The winds on inland waters in the Northeast can be capricious, especially in the summer. That's especially true for places like The Great Sacandaga Lake in upstate New York where we sailed for many years. The lake is surrounded by mountains and hills which cause eddies and swirls in the wind making them unpredictable.
One summer day we were having a family day on Jennifer, our beloved Clipper 26. The Clipper 26 was, at the time, about the biggest trailerable boat that one could buy. It was a very lightweight rig. The hull was only 1/8 inch thick in most places. It had a swing keel that allowed shallow draft when we wanted it. It also had a pop top. A pop top is a section of deck roof that you can lift up and support on steel legs. With the pop top up one had standing headroom and also lots of wonderful sunshine and fresh air in to the cabin. We left the pop top up almost all the time.
On board, besides Libby and me, were our youngest son Dave, my parents Jerry and Helen and my sister Marilyn. Marilyn has been retarded since birth so all of us are naturally very protective of her. It was a fine day, warm and sunny. The winds were light but we moved along quite well. Out on the open lake we moved along quite well. Everyone was enjoying themselves. Dave, who was only 3 or 4 years old, enjoyed himself by dangling from the bow pulpit like a circus performer on a trapeze. That left his butt swinging in the air about one foot in front of the bow. Of course that drove Libby and I crazy with the fear that he would fall off and be immediately run over by the boat. Time and again we made him stop doing that but as soon as our attention wavered he went back to dangling. I didn't really want to make him stop entirely because it looked like so much fun that I wanted to do it too.
Mid afternoon the wind began to die away. It was customary on Sacandaga that the wind would die completely every afternoon at four o'clock. I was sailing us in to sunset bay in search of a pretty spot to stop for a while. We were beating in against a light wind and I had the Genoa and the mainsheet sheeted in fairly tight.
It seems to be true that despite a life time's events, many of our most memorable experiences play out over a few scant seconds. That was the case this day.
I was at the helm, navigating us in to Sunset Bay. Dave was at the bow with his feet dangling over the side. Grandma (my mother) was laying on the forward deck. Her job was to enjoy the sun but alto to grab David's shorts and pull him in if he tried to dangle again. Marilyn was down in cabin, leaning on the side of the pop top opening and looking around at the scenery.
Suddenly a puff of wind came out of nowhere. Because the sails were sheeted in, we took the blast of wind and heeled heavily. The Clipper was a very light weight rig and she instantly rolled over about 45 degrees. The roll caused two things to happen simultaneously. First, the pop top cover fell hitting Marilyn on the head then smashing down on her fingers. She let out a shriek of pain. The second thing happened unnoticed by the rest of us because of Marilyn's emergency. Grandma rolled off the deck right under the lifelines and in to the water.
Libby, Jerry, David and I all leapt to Marilyn's aid. It couldn't have taken us more than 5 second to lift the pop top again and to comfort Marilyn. In another 5 seconds I was back at the helm. We were in no danger of running aground but the boat had accelerated in a burst of speed because of the puff of wind.
"Say", I thought, "Where's Grandma?" I looked around doing a 360 degree scan to locate her. I spotted her about 100 yards behind in our wake. She was waving her arms and yelling. Uh Oh. Time for a real life version of the man overboard drill. Libby and I practiced man overboard once or twice a year because it was fun. This time it was for real. I don't want to give the wrong impression though. Grandma could swim and she was within a few hundred feet of shore so the danger was not great.
I sprang into action to bring the boat about and return to Grandma. Nature wasn't helping me though. The puff of wind had disappeared and now there was no wind at all to make us go. I was forced to abandon the sails and start the outboard motor. It took a minute or two for me to maneuver the boat back to where Grandma was and to take her by the hand.
Now, the next problem was to get Grandma back aboard the boat. We had a boarding ladder somewhere on board but for some reason I didn't get it. Instead, Libby and Jerry and I all leaned over the side and grabbed her. The boat heeled way over because of all that weight on one side. That helped us. We roller her out of the water on to the deck. She wasn't happy. Grandma was coughing and spitting up water. The only thing she could think of to say was, "The boat ran right over me. All I could see was the white of the hull." David made the day perfect at that point. He said, "Did you see any fish down there Grandma?" It took minutes for all of us, Grandma included, to stop laughing.
Well, when Jerry and Helen got home, Helen told all of her friends the story of how she was thrown overboard. In fact it became her favorite life story. Years afterward she told her story again and again. Each time she told it, the story became somewhat better and it acquired embellishments. Eventually, the story evolved in to how we abandoned her and sailed of over the horizon leaving her do die alone in those vast open waters. Sadly, my mother passed away more than 30 years ago, yet still her story lingers on. Just this summer I attended a birthday party of one of her friends. All of Helen's best friends were there. Wouldn't you know it, after the party had been going on for a while, I overheard Helen's friends recounting her story about the day she was thrown overboard and left to drown as her family sailed away over the horizon. I guess the story does have some legs because now I'm blogging it. No matter who tells the story however the punch line is always the same, "Did you see any fish down there Grandma?"
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Great story!
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