By Erik Dolson
I’ve always lived by the motto, “Too much is nearly enough.” But the balls-out-boogie approach means you don’t know the limits until you’ve gone just past them. Okay, sometimes quite a ways past. Blame it on momentum.
It was lovely in Port Townsend three days ago when I checked out Foxy’s new winter moorage. Disappointed that COVID is keeping us out of Victoria for yet another year, but I’d planned for the possibility. Meandered up to Friday Harbor where Foxy was moored to a ball in the harbor and climbed on board just before a storm hit with rain and wind gusts of nearly 40 miles an hour.
I hunkered down with a Costco chicken and cans of soup as tides pushed the boat one way, the wind another, and there was no way of knowing which line was banging the mast. Last night the wind howled so loudly I was awake until at least 2 a.m., but it was still dark when I fell asleep and light when I woke, so I called it a night’s sleep.
I forgot breakfast while preparing for the trip across the Strait of Juan de Fuca the next day. It would be easier to leave from the dock since I wanted to catch the favorable tide at first light, rather than fight the mooring ball in the dark. It’d also been a while since I’d docked the boat and wanted to familiarize myself with the routine.
Though it was raining hard, it was calm as I motored across the channel, spun Foxy about and tied port side at the end of “A” dock.
I helped a couple tie up their boat and noticed I was little light headed when I stood back up from the bull rail. It happened again when a blue steel trawler needed a hand on the other side. I knew my blood pressure was low and reminded myself to cut back on that medication prescribed before blood thinners were needed because of the stent installed to my heart two weeks ago.
I’d promised myself breakfast at The Bean, my favorite spot in town for a ham, bacon and cheddar quiche and a 16 oz., coffee with cream.
In a rare moment of adulting, I decided that riding my unicycle up a wet dock when I had mild vertigo wasn’t smart. Leaving it behind also allowed me to fixate on the set of 75 stairs, in five or so flights, that lead from the harbor into town. Six months ago I ran up them, three months ago pressure in my chest made me take a pass. This morning I was not happy to stop once to let the spins slow down.
I needed food, and added an espresso brownie to my morning fueling. The Bean closed at 1 p.m., so I headed out. On the way back to the boat, I glared at the damn stairs. You don’t know your limits until you find them. Stopping was not allowed. Success made me smile.
At the boat, I noticed a hose spigot nearby, so decided to fill the water tanks. I crawled into the lazarette for the hose. Since the hose was out, I decided to scrub seagull shit off the solar panels and climbed up the arch with my deck brush. Bug the Dink (dinghy) was mucky from the month and a half he’d waited in the marina for my return, so he received a scrubbing as well.
Fresh water also meant salt could be washed from the anchor chain, so all 250 feet, about 400 pounds, were pulled out of the forward hold and played out on deck in five rows to be sprayed down. Since I was in the forward hold, I got small and curled into position to remove the water speed sensor and cleaned the wheel of some weird little critters that had made its crevices their home.
I slipped past the spare anchors to pull the knot of rope that follows the anchor chain free of the navel pipe, then fed the 250 feet of chain back into the locker. The deck where the chain had left residue of mud, salt and detritus needed to be hosed down.
At about 4 p.m. I decided that the chores were done, I was tired, and poured the last of morning’s coffee from the thermos into my cup. When I sat down I realized that I’d not gone light headed since breakfast, despite the exertions and contortions.
Tomorrow at first light I’ll single hand this boat across the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Should take less than six hours. Foxy is ready for the trip, and I think I am too.
I know that anchor, that thermos, that heart. Nice to know that they are all in working order (smile) ~Clementine