Sunday

Sunday

Today is Fathers day, one of the most played down holidays there is. Lets face it Mothers Day has about the same power as Christmas, if you forget it, you might as well start packing your bags. You’re out in the proverbial doghouse for a week.

I was told by Lina to sleep in so she could bring me coffee in bed. At eight-thirty I decided to get up, both Victor and Lina were still snoring away, so I went out on the back porch to soak in the morning sun. Karin was just returning from a walk with the dog and it was then we figured there was no point in waiting any longer. We decided coffee was in order on the porch and let the kids continue to sleep.

We have an old sailboat up here at the cabin, something Karin and her friend Sussi got for free. Just being in the right place at the right time, they met a man who just wanted to get rid of an old boat and trailer. With a little paint and work we had the thing back up and running. Two years later its still being used and the only thing it could use now are some new sails.

The wind was blowing this morning so we decided to pull the plywood off the top and clean out all the dead leaves from winter storage. A couple of spider webs and paper wasp nests had to be carefully cleaned out, but soon it was ready to try out in the water.

We headed off to the East arm of Jordanelle Reservoir. The Sunday boaters were out in full force. It was father’s day on the water. Within minutes we had the mast on and were backing the boat down the ramp, getting the old sail on in a strong wind was not easy. And soon Karin was swearing from being clipped in the head from the boom. Strong gusts were playing havoc on the small boat. Victor and Karin decided to try it first, as we pushed them out into the water. The boom swung around again narrowly missing their heads. A few minutes later they were across the arm of the reservoir and working their way back across in the classic tack. By the time they came back to our side they had progressed forward about a hundred feet. The steady head wind made it hard to cover any distance, but added excitement as Victor leaned into a nice tilt, high up on the starboard side for a ride back across. Hollers were heard from Karin, as she told Victor to be more careful. He increased the tilt and flew across to the other side.

An hour later we caught sight of them again, the sail out all the way, as they rode the winds back to the launch site. It was Lina and my turn now.

Victor pushed us out as the boom swung around and clobbered me in the head. I cursed the stupid boom for being so damn low, fit for a munchkin. We found ourselves racing across in the same fashion, with some of the gusts picking the small craft up to tipping levels with us. Lina was soon asking if it was time to head back, but I wanted to try and get forward at least a little down the arm of the reservoir. My pay off was another whack to the head by the boom. I vowed to look at the Internet for new sails. Ours was so old and stretched out that the boom was dropping down at the end, making it next to impossible for me to stoop low enough so as to avoid being hit.

We made it back in one piece and are now relaxing with a gin and tonic back at the cabin. Chicken is on the menu for tonight.

Richard Boyer