As a young boy I lived by a marine lake. I suppose I was around 10 years old and I used to take myself down to the water to watch the small sailing dinghies. Most were dinghies called ‘cadets’ and one day a boy asked me if I wanted to have a sail with him. I loved it although I found the thing quite scary as the power of the wind was a whole new thing to understand. Over time I would help people launch and recover their boats and occasionally I would be given a sail in gratitude. Somehow this flimsy experience translated in my mind to me being fully competent in all things sailing. I definitely wasn’t. I somehow persuaded Liz that as we lived in the USA by the water, buying a sailing boat was a must. Tenacity had 4 berths a diesel motor and was 30 feet long.!!!
Our first outing was quite a thing. Tenacity was moored on a river in a sort of a bay. The way to the sea in this case The Long Island Sound involved around 2 miles of gentle motoring before the river broadened out. Unusually the river went under the main railway line from Boston to New York. The mast of ours and most other sailing boats was too high to go under the bridge. As a result the bridge had to be lifted and lowered. The boats had some historic right of way.
We set off the diesel engine burbling. Liz and I with me reassuring Liz I had it all ‘under control’-I didn’t. We approached the bridge and I ‘ordered’ Liz to call the signal box via our short wave radio. Many years later Liz and I became fully qualified ‘Yacht masters’ but back then we did not realise that there were international conventions regarding VHF radio-oops. ‘Come in bridge’ Liz spoke in her best English accent-always helped! ‘This is sailing boat Tenacity’. I should add it was early spring and whilst a sunny day the water was still very cold. ‘Come in Tenacity’ the reply. “Request passage under bridge”. ‘Please wait” Slowly the bridge began to rise and as it did a silver and blue Amtrak train came onto sight. It was probably on its way to new York or Washington from Boston. It stopped it had to because we were going through!
The bridge behind us we headed down the river and the sea breeze coupled with the incoming tide on the outgoing river caused Tenacity to pitch up and down. Liz was alarmed I was too but feigned calm. The river wide now I ordered Liz to raise the sails. She unfurled the foresail and but as she did so one of the sheets (the rope you pull in to set the sail) went over the side. There was a clunk and the engine stopped. I tried to restart it but no success. I quickly realised the rope was wrapped around the prop. panic. I looked around and saw that Tenacity was being blown towards the side of the river where there were rocks! “Drop the anchor” I yelled. The description of ‘hardly used’ on the sale particulars became horribly real as Liz opened the anchor hatch and produced the lump of metal. Unfortunately it was without any rope. I found some in one of the cupboards and quickly tied it on. Threw the line out and hoped. The anchor held but the wind was building and the ‘sea on tide’ phenomenon was becoming alarming. I quickly calculated but one option which was to go over the side and cut the rope. As I said before it was cold.
As I mentioned in an earlier post Americans are very funny about nudity. For some reason I stripped off and lowered myself into the water via the rear ladder. It was agony. About waist deep I became aware of a launch approaching. Riverside Yacht Club was and is probably as prestigious as any club on the planet. Millions of dollars of sailing boats decorate its exclusive moorings. The club barge was heading our way to offer help. It set up in a circle. ‘Are you OK do you need help?’ ” No fine thank you”. I lowered myself head deep and tried to stay calm in the freezing conditions before plunging beneath the boat bread knife in hand. Somehow I dived down and started cutting, I managed to cut my finger at the same time!. Emerging for air the barge was still circulating and I noticed that there were at least two women on board. Down again, frantic cutting and at last the rope came away. I surfaced gasping for air. ‘Are you OK?” the shout again. ‘ Yes thank you” still it held station. There I was freezing and naked with an audience. For a reason I cannot explain Liz handed me a pair of pants that were in the tool box. They were in fact an old pair of her knickers! Her thinking was that keeping my clothes dry for when back on board was a good idea as I needed to cover myself and in doing so I would soak any clothes. The knickers on I merged from the water in full view of the barge and its passengers. It was probably a good thing it was cold as women knickers have less room in the crutch than mens for obvious reasons. I climbed back on board displaying my lace covered arse to the onlookers.
The engine thankfully restarted I put on my clothes and we bumbled off. Liz asked me a straight question. ‘You don’t know what you are doing do you?’ “err no sorry’! We motored off waving to the barge. Going out to sea was out of the question. I was shivering and traumatised. I suspect the barge passengers may have been too. We could not go straight back and stop the trains again so we just burbled around. We discovered the stove had no gas canister the loo had a leak and various other things. After a couple of hours we returned to our berth me somewhat embarrassed.
Liz as ever was very forgiving. She saw the funny side of the whole thing. Typical of her she signed up on a course and learned all the basics. It was not long before Tenacity and team `Elliott’ were on the high seas. The start of many nautical adventures.
Tales of a Life Well Lived 