Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down

Sunday, May 31 9:30 am

“Well I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt.

And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad, so I had one more for dessert.

Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt.

An’ I shaved my face and combed my hair, an’ stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.”

That, friends, is the first verse of a song called “Sunday Morning Coming Down” written by Kris Kristofferson back in 1970 or thereabouts. You can find it on the album “Silver Tongued Devil and I” which is one of the all-time great albums. Kristofferson, for you young’ns, is not just the old guy helping out Wesley Snipes in the “Blade” movies. He is arguably one of our greatest living songwriters. Ever hear “Me and Bobby Magee”?

Anyway, the verse above pretty much describes me this am.

Some glitch on the home front prevented Ziggy and Eve from coming last night, so I went to Uri’s, a nice establishment fronting the harbor here in Port Sanilac. Sat down at the bar next to a coupla’ guys named Ed and Art. We talked fishing, zebra mussels, bachelorette parties, diving, the merits of sailing vs. powerboating, the Wings (won 3-1; we completely missed the last goal), and life in general. At one point Art and I were hitting Ed over the head with our ball caps. I forget what that was all about. Had to leave at one point to go down to Pleiades and close the forward hatch and turn on the heater. Port Sanilac was expected to set a new low temperature of about 35 degrees last night and I didn’t want to come home to a cold boat.

Well, the Wings finally won and I stumbled down to the docks. At some point it occurred to me that, y’know, this could be dangerous. Three-foot wide docks, wind blowing like a banshee, the boat heaving – yeah, bring it on. The wind was on our starboard beam and pushing the boat right up against the dock. I tried to pull on the aft line to get some room, but couldn’t move the boat for the wind. Finally, I went to the port side and managed to push off the dock enough to drop a fender down. Then I went back to the aft line and took in the slack. Seemed to do the trick – no dock rubbing the rest of the night. Now, if I could just figure out how to tie up that damned halyard that keeps banging away…

So, I’m shuffling off to the showers this am and passed a dad and his little girl. She was wearing a life jacket (good job, dad) and was obviously scared of the water. She wouldn’t even put her foot in the water coming out of the tap that dad had turned on. I swear I heard him whisper to her as I passed “See, Honey, if you drink, you end up like that old rummy.”

Edit: They’re BAAAACCCCK! Just saw a Union soldier and his date from Tara (wearing, I think, the Carol Burnett special sans curtain rods). Will the belly dancers do an encore? Will Grant challenge Lee to a pissing contest? Do any of these people have lives? Enquiring minds want to know! Stay tuned as your intrepid reported pursues this hot lead! Peggy, Cindy, Mike – hold the presses. I never made a single deadline anyway!

Seriously, now - Abe Lincoln and belly dancers??

Saturday, May 30, 2009

OK, I can take the laptop out of the stove now. (I should just let that statement hang there, 'cuz sailors would know what I'm talking about. However, for you landlubber-types, in a thunderstorm, you put the electronics in the metal oven if you're on a boat. It's supposed to protect the electronic innards in the unlikely event of a lightning strike.) The implication is that we just had an afternoon thunderstorm. (Donnervetter, for Dieter.)

This was a day of cultural highs and lows. Last night was Leno's last time hosting the Tonight Show. Vicki reminded me just in time to catch it in the Club House at the marina. Classy exit, for those of you who missed it. He had Conan O'Brian as his sole guest, effectively handing off the show to Conan. He had James Taylor singing "Sweet Baby James" after reminiscing about moving to the west coast seventeen years ago and hearing the refrain "Ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go." Then he introduced his wife, saying she was in the audience his first show and is still there. But as tribute to his staff, he talked about how there has been very little turnover the entire time, and that in fact, many of his staff met on the show, married, and had families. He very subtly and respectfully invoked Johnny Carson's legacy. Then he talked about his legacy, what he wanted it to be, and he opened a curtain to reveal the 50+ kids that have been born to his staff over the years and announced that he wants his legacy to be that these kids know that mom and dad met on the set of the Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Classy act.

Fast forward to this am, when I am trying to get the video feed to work for Alex's crew race. The computer (read: old, slow, HP, Windoze) unit in the Club House did not have the right plugin (Microsoft Silverlight) for Firefox to stream the video. So, for the first time in a very long time, I actually had to install an executable file on a PC. OMG, am I glad I have Arlene. "Do you want to allow this? Do you want to allow that?" Yes - just install the damn thing already. Then when it finally does install thirty minutes later, the video is real choppy (possibly due to the slow processor.) So I run out to the boat to get Arlene, bring her back to the Club House, and proceed to use the wifi to install the streaming program. One click and a verification later I have streaming video. So, finally I have two video streams going, and they are rarely in sync with each other - one is Ethernet and the other wifi. At one point, I can find out who won by watching the women slumped over their oars on the PC, while Arlene is showing the race at the 1500-m mark. Strange, this streaming videocast...

Ithaca took fourth place as a team. The 2V boat (Alex's boat) was last in the Petite Final and the 1V was fourth in the Grand Final. I couldn't believe the times for the Williams and Trinity boats - dropped about 20 seconds from the initial heats. Maybe they "broke bad", if you know what I mean... Congratulations to the Ithaca team and Becky for a great season!

After noon, I noticed that the parking lot had been blocked off and a bunch of people were standing around in Civil War regalia. Turns out that there was a re-enactment going on at the waterfront park right next door to the marina. Now, I didn't go over to inspect this phenomena closely, since I think that Civil War re-enactors are only one step away from the plastic army men I gave up playing with at age 8. However, I did notice that they were having Lincoln debate Steven Douglass again (I wonder who won this time?) and that everyone (all 20 or so) seemed to be having a good time. I was busy trying to pry the propane tanks out of the aft hatch to take up to the hardware store for filling. As I walked past the park, however, I was taken aback (read: crapped my pants laughing) by the group of three belly dancers in "I Dream of Jeannie" outfits who were doing their best shimmy routine for Abe and Co. I didn't have the heart to sidle over and try and snap a picture - I could not have maintained and besides, Jeremy would have found a way to post the picture of Abe and three belly dancers to the WTF category of Reddit. And I wouldn't have blamed him. I don't know in what parallel universe belly dancers are associated with the Civil War. Or, maybe I have a completely wrong idea about Clara Barton - who knows?

Tonight (in one hour) they are going to have a Civil War dance with Joe Bilgewater and the Stonefish (or something like that). There will be uniforms and hoop skirts whooping it up. Maybe even belly dancers. I will be forced to exercise my long-dormant powers of investigatory journalism (take THAT, Peggy Bakken!) and report on developments for those of you thirsty for cultural updates. Right now, I'm thirsty for another beer. (Note to Marty - Misson St. Pale Ale. Ooh, yeah...)

Edit: The Civil War cancelled by imminent thunderstorms. Moved to community hall. Lee and Grant unavailable for comment.

Edit 2 (June 1): Here's the link from the local newspaper.

http://www.sanilaccountynews.com/stories/051309/loc_20090513088.shtml

"Only on Saturday Anne Elizabeth Moss and Company-belly dancers will perform in five 20 minutes sessions in the park; harkening back to similar dancers and other interesting characters who followed the troops around throughout the Civil War. " Hello..., they were called "hookers."

Massage Day

Friday, May 29, 2009 10:30 pm

Krystyna treated me to my first massage at her spa. The spa is beautiful – Ziggy did a great job in renovating the building. I can see why people make the pilgrimage to Beverly Hills (MI) to go there. The spa got a real good review in a major Detroit publication and Krystyna’s real proud of that. Thanks to Sandy for the massage – my muscles are still sore (hope that’s what’s supposed to happen). Krystyna’s European Spa, Beverly Hills, MI. Check it out, ladies. You never know – you might find me there.

Shopped at Trader Joe’s for the first time. Caroline used to wax poetic about TJ’s and it is pretty cool. We filled the shopping cart to overflowing with provisions for the trip. Hope Alex likes spaghetti. The liquor cabinet still has room for two bottles of single-malt scotch. That’s tomorrow.

Shouts out to:

Joe and Michelle. For some reason, the emails I send keep bouncing back. Glad you’re back on this side of the pond. Keep emailing and we’ll connect eventually.

Mac. Talked to your Mom today and offered a ride on Wings if you’re back in the Keweenaw later this summer. Keep it real, buddy.

Alex. The Ithaca crew team is rowing in the NCAA Div III Championships this weekend. Kinda sucks when you’re in the first heat against the Williams 1V. Ziggy said it’s too bad we don’t have Pleiades on the East Coast because then we could ram the Williams boat. The Ithaca 2V time in the Petite Qualifier was incredible! I think they stand a good chance of taking the Petite Final. If the 1V takes the Grand Final, Ithaca could take home the team championship. Fingers are crossed. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get enough wifi signal to watch the race online tomorrow, but I’ll be trying.

Oh, and by request: A map of our route so far. Will update as needed.

Lazy Day

Thursday, May 28, 2009 7:30 pm

Lazy day in Port Sanilac. Serious fog most of the morning, with clouds and rain all afternoon. Rearranged the locker, napped, walked around, napped, ate, surfed – tough day.

Port Sanilac is a beautiful little harbor. There is an underwater preserve offshore with numerous wrecks for divers. The town boasts the oldest continually operated hardware store in Michigan (since 1850). The town is neat and clean and dying. Too bad – this is such a pretty area. Lots of old houses that people have tried to make into B&Bs. Most have for sale signs in front. Overheard some locals in Mary’s Diner at breakfast; they were ruminating about the lack of work to attract younger people to the town.

Port Sanilac is trying to make it on tourism. There’s a dive shop, a sailing school, several boat brokerages – but this is probably repeated ad infinitum all along the coast. Nothing to make it a “must visit” place. The town must have gotten money to spruce up their streets. They have wrought iron benches every hundred feet or so and nice brickwork with inlaid pictures of sailboats and lighthouses. Looks nice, but don’t know if it’s going to help.

Ziggy is picking me up tonight to take me to Walled Lake. Tomorrow is a big shopping day. We pick up Eve either Friday night or Saturday.

Port Sanilac

Wednesday, May 27

“When at sea, sit to pee.” The old sailor’s adage (and not just for old sailors). So, the run around the thumb was a bit rough – 3-5 foot waves on our nose the whole time. The channel out from Bay City is very narrow to the NE. We tried to use the Genoa, but even sheeted in as tightly as possible it was luffing. So, back to motoring. The wind shifted conveniently as we turned to the SE in the evening. Kept right on our nose all the way down the lake.

Now, Pleiades is a stout little boat, but the ride was something else. As best as I can describe it, imagine a Tilt-a-Whirl mounted on top of a roller coaster. Now do that for 20 hours straight. Ah, you get used to it – we took turns sleeping in the cockpit until it got too cold. I have a great appreciation for Pleiades’ dodger (the canvas that goes over the cockpit with windows to keep the spray out).

OK, the coffee runs through and must be taken care of. Just making my way through the cabin to the head in the bow is a challenge. Then I have to “sit to pee”. With the toilet making nine-foot vertical excursions every time we go through a wave. Seriously, that’s my best estimate from the cockpit – the bow goes up and down three times the height of the lifelines (about nine feet) in five-foot waves. Now, normally, this is not an issue for guys; keep feet firmly planted, brace a shoulder, spray all over the place. Life is good. But you don’t do that in heavy weather. So turn, drop ‘em, bend knees, and up comes the seat to meet you real nice and friendly like. At about 60 miles an hour. With your precious jewels hanging down, hopefully hitting the hole. And riding the waves, rising off the seat every so often (doesn’t this violate some law of physics)? Ah, now you’re done – you begin to straighten your knees to rise up and promptly launch yourself into the air, having timed the next wave trough perfectly. And there you hang, poised for either takeoff or crash landing, with your pants between your ankles and your eyes bugged out like Marty Feldman in Young Frankenstein. Briefly you think “This would make a great picture”; then you remember the internet and change your mind.

So back to the cockpit, where I imagine myself as Cap’n Kirk with more primitive instruments. The speedo, wind, and depth are all in red for night vision and mounted directly above the companionway. The chartplotter, autopilot and radar are arrayed in front of me. I have this big-ass wheel to turn, except the autopilot won’t let me. I hunch down in my foulies, keeping a watchful eye for Khan, or at least Romulans.

“Scotty, we need warp speed”

“Captain, I’m giving you all I can - she won’t take much more.”

Blast, time to sacrifice another crew member…

Of course, Kirk had the inky black of space to look out into – I have this ugly water. Oh, did I forget to mention the lightning storm? That we had to go right through? You’ve read descriptions of the sea surface during foul weather (Joseph Conrad, etc.) and how it’s a mottled gray-black oily appearance? Yeah, that’s exactly what it looks like. So, between the radar image of the storm and the liquid death rushing by the rail, I’m almost forgetting that I can see my breath. Actually, I was pretty warm. I was certainly dry. Ziggy was freezing. He had a blanket wrapped around him during his watch. I don’t know how much it helped.

So I have a great appreciation for: 1) dry foulies, 2) those poly base-layer shirts I had to convince myself to buy; I may live in them from now on, 3) fleece (thanks, Goodwill), 4) hot coffee (despite the high probability that I will spray boiling water all over before I get the cup full (and then spill half the cup just getting back to the cockpit), 5) short hair; the Bruce Willis look is looking more and more attractive.

We finally rolled into harbor at Port Sanilac at 4 am. Very little wind, easy docking. Went to bed and woke up to pea soup fog about 10 am. Good thing we made harbor last night.

Met Dave the Harbormaster, and had breakfast at a nice little home-style place. Back to the marina for a shower. Dropped the soap and came face to face with a maxipad hiding under the dressing seat. Stay classy, ladies… (Memo to self – inspect shower thoroughly before undressing completely.) Met a couple of guys and talked about the fog. Mentioned Bermuda. Got the whole story from one of the guys how he had gone through the canal to the Hudson. He had a 46 foot something or another and his buddy had a 48 foot trawler. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Sir, you have established that your dick is bigger than mine. Nothing to see here…move on…

Edit: It's now almost 8 pm. I had Dave the HM let me into the club house so that I can link to the wifi to post this. Fog is worse, if anything. Boy, am I glad we got in when we did.

Leaving Bay City

Tuesday, May 26^th. 7:45 am

We’re off. Cold sub sandwich for breakfast and wifi courtesy of the Saginaw Bay Yacht Club (thanks, guys). Winds were ferocious yesterday, with a small craft warning for all of Saginaw Bay. All evening heard the Coast Guard looking for two yahoos on jet-skis that were missing. Then last night heard a report of a drifting jet ski. Probably Darwinism in practice. Can’t believe anyone was stupid enough to go out on that water yesterday.

Wifi in Port Sanilac is supposed to be very spotty, so this may be the last update in a few days.

Cultural icon

Had to post this. No, it's not the world's biggest bra. It's a cement plant on the Saginaw River.

To pee or not to pee…

Monday, May 25, 2009. So, it’s seven am on Pleidaes in the Bay Harbor Marina and I have to go. Ziggy has suggested that we not make use of the head on the boat, but rather use the shore facilities. I agree, but not first thing in the am. So, swing out of the quarter-berth, on with pants, shoes, and fleece and off to the porta-potty. Ah, the life of a sailor.

Today we should be leaving Bay City for Port Sanilac. The winds are forecast to be steady, but mild. Looking at the charts last night we have a long stretch of dredged channel (~ 30 miles!) to get out into Lake Huron proper. Saginaw Harbor is very shallow outside the channel. Once we get out into deep water, we won’t see any buoys until Port Sanilac.

Two days ago (Saturday) we put up the bimini and dodger with the help of Krystyna and Vicki. Also got the inflatable dinghy launched and secured to the davits off the stern pulpit. Schlepped a bunch of stuff to the boat. (Note: MS Word accepts “schlepped” as a real word!) Yesterday we managed to get the sails installed, despite the wind. It got a little exciting when we discovered the roller furling assembly was broken. Put the genoa on the roller anyway – we’ll fix it in Buffalo when we drop the mast for the transit through the canal.

Bon Voyage, Keweenaw

So, tomorrow we're off. Vicki is taking me down to Midland. We'll meet Cap'n Ziggy on Saturday. Plans are to be on the water taking Pleiades around the "thumb" of Michigan on Monday.

Steve and Jill Auger got me some gag gifts as a going-away at KBC: Flares to signal for help, balloons to fill and throw at pirates, squirt guns to repel boarders, and a pirate kit in case I want to change sides.

The monkey is supposed to keep me company. It's a secret pirate monkey.