Thursday, August 5, 2004
Northport, MI (surprised?)
I was looking back though some of my logs and noticed this Saturday is the two month anniversary of the launch of Nereus. Only two months? Seems like we’ve been at this much longer. One thing is for sure, we thought we were going to have more time spent leisurely waiting around during our cruise. For example, Norfolk, VA is as far south as we wanted to go before Halloween because of hurricane season. We had planned on gunkholing around the Chesapeake Bay for the month of October, waiting before continuing south into the hurricane zone. Now, that isn’t even an issue. We just hope to be there by the end of hurricane season — next year.
This is the Engine
In case I sound negative, I am. The two weeks for engine delivery has turned into three, working on four. Four weeks! That’s a whole month! Half our cruise time to date has been spent waiting for our new engine. What, does Westerbeke have to build it? Apparently, they do. So, I’m torn. I want them to take their time and build it right, but I also want to get the hell out of Dodge.
It is wonderful here – the spectacular scenery, the green lushness of the trees, the drifting sand dunes, the crystal beauty of the emerald waters – but we’ve had enough! Enough of the beauty. Enough of the killer flies. Enough of sitting around staring at each other. I mean, come on, I wanted spend time with my family instead of working a daily grind, but this is ridiculous! Don’t get me wrong, spending 24/7 with my two most favorite people in the world is idilic while cruising, but not in the madness of waiting . . . and waiting . . . and waiting. You sort of go nuts. My unoccupied mind starts to wander, causing trouble, fantasizing about wiring the roof with explosives, so when I’m still sitting here at Christmas and that bastard HoHo lands his sled on the roof – KABLAM!
I think I am going nuts. This morning, I awoke, maybe from a dream, I’m not sure, but to sounds of cracking. It was the sound water makes when it freezes. The sound the lakes make in winter. It woke me up – early. The sound was gone. Had I heard it or was it just a dream? The sound I heard last week in the woods was undeniable. A loooong “buzzing” sound that I used to hear every year as a kid. The sound of a giant locust. They aren’t really locusts, like the grasshoppers of Mormon fame. They look like giant flies – which is symbolic of itself, isn’t it, considering the little carnivores awaiting us out on the water? These things are big enough to bite your whole head clean off. I don’t really know what the hell they are — cicada, locust, what ever you want to call them — but I do know the sound they make. The old wives tales say the sound means there is exactly six weeks left before the first frost and the end of summer.
This is the Line Drawing of the Engine
End of summer! Six weeks? You’ve got to be kidding me! I have at least a week of engine work to do, when I finally get the damn thing. I’ll be lucky to get out of Lake Michigan by the end of August, leaving me with two weeks before the first frost and the end of summer. I still have two Great Lakes to go, minimum, just to get out of here. Believe me, we are ready to be gone.
Oh, the pressure, the stress of this leisure, relaxing, cruising life. I admit that perhaps I am completely loosing it; my insanity is really starting to show. I spent the morning trying to devise a way to armor plate the hull, so when the November winds start blowing, and my fat, old, heavy boat can double as an ice breaker. I worry about silly things – Will the hurricane west winds blow? Will we go down? Will church bells toll? Will Gordon Lightfoot write another song? Who knows, maybe “The Wreck of the Nereus Fitzgerald” would be a hit! Perhaps I can get royalties from the song and help pay for the new engine. I have a ship’s bell, so it can be recovered and put into the shipwreck museum up in Saulte St. Marie. I should call them and make the arrangements now. Maybe next to the bell, they could put a box for donations to pay for the new engine.
This is the Engine not Installed in the Boat
Perhaps we should just skip the engine. I mean, it is a sailboat, after all. Transiting the Erie Barge Canal might be a problem, though. Does anyone know if I can still hire a mule – preferably named Sal? Even fifteen miles a day on the canal is better than we are doing now.
So, we are still sitting here, waiting patiently for our prize. To help pass the time, we’ve developed some new activities. My favorite is going to the boat, sitting, and staring at the empty engine pan while accomplishing nothing. Another is making lists of all the things we need to do, then throwing it away. Reviewing maps and charting routes we will never take is also fun. Binga likes to sit and stare at the television until her eyes start to water. This brings to light another pastime, staring at Binga staring at the television until our eyes water, too.
Well, I thought I’d just give a brief update here for those of you who regularly read this site. Everything here is fine.
– Steve