Independence!

Happy belated 4th of July everybody!
I'm going to try and not gripe about the lengthy (and quite amazing) blog post I just wrote over the course of about 45 minutes only to have it deleted and sent off into Cyberspace!
Here in Sheboygan they go all out to celebrate out Nation's independence.  They have a big run/walk in the morning, some military airplanes fly over downtown, there's a parade all morning, they have a cardboard boat race in the river, there are bonfires down on the beach, and of course they have awesome fireworks at nightfall.
I had Spencer come down at 7:30 to help me put up the sails and cast off.  All went without a hitch.  (He did have to run forward to kick the bow away from another boat we almost collided with as we were waiting to build up some speed).  I was so happy to actually pull away from land and be sailing on my very own boat.  After all the waiting, working, paying, and worrying; I was finally out sailing! 

I was amazed at how well she moved despite the light air and being very heavy boat with small sails.  The wind was just at the perfect angle so we could head out of the harbor and sail over to the beach.  My boat only draws 3.5 feet of water, so I was able to pull up really close to the beach.  Spencer and I dropped anchor in about 7 feet of crystal clear water.  I could see the ripples in the sand, and the schools of minnows circling in the shade underneath Aequitas. Spencer donned the snorkeling gear to try and snap some pictures of the boat from the water.  Although the air was in the 80's this is still Wisconsin and the water temperature was quite frigid.  I could hardly believe how much he was complaining about the cold and how quickly he scrambled back up on deck.  And this was in a full wetsuit!

  I towed the dinghy along so I could more easily ferry people from ship to shore.  I dropped my brother off on shore so he could go enjoy the festivities, and I rowed back to my little floating home.  The wind had died, so I decided to try out the water for myself.  HOLY COW IT WAS COLD!  I thought Spencer was exaggerating.  I could hardly breathe, and nothing mattered more than getting back to the boat.

I read a chapter in Jessica Watson's book, and then I ran my swim ladder up the mast so I could climb up to the spreaders and take a look around.  The view was worth the effort, but I felt a little uneasy not knowing how much stress the rig could take.

The wind picked up again after I got back down, so I weighed anchor and took off on my own for a little sail.  The Bristol 24 handled beautifully in the wind, I could easily reach both jib sheets, and trimming to the wind was as easy as could be.  After a little while I headed back in for a drink of water and a bathroom break.  I dropped anchor close to shore again, and made sure to let out plenty of line so that the anchor wouldn't get yanked free.  I took time to snap a few pictures as I rowed to shore.

I pulled the dinghy high up on the beach by a couple of boys building a sandcastle.  "Is that your boat?" they asked.  "Why yes. Yes it is" I said in my best yes-am-a-super-hero-and-you-can-grow-up-to-be-like-me-someday voice.  They asked if it would sail off since I left the sails up.  I explained that I had an anchor in the sand; as I spoke the boat swung itself around like a dog chained to a fencepost.

As I made my way across the scorching sand to the bathrooms I decided to take a picture with my cell phone.  I turned around and flipped open my phone just in time to see my boat start to take off on its own.  I was instantly filled with horror as my boat gathered speed and reminded of One-Eyed Willy's ship in The Goonies sailing off into the sunset under its own power.  I ran to the dinghy, shoved off and began rowing like a madman.  I was rowing all out, but I couldn't seem to gain on my little sloop.  She was hundreds of yards off shore and getting closer and closer to the rocky pier with every second.  I prayed that I would be able to catch my boat and avert disaster, but the simple math of the situation was showing that I would be futile in catching my accelerating vessel.  Would it hit the rocks, would it hit some kids, how extensive would the damage be, how did this happen?  My mind was racing with questions, and my arms were quickly tiring from the exertion.  All of a sudden my boat turned towards the beach, she didn't slow at all, but at least now she wasn't going to hit rocks, I was worried that she'd hit some kids and I'd be in a whole ton of trouble for leaving the boat unattended.  Miraculously Aequitas ran aground on a sand bar and came to a full stop.  I caught up and scolded my boat for her bad behavior.  Luckily it was shallow enough that I could just turn the boat around and push her off.  It was surprisingly easy to get her unstuck seeing as she weighs a portly 6,000 pounds.  I'm loving the design of the Bristol 24 more and more by now.

Apparently the swinging motion had sawed through the anchor rode and now my new anchor and several feet of chain were sitting somewhere on the bottom of the lake.  The water was clear, and I had the kids' sandcastle as a landmark, so I spent the next half hour criss-crossing the area I thought the anchor would be at looking for the telltale signs of the scratches the chain would have left in the sand, or the silver gleam of the anchor.  Back and forth, spiral, over and over with no result.  If I didn't find the anchor then I would have to stay on the boat all day, or beach it every time I wanted to get people aboard. 

Spencer swam out and commandeered the dinghy to go pick up my friend Stephanie and bring her aboard.  We commenced the search and within 7 minutes I saw a grey fin protruding from the sandy bottom with no chain in sight.  We made a wide sweeping turn (about the only choice in a Bristol) to make another pass.  Considering the difficulty of finding the anchor the first time I wasn't sure if I'd get a second shot.  As soon as I caught a glimpse of it again I spilled the sails and handed the tiller over to Stephanie and instructed her to keep sailing in circles.  Before I could even check if she knew how I dove over the side towards the lost artifact a little more than a fathom below.  The water hadn't warmed up much, and this time I had no wetsuit to insulate me, but the excitement of finally finding my lost property cancelled out the cold.  I made my way through the clear waters and began pulling up the anchor and the chain with it.  It must have weighed over 50 pounds, and since I couldn't tread water with that much weight I just walked along the bottom, popping up for air every now and then.  Eventually I got within reach of my boat, but the problem then was that Aequitas was still moving too fast and if Stephanie couldn't maneuver it closer I might miss it all together.  I dove one more time and kicked hard off the sandy bottom propelling myself just high enough out of the water to grasp the side with one hand.  I handed the anchor to Steph and then clambered on deck to rest a bit.

After the excitement I had more friends on board.  My family came out as well.  My nephew, Noah, was a little bit angry at first cause he couldn't swim, but then we had a grand ole' time touching the marker buoy, diving off, and soaking up the plentiful sunshine.

 

To wrap it all up I had friends out on the boat and we watched the fireworks as we sailed slowly and silently out around the pier.  As the fireworks died down and all the motor boats headed in we were left alone under a starry sky with nothing to disrupt the peace but the sound of the dinghy being pulled along behind like a somewhat reluctant toddler.  We made it in safe and sound under sail, and the girls helped fold the sails.  All in all the boat was out of the slip for about 16 hours.  It was the perfect day.