The sleep of a lifetime

Back to the projects after a peaceful first night rocking gently into oblivion.

So here we are in our anchorage in Westchester awaiting the storms that the voice of NOAA has been predicting for two days and that have not arrived. It’s a slow starting season and we have much to do. Our project list stays the same length with a new project added to the bottom as one is crossed off the top. Yet, we feel we are making great progress and it is definitely starting to show on the classic lady on our mooring.

Fresh varnish on baby-bottom smooth wood trim, fresh paint and non-skid topsides, fresh coats of varnish on almost everything below decks, new cushions for the saloon, new ropes, and new sails to complement the locker to come. We even painted the rusty CQR and the faded MOB pole. Yessirree, she is starting to look quite spiffy.

Yesterday, we put off the project list in favor of a sail, and what a lovely one it was at that. We found ourselves in the midst of a fleet racing out to a distant mark. A sea of colorful spinnakers coming up on our stern, and we with a yankee and staysail, main and mizzen, unable to keep up and uninterested in trying. We stayed out of their way as much as we could when the wind died, then high tailed it down the Sound when the wind picked up. Yahoo, 8.5 knots of boat speed in 15 knots of wind. Glorious, yes it was. We can't wait to take delivery of our new spinnaker and try out it's magic on the next fleet we come across.

Now, that was a good spring sail. We had thought about dropping a hook in a secluded anchorage for our first overnight aboard, but NOAA having alerted us to foul weather coming after midnight encouraged us to return to our mooring instead. It was cool out but reasonably warm inside. We laid out our subzero synthetic comforter on crisp cotton sheets and slept like babies for the first time in many weeks.

It must have rained, pretty heavily we surmised by the amount of water on deck, but we had not heard a drop. It was the sleep of the weary, the slumber of the content, and the peace of rocking in a mother’s womb. I don’t know if it’s because we have been deprived of the gentle motion of a boat at anchor all winter that the first night aboard is always so enveloping. All I know is that there is no better place to be than nestled in my honey’s embrace and swaying gently together into a deep refreshing peace.

Today, it’s back to the projects.