Spent the night on the boat, first time

May 6-7, 2006:
We spent the night on Daria for the first time.

We spent the weekend sailing out to Manhasset Bay, and valet docked for dinner at Louie's Oyster Bar. Crowded with people watching the Kentucky Derby on TV, dressed up and drinking free mint julep's. (Those mint juleps being given out as marketing samples for some liquor company. It might have been more effective marketing if I could remember what liquor company.) A horse won the race. I wasn't following too closely.

It was a calm, peaceful evening. After dinner, just as the sun was hitting the horizon, Belinda, Theo and I piled back into Daria and motored off to the spot that we had picked out earlier to anchor for the night. We had picked a nice spot in the lee of King's Point, near the house on shore that Andre calls "the Taco Bell".

Except that in the short span of time of leaving Louie's dock and getting to the anchorage, the sun sank now well below the horizon and the flat, calm afternoon became quite brisk. The wind came about from the opposite direction and became quite strong, and the flat bay was suddenly kicking up two foot waves. Instead of sitting snug in the lee of the land, we were now trying to drop anchor hanging precariously over a lee shore. We were now trying to drop our anchor - for the first time. We hadn't gotten to trying to set the anchor before today.

We also learned what it is to drag anchor. In this case, what it is to drag anchor with the lee shore beach coming closer and closer. We circled again and tried to reset.

Daria is a light displacement boat, slightly more than a large dinghy. And although it doesn't sound like much, in a two foot chop she bounces around quite dramatically. As this happens, her little 9.9 outboard engine's prop pops out of the water at the top of each wave. The engine over-races loudly and the feeling of forward thrust is suspended, until Daria falls down into the next wave trough and there is a guttural groan as the prop catches water again.

All of this being our very first time - the now deepening darkness, the sound of waves on the beach somewhere behind us, the pitching of the deck in the chop, the groaning and racing of the engine, the dragging anchor, the tangle of its line - it starts to become a lot to take in.
And there is my seven year old son standing in the gangway saying "are we there yet?", although the look on his face looking at his parents said something more like "is this the way it is supposed to look, Mom and Dad?"

And then I see a large white unoccupied mooring ball. It looks like a resident of one of the big mansions behind us had already set out their mooring ball for the season, but hadn't yet launched the boat that would spend the season here. We came around once more and I picked it up. Moored now, the chaos calmed down. Belinda looked at me with that look of "are you sure about this?" No, I'm not sure about this. Its rude, we are parked in someone else's parking spot without permission. But its better than camping on the beach tonight, and now we have a break to regroup. And time to sit and wonder if the resident had really recently put this nice, newly checked mooring anchor out, or if it was one that had been neglectfully left out all winter and could snap at any moment. Which would bring us back to camping on the beach tonight.

Belinda and I went below to warm up and try to relax, but the boat was bucking back and forth. We sat on the bunks facing each other, ready to lose our cookies any moment. As long as we don't show Theo that we are concerned, he'll be alright. But Theo seemed oblivious and dealt the cards. We came here to relax and play cards and damn it, that's what we are going to do.


There are a number of lessons here to take note of:
- Perhaps it would be better to not be quite so rigid about sticking to the plans that we made.
- It might have been better if we had picked up and moved across the bay to be in the lee of the wind, which was no longer here, but was now over there.
- It would have been good to have more (or any) experience with our gear, like the anchor. (But that's how you get experience, by going out and doing, so I'll negate this one.)
- It would have been better to get the experience with the anchor at a time that wasn't pitch black, like during the day.
- When I ask myself "This will probably work. What could go wrong?" then I should actually listen to that answer. Don't take those "little chances" that could result in losing the boat.
- Always settle in to an anchorage for the night earlier than we did. Like 3pm. Anchor, stow gear, go for a swim, eat, then enjoy the sunset. In that order. We should have either anchored and taken the dinghy (note: we didn't own a dinghy yet) to Louie's, or gone to Louie's for the brunch special.


(Started 5/7/06, finished entry 6/11/09)

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"Daria" is our new sailboat, a Seidelmann S25. Fiendish forum floggers have derided the later Seidelmanns, but Daria is one of the prime original designs by Bob Seidelmann, and we love her. She lives in and on Long Island Sound, as perfect a sailboat for these waters as you could ask for.

Maiden Voyage

Today was our maiden voyage on Daria. We brought her back to the Williamsburgh Yacht Club from Huntington Harbor. With no wind at all -Long Island Sound was made of glass- almost all of the trip was under power.

Theo read, played and slept.

Our friend Matt Dywer helped us bring her back.

Belinda and I took turns at the helm and navigating.

And now starts a long list of renovations and repairs. And learning. And fun as a family.