Summer has arrived in Tidewater so we left home early this morning and were working on the boat by 8 AM. That way, when the sun was overhead at noon and there wasn’t any shade left on either side of the boat, we could go home. We weren’t the first people there. The same couple–retirees I think–were there that had been there on Sunday, working on Coconuts, a lovely sailboat. Are they getting ready for their dream sail? And the same waterman from Sunday was there working on his workboat, and it was obvious from how far he had gotten that he had been there Monday and Tuesday as well.
Today, the sign painter came and we learned that the name of the boat was Wolf Trap, the letters painted in red on both sides of the bow in a dark red that matched the newly painted red hull and the hoists inside the boat. It is beautiful. He is obviously a local as people from the boat yard came by to talk to him as he buffed and painted. So, is this standard procedure? Or did he buy a used boat? Or just decide it was time to spruce his up? It is not oyster season (since there is not R in June) and it looked like an oyster boat.
There was also a new guy, dropped off by a woman whose pinched face looked weathered and ancient, one of those apple dolls they sell at markets. Her son? husband? was working on a house boat on the other side of the yard. And, finally, someone from the marina was working on a large catamaran two boats down from us, sanding the bottom.
So, there we were: some very different people who had all managed to be in this marina on a Wednesday morning when most people are at real jobs somewhere, accomplishing tasks and completing projects. We were drawn there by boats and were willing to get dirty and greasy and sweaty because it meant that we would be able to eventually go sailing. Out on the water, under the sun, pressing the wind. Sailing is timeless, not measured in minutes and hours but in gusts and tacks and coming abouts. In intense moments when you fight the wind to calm broad reaches that seem to stretch for days.
An acquaintance of ours is a sailor who spends his days at a brokerage firm. His new office doesn’t have any windows and he says it’s ok. Windows only allowed him to see when it was a perfect sailing day, and he would hurry through his work, hoping to escape to the wind, water, and waves.
