Free At Last!

Baltimore Harbor fireworks we enjoyed from the Federal Hill roof-deck of our friends Paul and Marguerite

So, after two more weeks, the mast is finally ready to go. Rick has been sanding, painting, and putting on new mast steps, while the boatyard guys have been putting in all new wiring, as well as replacing all of the various do-hickeys that were scraped off in the bridge accident. The painting turned out to be one of the most pesky tasks, because the weather had simply not cooperated. We had rain, or more accurately, a little bit of spitting every single day until after the 4^th of July. Plus, the temperatures were ungodly hot.

Rick steams Valkyrie over to the boatyard from Canton and I meet him there with my car. I’m hoping to catch some real “boaty” action, but mostly it’s just a lot of waiting around. 

I watch as the forklift pulls a motor boat out of the water.

 I suppose that’s how they get the boats onto this double-decker rack.

I especially like the container garden that’s being maintained at the end of the dock.  Somebody is really taking advantage of all the sunlight here, and it helps to beautify the industrial surroundings.

Top of the mast, with new equipment

There will be work to be done once the mast is back in, like connecting wires and bolting in the cabin table, but our hope is that we can get it all done today and then leave first thing in the morning. We watch as the boatyard guys do a kind of reverse version of taking out the mast. The crane arrives and they wheel over the mast to its spot beside the boat. Then they hook up the crane to the mast, haul it up to a vertical position, and lower it carefully into the boat.

The whole procedure takes up most of the day, the remaining work in re-connecting the moving parts still undone. Plus, we still have to do a big grocery run as well as last minute business involving the house we are about to leave behind. We’re both exhausted, so we decide to provision the boat tonight and leave the remaining mast work for the morning. Tomorrow we’ll leave the cars in the driveway at home, and take a cab down to the boat.

There is kind of a phenomenon among boating couples that Rick and I have observed over and over again. When anchoring or docking, a couple will split up their roles, one on the bow of the boat and the other at the helm. It doesn’t seem to matter which one is at which end of the boat – the husband will invariably be barking orders and swearing at his wife (we’ve seen the same dynamics among same-sex couples as well, by the way). Thankfully, Rick and I have managed to avoid this stereotype – that is, until today…

Rick needs to do something involving the mast that necessitates his climbing up about midway – twenty to twenty-five feet or so. My job is to spot him from down below, and he explains how I am to do this, but we’re in the taxi cab at the time and I really don’t have any idea what he is talking about. After our arrival at the boat he starts climbing the newly installed mast steps, wearing a harness of some sort that has lines he has rigged up to catch him in case he falls, or one of the steps should give way. The only flaw in his plan is that I’m the one who is supposed to be winding the line on one of the winches, and while winding winches is fairly simple, understanding how this all works is not.

He gets up there alright, but now he wants me to do something else. “Get a knife and cut the tape on the blim-blam-whosey-whats-it.”

You know, I’ve come a long way. I know my port from my starboard, my bow from my stern, and I know how to jibe and come about. It’s of course true that I continue to say, “going downstairs,” instead of “going down below,” and I still call it a “kitchen” and not a “galley”. But I do know the proper terms and what they mean. What the devil is a “blim-blam-whosey-whats-it”?

I clearly don’t know what Rick is referring to. “The blim-blam-whosey-whats-it – it’s right next to the shimmy-thing-a-ma-do-hicky – over THERE!” Well, he’s way up in the air, and from my vantage point it is impossible to tell where the heck “THERE” is.

And of course, it’s always helpful in these situations to speak much more loudly. “The BLIM-BLAM-WHOSEY-WHATS-IT!!!” Well that clears it right up.

Then, I’m supposed to get a knife and cut something? When my husband is suspended in air by cuttable things (they’re called lines, I do know that much)???!!!

It turns out that Rick was referring to the “intermediate staysail shroud” which was taped to the “forward lower shroud” (silly me). I was able to cut the tape, but the knife was totally inadequate and I had to use scissors – clearly a breach of sailorly equipment judging by the rolling of eyes that ensued – but together we got the job done. I think Rick is somewhat sobered by the thought of going up those steps in the future with me as the spotter.

The rest of the work takes quite a bit of time, particularly the cabin table which doesn’t fit quite the same way now that the mast has been altered. Rick does some master carpentry work, and finally in the late afternoon, we are ready to take off.

At long last, beyond the Key Bridge, we are on our way!