Sadly, this is the first sailing I’ve done this year. Let busy get in the way. Had a wonderful late afternoon sail upriver and back with my daughter, my puppy and a really good friend. Oh, and a beer. What else can you ask for?

Life demands responsibility. We all make mistakes, but how responsible are we for those others make? Sadly, too many won’t take any ownership of the problems they’ve wrought in their own lives. It is an overwhelming problem in our land and to foment this discontent is criminal.

Like many, I’ve had enough of the corrupt “news” reports of left wing “peaceful protests”. Hate and destruction are never a recipe for heeling. The stories are practically unavoidable. You can forget who you are. So, I sought some peace on the water where no one is leering at you for not wearing a mask. Where you’re free to go where the wind takes you. A nice sail has always been restorative, rejuvenating and recuperative.

Though Chickadees’s projects are ongoing, it was time to sail her home from the yard after fixing the centerboard, painting the bottom and mending a few deck leaks. A light breeze pulled us out into North River as several porpoise raced in our wake. Beautiful creatures. Otherwise, it was just me and my Huckleberry pushing to weather. I longed to continue on up the Bay on some grand adventure removed from so much insanity. Soon I hope.

Finally took Chick back out over the past few days. Diving revealed she had little growth, but a scrubbing removed some scum and let her slip along even better still. The water was a perfect temp. Did some reading and napped in the shade of the cockpit afterwards. As the days heat up, late afternoon sails have been delightful too. Look here:

I’ve too many excuses with little reason behind any of them to explain my love of boats. Simply, I feel dead without them. (I apologize here and now Luna). Last summer I saw a boat advertised for sale that I’ve long admired, the Tartan 27, “classic plastic”. She was in Annapolis. Couldn’t get up there. By chance a month or so later, a family wedding was nearby. The boat was still available. Hmm. Perhaps I could escape during the reception? No one was going to ask me to dance. I’m a bit of a one trick pony and the Chicken Dance is out of fashion (was it ever?). Would have been bad form I know, not the dance, the disappearing. I suppose all was for the best. Luna needed a new home first. It seemed a long 3 months getting that done. Was quick really. Once accomplished I felt maybe I was done with “in-the-water” boats for awhile. The best day in a boat owner’s life … No such doing however. In short order I began thinking about the little Tartan. Yet, the ad had disappeared and I had lost the contact. So, I joined a T27 group to inquired of others on the market. Sadly, most were dogs or too much in the “project” category. Then favor shined. The son of the summer boat saw my post. “Faith” was still waiting. After several calls, 2 trips north and2 minutes of deliberation, the sweet little girl became ours. Getting her is a long 3 day journey. Add our December weather to the mix and none of it makes sense.

The first attempt was aborted after I got the rental car loaded. Optimism didn’t prevail. “Faith” became “Chickadee” and one week later a 3-day window opened. It was quite cold with small craft warnings, but no rain. The clear skies brought winds from the starboard quarter to offer a firm push home. Lunacy! Here are our 2 days getting south. A third is to come. Merry Christmas!