An evening sail: reflection #1

Heavy, dark clouds to the south of us made their way single file toward the east.  For a few seconds, small rain drops spattered onto and around us, almost discouraging us from taking the boat out. 

Just south of us, against the abandoned grain mill on the east side of the City Ship Canal, a rainbow entered the water.  I’d never been so close to a rainbow, and I can tell you, there was no pot o’ gold sitting on the canal’s service, either. 

A few minutes later the sky directly west of us began to lighten up again.

We – my brother Kevin and I – dropped the lines and motored out, north in the canal, past the vestiges of Buffalo’s history as a major Great Lakes port, and by the new Canalside, which is a new, vibrant park along Buffalo’s Inner Harbor.

The wind was from the southwest, a steady 10 –to-12 knot wind, Force 3-ish on the Beaufort, the sky now blue and the sun the yellow color of early evening. 

After passing the outer breakwall (the North Gap), we unfurled and trimmed the sails, set the course on a close reach with our only goal to have a nice relaxing sail. 

I looked west toward Canada, and southwest to the horizon, the open lake.  The storm had scared all other boats away for the night.  Innisfree was the only boat out there.  The water rushed by the hull, boiled at the stern and fell away with a gurgle.  I went below to turn on some music, but my brother told me to keep it off so he could hear the sound. 

We sailed in silence for a while.  I was able to forget about my long list of tasks at work, the never-ending deadlines and the need to please everyone.

On the way back, a few projects crept back into my head.  At least for a while I left them all in our wake.

Boarded by the Coast Guard

Sailing Log, Friday, 6/13/2014

 

This is the tenth summer I’ve had a boat. 

Last night was the first time I’ve ever had the Coast Guard come aboard. 

My four kids and I were headed back to the dock from a nice Friday night sail; the sun was between the clouds and the horizon, so there was a nice orange glow in the sky.  Michele, my wife, was at a dinner party so it was just our kids and I out on the boat.

On our way back into the Inner Harbor, as we passed the Little Rock, I noticed a small Coast Guard boat head in our direction.  As we motored slowly toward the City Ship Canal, it passed us, turned around and came up on our portside stern quarter.  Two Coastguardsmen stood on the rail of the powerful boat as it approached.

 

"Have you been boarded by the Coast Guard this season?" one of them called out to me. 

After I answered no, he said, "Permission to board your vessel?"

I didn't think I had a choice.

After they asked me the best spot on the boat to come aboard, the helmsman steered his boat directly against ours.  The Coast Guard boat’s hull is wrapped in a rubber bumper, which allows the helmsman to drive up and basically rub against the hull of our boat without damaging it. 

My 14-year-old daughter looked frightened, the same look she had when I was pulled over for speeding in 2006 coming back from my sister's house in Dayton.  

My 12-year-old son came bounding up the companionway steps to tell me something, when he saw the two guys with guns at their sides; he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide. 

Their sisters continued playing and laughing below, unaware that we were just boarded. 

The men explained that they were doing a safety check, I could keep heading to our dock and they’ll be off quickly.  I thought it was nice that one of them asked me if it was “OK” that he step down into the cockpit of our boat.  Very polite.

The two went to work, asked for my license, whether I had enough life vests on board for everyone, where my flares were, looked for my fire extinguishers, other life equipment, went below and checked the engine compartment, etc. 

During the whole time, I wasn’t nervous, but I wasn’t totally calm inside, either.  I wasn’t sure what would happen if they found something amiss, and I was pretty sure I was fully compliant with the safety equipment and rules, but there is still the uncertainty….

As we headed down the Ship canal, I knew I was in for a difficult docking since the wind was coming from a direction I wasn’t used to. I was hoping they were planning on staying until we docked.  But after about 10 minutes, they were done, thanked me for my time, hailed their boat over, and jumped off. 

 

Star-Thoughts

As my first blog entry, I'm kicking it off as a #TBT post.  I wrote this in spring of 1990 as a junior at John Carroll University.  It was late in the evening, dark out, as I headed back to my dorm from Grasselli Library.  The night was warm and when I looked up into the sky, I was struck by the numerous stars. I had begun thinking alot about my future, what to do with my life, where it was going, and conceived this poem as I imagined myself on a beach, under the stars, comtemplating what was to come of my life.

This poem appeared in the John Carroll literary magazine, The Carroll Quarterly , in 1990 or 1991.

Star-Thoughts

Under the black blanket of night
spotted with the lint-like stars,
I sit, listening to the clicking of the crickets,
not alone,
but in the company of contemplative thoughts,
thinking of things which enlighten, frighten, mystify me.

Memories of the past,
moments of the present,
and Possibilities of the future twinkle in my mind
and set my soul upon a quest
to work the world as it's not.

As numerous as the stars are my dreams and hopes;
The cold ground holds reality
to which the crickets call me back and tell me
here is now, and there, are things to be.
Life is living reality.

Time trickles through my fingers
as the sand gets colder, harsher to sit on.
In the East dawns a delicate day of expectations realized and crushed,
Opportunities seized and missed.
Star-thoughts fade and forgot, the day embraced and kissed.

(c) John Fisher