#164 Gone Sailing

I watched our sailboat transported from Hingham, MA to Portland, ME yesterday.  I've been scared by many things way more terrifying than this in the past, but there's something about moving our boat that really had my stomach tied up in major  knots.  It reminded me of when my kids used to run downhill - I wanted to be there, but needed to watch from in between the fingers of my gloves.

Maybe it was the ease and perceived lack of concern by the boat mover that made me the most nervous.  Malcom was a 56 year old gray-headed British rocker, with a pit bull named Shogie - the sweetest dog you could possibly imagine. He was a true gypsy mover with a trailer that looked like it had a major bearing issue.

And then there was the inevitable and to be expected thunking and thumping, rocking and rolling of the boat as it teetered off its keel and stands on the driveway, and in to the arms of the trailer, while we little ant people scurried around sweating buckets to make sure the whole thing wasn't going to topple down on top of us, should the trailer accidently bump into something important.

As it turned out, Malcolm had nerves of steel and a twisted sense of humor. We got along famously. You've got to be half out of your mind to be a boat mover, and equally insane to own an old boat, as far as I can tell so far anyway.

The trailer made it to Portland without a hitch, er without an issue - though we could not watch from behind and had to drive ahead. And the landing at the boat yard was flawless. It's looking like we might actually get to go sailing this summer after all. I cling to this image.

Gone Sailing • 8" x 8" gouache framed to 12" x 12" • $200

PS. Ironically, Tom's brand new Mercedes van broke down in Augusta on his way back to Kingfield last night.