tantrum, so I developed a plan. There is a small beach on the Lake side up here called Christmas Cove. We told Binga that if she got out of the water, we could go over there and, maybe, just maybe, we might see Santa, relaxing on a summer break (It is “Christmas” Cove after all). Out she came, me watching, proud – of myself. I reveled in my parenting genius. How smart I was to come up with such a great motivation to get my child away from something she is totally engrossed in! Not one cry or fight. Out she came and was happy about it.
What an idiot I am for coming up with such a lame brained scheme! She wouldn’t shut up about Ho Ho (that’s Binga for Santa). All through dinner, “HoHo, Santa, Kiss-miss Cove, HoHo, deer, Santa, HoHo, HoHo, Santa, HoHo, Kiss-miss Cove, HoHo, HoHo at Kiss-miss Cove, HoHo, Santa, wanna see HoHo, wanna see Santa, Mommy Santa, Kiss-miss Cove Dada, Kiss-miss Cove, Ho-Ho-Ho.” All the way there in the car, “Dada HoHo. Mommy, wanna see Santa . . .”
Have I ever mentioned I hate Christmas! If I ever catch that Santa guy at my house! . . . After all, there isn’t much in my brain right now as it is, but to have what ever was left pushed aside by a two year old’s rantings about some fat guy in a red suit is completely off kilt. I began to hate Ho Ho. I certainly didn’t want to see him at some dumb beach. But, we went anyway – just in time for a magnificent sunset. Spectacular! Even without HoHo it was perfectly magical. I think the photo’s speak for themselves.
A gorgeous sunset at Christmas Cove
Daddy and Binga watching
Binga on the beach
Up early this morning, we packed up the rest of the gear and our bags for our trip south to Ohio. The Northport Bay Boat Yard guys came over and had our boat out of the water so fast, I almost didn’t see it happen. It is great here. They are all super nice and super efficient. They really know their stuff, which helps with our stress levels when it comes to an engine project such as this. After the boat was out of the water, it was only a small matter to lift the engine out of the boat with the yard’s crane.
 Up… |
 up… |
 and away! |
 Having the right equipment . . . |
 helps make a tough job . . . |
 seem easy |
Engine not Installed in Boat
There is a mess to clean up now, and some retrofitting to do for the new engine, but we still have a couple of weeks before the new engine arrives. We are going to take a break and have some fun with out friends from Vegas. Seems there is a “fastest, tallest, newest, wildest-in-the-world” roller coaster in need of riding down at Cedar Point Amusement Park in Sandusky, OH. Probably not near as exciting as sailing along at seven knots, but we’ll just have to adjust. Something to take our minds off of waiting for the new engine to arrive. Talk to adults our own age. Have intelligent conversation. Most important, NO HOHO!
Until next time, here is another photo for you. Apparently, Vanessa has just as sick a sense of humor as I do. Funny what ten day’s of nothing does to you. As John Stewart says on Comedy Central’s The Daily Show, “Here’s your moment of Zen.”
The End
– Steve