OD OY Review The Peanut Dinghy

Ah! Memories of teenage lust ..... for a boat.

Around the age of 12, I learned to sail on an El Toro and shortly after, started to learn to race as a crew on an International 14. I became obsessed with sailing and, sometime in the 1960s, when the annual class review of the One-Design and Offshore Yachtsman came out, I spied this blurb on the Peanut class and fell in love.

Slightly longer than my El Toro and much racier, I dreamed of owning this beauty. I sent away to the class secretary and got one or two mimeographed sheets with some grainy photos in the return post. I could have bought some plans but, I was, at that time, inept with the basic hand tools and my dad wasnt much better. The money I saved from my lawn cutting jobs was to be used for other purposes.

When I was in my twenties, in a short foray in the Finn dinghy, I sailed a regatta out of Sayville, New York, just up the road from the Peanut Class home port of West Islip. My teenage obsession had long passed and I never thought of making a quick 10 mile (16km) side-trip to see if I could find a Peanut dinghy in the flesh.

In the ensuing years, despite inquiries to any Long Island sailor who has crossed my path, not one person has come forward as knowing anything of the the Peanut dinghy of West Islip, let alone have I been able to find a person who has seen one. It seems to be a class that appeared and disappeared very quickly, leaving not much trace.

But it still remains, to me, as one of those warm, fuzzy memories of early teenage years

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Ed. Note: There is also a Norwegian Peanut sailing dink which was hot-molded and imported into the U.S during the 1960s - another instance of a class sharing a name.

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Breaking News Witty the Kitty Is BAACK!!

Approximately four days after his sudden disappearance, Lene was walking the 150 yards to the shipyards shower/head/lounge when she heard a cat sound. Not the loud yowl Witty is capable of, nor the weak mewl either -- but a cat sound. I got our strong flashlight and we saw what seemed like an orange cat running along a low "catwalk" at the near side of the big building that houses the yards repair shops and parts department. This is 200 feet from us by the docks or 100 as the crow flies.

From bow of ILENE you turn left, right and then right before getting to the right corner of the big building.

I had walked this catwalk

and my had leg crashed through the plywood decking when I put my foot on a spot that was not directly over one of the horizontal 2 x 4s that  support it.

This had been a few days before, during one of my many expeditions shaking Wittys plastic box of treats. Lene ran back to get the treat box and we made our way to the back of the big beehive of bustling activity, now quiet for the night.
Fifteen feet behind it, hidden in woods that have encroached it, is a decaying one room structure (seen at the left in the photo above) under which Witty had apparently found shelter.

He was skittish or fearful and of two minds whether he wanted to be brought back into domesticity/captivity. But eventually his desire for food won out and he approached Lene and after giving him a hand full of food she grabbed him and I carried him back to the boat where we could see him better in the light.
He really looked none the worse for wear, his coat clean and not infested with brambles, though in need of a brushing. No apparent wounds or loss of weight. Alfie, normally diffident toward him as well as toward us, licked him lovingly. We gave him a big portion of food, though not too much because he regurgitates when he wolfs down too much.
Lene is elated!
 The gloom of mourning that had settled over our expedition is vanished.  We are both so happy to have him back,  though he seems to be eyeing the companionway as if he enjoyed his four days of freedom.
We have been notifying all the folks who gave advice and support that the search is successfully concluded. How many of his nine lives are left?

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