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.