by Jeff Allen
I was a little nervous rowing the dingy out to my mooring and boat. The water of Belfast Bay was as smooth as glass this morning, but I was getting ready to take my mother sailing for the first time in 71 years, her whole life.
Anyway, it was a short row and before I knew it, the dingy was close to my boat The Three Sheets. I now had to worry about climbing aboard gracefully and not dumping myself in the middle of the bay. Today was particularly critical, since I could feel my mother watching me from the breakwater. I didn't want to look stupid. I'd had the boat for a few years but had never been able to find a time that both my mother and I were not busy and the weather was adequate for a first sailing experience. Today was the perfect day, calm air in the morning with forecasts of some stronger breezes by afternoon. I'd also been able to convince my buddy Dave and his 9-year-old daughter Mary to go with us to help rigging the boat and doing the "work" part of the sailing.
Made it. I secured the dingy then unlocked the cabin and pulled out the seat cushion for the cockpit. I opened the trunk, pulled out the fuel tank and hooked up to the little outboard. The engine started on the first pull thanks to the tune-up that had been done last winter. As the engine warmed up, I went forward and untied the boat from the mooring. Then, rushing back, put the motor in gear and headed it for the dock.
Making a smooth approach to the dock was important. I'd told mom I was a pretty fair sailor so now was not the time to smash into the docks like a beginner. Just in case, I'd asked Dave and Mary to meet me at the docks to sort of "catch" the boat if I was unable to slow it enough. The docks in Belfast are notorious for being a little tricky due to the strong currents that come from the river and the tidal influences. As I approached, I saw that it was almost dead low tide - good - no currents.
Docking was smooth. So far I looked good. As mom walked down from the breakwater I could see her looking over the boat, Closely examining every line, cable and surface. I'd shown her countless pictures but in person it was a different matter. She knew the general dimensions, but to actually see it was new for her. Dave and I quickly loaded on the day's supplies of food and sodas. Mom was eager to climb aboard and be part of the process of packing things out of the way and making the boat ready. Gingerly she swung her leg up and over the side and stepped in.
She took to the boat quickly. As I'd explained to her, it was a lot like a camper, but with no wheels and lots of water outside the door. She was very familiar with that analogy and understood the importance of having everything organized and stowed.
After getting the supplies stowed, Dave and I pulled out the sails and began rigging them to the mast. Not to be outdone, mom climbed right down belowdecks and fed up the sails up to us. She'd heard a lot about this process and was not going to miss a bit of the "experience". A few minutes later we finished and were ready to leave the dock.
I started the outboard and backed away from the dock and toward Penobscot Bay. The wind still hadn't picked up so we motored along a way, gradually maneuvering through the harbor and giving us all a visual tour of some of the better boats in the inner harbor. As we got a little further out, we were able to see some of the beautiful homes that were not visible from the land. We glided past the bell bouy and our slight wake caused it to clang, scaring off a couple sea birds perched on it. The wind started to pick up a little and I was impatient about being able to use the sails.
I cut the motor and Dave helped me set the sails. Nothing. The only headway we were making was due to the momentum of the boat when the motor had been running and drifting with the incoming tide. Nevertheless, the peace afforded by the silence was sweet. Slowly we made our way northward across the bay. We floated like that for about 20 minutes when I spotted the water's surface begin to ripple from a breeze, not where we were, but only a couple minutes away by motor. Starting the engine, I swung the boat toward the small waves.
This was better and we quickly picked up a little speed as the sails filled. We tacked our way out of the harbor and into the larger expanse of the bay. Mary had wandered forward and was sitting on the very front of the boat resting her chin on the bow pulpit, the railing at the front of the boat. Just as we were about to tack, she spotted a school of small orange jellyfish in the shallow water below her perch. As we turned, I stalled the boat to give us all a chance to check them out. There were thousands, varying in size from a quarter to a couple inches in diameter. The bow of the boat swung around and we were off again. The wind had shifted as we worked our way into the bay and was now coming directly from the south. This enabled us to go east across the bay without having to do much work at all. This was my favorite kind of sailing, all the benefits and none of the work. We had no real destination in mind so east was as good a direction as any other.
Morning turned to afternoon as we made our way toward Islesboro Island. A couple harbor seals popped their heads up and checked us out. Mom was the first to spot one and asked me what it was. About the time I finally located it, it pointed it's nose to the sky and slid backward into the water, never leaving a trace on the surface. A few minutes later, however, a head broke the surface about 20 feet off the port bow. It watched us with great curiosity as we slid silently past, not more than 10 feet away. Mary screamed with excitement and, looking at my mother, I could see it was only the modesty of age that kept her from squealing too.
The day was a perfect day to be out on the water. Dozens of sails dotted the horizon and we made a game out of trying to count them all. We couldn't. The wind gradually picked up to make the sailing more exciting. By increasing speed gradually, mom hadn't really noticed the heel, or, leaning, the boat had developed. She was on the downwind side of the boat and the angle of heel had just set her more comfortable back into her seat. This came as sudden awakening when she decided it was time for lunch and got up to go below to get the sandwiches. Mary tugged on her hand to help her up and together they went down to get food from the cooler.
When they came back topside, I told mom she'd had the morning off from work as Dave and I played skipper. Once she finished eating, she'd have to steer the boat as we ate. I could have hooked up a little cable for that purpose, but kind of sensed that she was dying to try the tiller but didn't quite want to ask since Dave and I were obviously having so much fun. As she ate I told her the basics of how the steering worked and she listened intently. A couple minutes later she slid to the back of the cockpit and grabbed the tiller handle. For a few minutes the boat veered in one direction, then the other. Shortly, however, she got the hang of it and our wake became a straight line again. I took my time eating.
Soon after lunch we approached and passed Turtle Head, the big outcropping of rock at the north end of Islesboro. Once we'd rounded it we saw dozens of additional sailboats on the east side of the island. Sails of every color of the rainbow and several big genoa parachute sails filled the horizon. Their beauty was, and still is hard to describe, it has to be experienced. We headed South-east toward Castine but decided to turn around before we got there to get back to Belfast at a reasonable time. That's what we did. The sea breeze held steady all afternoon as we slid through the water. The only sound besides our conversation was the gurgle of the water as the bow sliced through it.
Dave climbed below decks and took a little nap. Mom didn't want to miss a second of her adventure. She took her turn at the tiller again with no hesitation. Later, as the wind shifted so we had to adjust the sails, she wanted me tell her how to do it rather than wake Dave. She trimmed them well, catching on quickly. When Dave came back on deck, she told him to go back to sleep, she had this situation all under control!
I dropped my crew off at the docks about 5:00. We unloaded the boat and piled the gear on the dock. I headed back to the mooring with the boat while Dave brought the car down and packed the gear in. I had an uneventful trip rowing back to shore in the dingy. Later, we talked of going out for dinner. None of us were too hungry because the heat was much more intense on shore. Being on the water truly was a different world.
The chance to feel the sun on our faces and wind on our backs had made for a beautiful day. The biggest thrill, however, was being able to share my passion for sailing with my mother.