Reluctantly, We Start Our Migration South

Lower Lake Champlain
N 43 38.433 W 073 25.636

As I write this, Libby is at the helm and she is thoroughly enjoying herself. We are in the lower part of Lake Champlain, heading for Whitehall and the Champlain Canal. The lake is very narrow here, more like a river than a lake. When I awoke from my nap, Libby was quick to let me have it. "Your blog is wrong. Look around you. There are extensive marshes on either side of us." Ah so. I stand corrected. I was about to relieve her at the helm when she added, "And it is all unbelievably beautiful." Therefore, I decided to blog instead and to let her enjoy the scenery.

I have a bit of catching up to do. This week we spent two more days in Vergennes, then a day in Port Henry, and today we took the mast down at Chipman Point Marina. A lot transpired. Yesterday was our last sail before unstepping the mast. We took full advantage of it, sailing down the lake into an 15-20 knot southerly wind. Tarwathie and her crew did fine beating into the wind and we made fairly good time. Our goal for the day was the free dock near the boat launch ramp in Port Henry. I wanted to stay there for the night so that we could carry the sails up to the grass to fold them for stowage. It is impossible to fold a big sail properly while aboard the boat.

The free dock in Port Henry is actually meant for a dinghy dock. It is only one boat length away from the beach. Therefore, I had to be very careful not to overshoot the dock, lest we run aground on the beach. We had a strong wind blowing on shore which made it a lot tougher. I wanted to dock with the bow pointing out to ease departure in the morning. To make a long story short, I attempted a 180 degree turn ending with Tarwathie facing out, at zero velocity and right next to the dock. I blew it. Maybe I'm expert enough now to dock her properly 99 times of 100, but there's always the 100th case. I came in a too sharp an angle, and now we have fresh gouges in the hull on the port side. Sigh. It pains me to think how unblemished the paint job was on Tarwathie when we first saw her. She sure has battle scars now.

A lot of local people are fond of driving to the lake shore at this spot in Port Henry. Some walk their dogs. Some just sit in their cars and look out on the lake. I struck up a conversation with a man in his truck. His name was Gus. Gus kindly offered to drive me up to the supermarket in town. While riding, I learned a little about Gus' story. Gus is a native of the Port Henry area and he was a paratrooper in the Korean War. Before leaving, he had girl friend. The girl wanted to get married before he left, but Gus said, "No. I don't know if I'll come back." Well, when the war was over, the girl was married to some one else, and Gus married another woman. Now, 50 years later, the girl was a widow and Gus was a widower. They re-met, and now they are a couple once again. That's romantic. Gus is also handicapped and walks with a cane, but he manages to bag his deer every year, and to fish on the lake. Gus says that local people in Port Henry must drive 50 miles or more to find employment.

At the dock in Port Henry, Libby and I prepared the boat for unstepping the mast. (Libby likes to say demasting, but that word gives me the shivers. It is too close to dismasting which means to have your mast break off while sailing.) It only took us an hour, much less time than previously. Sadly, we are getting more expert at this stepping/unstepping business. This morning, we motored down to Chipman Point, and there we set another record in time and simplicity in unstepping. We arrived at the marina at 10:30 and the job was complete at 12:30. Two years ago, we needed a half day and an overnight stay on two occasions at Chipman Point. Nevertheless, it sadens us to unstep the mast. Tarwathie is seriously hobbled.

I plan to spend the night on the lock 12 wall in Whitehall. I'll look for a WiFi to post this blog. Be advised: with the mast down I can't post blogs with the SSB radio. Therefore, several days may pass between postings.

p.s. I noticed that my email spam bucket today had 12 messages. 6 ads for viagra interspersed with 6 invites from Hillary Clinton saying "Let's Have Lunch." I wonder if her campaign managers are aware of the juxtaposition they are creating for Hillary's name.