A few of you may have read my blog about the woman in my life (March of 2006). I wrote that some time ago. Now, in response to a belated and somewhat hostile occurrence from yet another woman, I had better mention and elucidate this other lovely period in my life.
After leaving the USNR in Boston, I moved to Alabama. A large (1 mile by 18 miles) TVA lake was near my new home. While in Boston, I had taken a coast guard course in sailing. This was a didactic class and not on the water. I had an interest in sailing nonetheless. A friend offered me the use of his sleek little 21 foot day sailor. It was impossible to capsize, had a small cabin for sails, a self bailing cockpit, and a small outboard engine. I jumped at his offer, and before long, I was on the water putting theory into practice. Thus, began a love affair of some years. The sloop was easily rigged by one person, and did a fine job sailing with only minimal attention.
A six pack and a portable radio was all that was needed to enjoy a day on the water listening to a ball game and traveling back and forth in the lake. Two or three others could join me. The boat was broad minded about others sharing our time together. Of course, I did a bit of work on her appearance and bought her some new clothes in the form of sails, etc. My mind also turned to reading sailing magazines, and I fancied myself as a novice racer. I was even elected to be vice-commodore for sail at the club where we slept. Sailors are an open minded bunch, and we never heard a word about our cohabitation.
My head was turned by pictures in the magazine, "Sail", of larger and more beautiful examples of sailing mistresses. As a former president of the USA said, "I lusted after them in my heart". With passing time, I yielded to temptation. This vixen was called "Hedonist". She was drop dead gorgeous, 31 feet long, and without being crude, she was fast! She was custom made and a bit wild. Like a lot of beautiful women, she could be tempestuous. An inboard Diesel engine, galley, head, and bunks for at least four were a few of her physical attributes. It was love at first sight, and I abandoned my first love to a friend. Then we drove her through town on her trailer with many locals aghast, and floated her bottom in the lake.
I had visited the boatyard in NY before possessing her. All seemed in order except there were few people who spoke English. This was New York, so I assumed that was a local oddity. It became clear later that many of those workers, did not have a clue as to what they were doing. More on that comes later. A friend with some sailing knowledge agreed to come with me to the launch. Then we spent the night waiting to travel through the lock on the river the next AM. The boat yard left the slings under her tummy that night (good move on their part). Before we left the next morning, I gave the bilge pump a couple of swings. Guess what? The bilge held a significant amount of water! Enough so the lift was used to raise her, and a leak in the hull shot out a very thin stream of water. Now, I knew already that girls are said by some to have an imperfect plumbing system, but this woman was brand new! When the water stopped, one could see a half inch or less screw hole that had not been sealed. A nickel's worth of epoxy cured that in a hurry.
OK, so all evidence of domestic abuse cleared, my friend and I made our way to the Wilson Dam Lock, tooted our horn, went into this cavern that filled with water, and motored out into the lake. Thereafter began a decade of bliss (almost) with this beautiful and only occasionally fussy woman. She never won any racing trophies but was still acclaimed the best looking woman in the area. She taught me several lessons. With a girl her size, she needs attention on a frequent basis. Things like baths, bottom scrubs, lines renewed, winches polished, etc. were part of our loving rituals. If a single person could rig her, the air for sailing had to be pretty poor. A second person was needed to help her with her clothes. Twice, we had a problem. Once, a humorous one and later a real crisis. The first could have have been serious but was not. My son saved the day. On a beautiful Sunday afternoon with some nice air about, my son and my best friend's wife went for a sail along with me. It was October I believe. The best winds and no summer's boats to run about made it ideal. Cruising slowly along, we suddenly STOPPED! I knew we were in the mud immediately. Three PM on a fall afternoon, and it would be dark soon. I tried the things the coast guard had suggested to free a boat that was aground. Shifting weights, engine reversed, sails up to blow us off the bottom, etc. Nothing helped. My wife and my friend's husband knew where we were. Help would eventually show up but when? The lake was deserted, and we were stuck! I was marooned with another man's wife on the lake. I thought both our spouses would be understanding, and thank God, my son was there to chaperone us. Then I spotted a nice looking power boat half mile away. With great noise and bodily gyrations, they finally made out that we were not drunks and motored over. With a quick tow off the mud. We made it home without any problem.
Another ailment afflicted my dear lady later on in her life with me. In winter, I always drained her engine blocks and kept a burning light in the compartment with her engine. One particular winter we had several days of temperatures in the teens. Two or three times a week, I would leave work and visit the boat to make sure the light was on, the sea cock closed, and the bilge was dry. This particular evening, all seemed in order EXCEPT the two engine blocks seemed to have a thin line of rust over their painted surface. They were both cracked. Diesels are simple engines but with cracked blocks there is no compression. Compression, fuel, and air are all that a diesel needs. Two out of three won't do. The next weekend, I drove a hundred miles or so to pick up a couple of new blocks. While in the store, a nice young man said, "doc you might want to pick up one of these two dollar manuals on how to install blocks". I am sure that this young man made a great CEO or board chairman for that insight. I grabbed a book and headed home. She was in no pain, but I was in distress. I spent two months working on her nights and weekends with book at hand and new metric tools. Some of those nights were cold and filled with exhortations to a higher power best heard on the golf course only. A dear (since departed) mother in law gave me a torque wrench for Christmas that year. With that, the book, and requisite knowledge on the importance of shims in diesel engines. I did not know a shim from a shiminsky until then. I finally fired the engine up that spring. To my amazement, the thing purred like a kitten. It had never run as smooth. The foreign workers in NY failed to get the concept of shims and diesel compression. I, and the book, had done that with great results!
As with a lot of relationships, changes occur. My lady and I remained together until it was time to make a move where there was no open body of water. With a tear in both of our eyes, she was surveyed and wound up in the arms of another man. A man who I knew would care for her. Since the day he first laid eyes on her, he had extended an offer to buy her favors when the time came. Several years later, I saw her still in the lake, obviously changed with age, but seemingly happy.
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