Friday, Bob and Laura of our Club organized a fun sail down to The Battery and back in which about ten Club boats participated. We rendezvoused with Bob and Laura and their boat, "Thai Hot," when ILENE was in the West Indies (see Blog, Jan 22, 2012, Sint Maarten). In addition to Witty and Alpha Girl, we enjoyed the company of Rhoda and Lloyd, Christine and Heather and Mendy. We left the mooring at 5:45 pm and had daylight all the way down, passing many memorable urban sights with a favorable tide. Actually, the timing of the turn of the tide was the key to the success of this voyage; Thanks, Bob!
Hells Gate with Triboro (now RFK) behind
59th St (Now Ed Koch) Bridge
Bright lights in the big city
We had the main up the whole way but the motor was on except for perhaps a bit more than an hour, near the destination and starting back up. I got yelled at by the captain of a tug with barges who thought I was too close when we were near the Statue. He hailed us over his loudspeaker: "Ilene, you are an idiot!" Well we were not that near to him and in fact I did not hear his yell, though the others did. After the tide turned, we enjoyed favorable tide on the way back as well, arriving on the mooring six hours after starting, at 11:45 pm. Having misplaced the big flashlight (since found), finding our mooring in the dark was a challenge, but we saw it on the first try.
After sleeping aboard, we sailed on Saturday for about four hours with friends I know through Lene: Simone, who had sailed with us up at Mt. Desert Island last summer, and her wife, Alison. They are eager and avid sailors. Also, Susan and Andrew, who were newbies but took the helm and acquitted themselves well. Then dinner at the Club and a good nights sleep. The photos of this group are in my former cell phone which, alas, lies on the bottom of Eastchester Bay. Oops!
Sunday we were supposed to sail with a couple of attorneys who Lene had placed, but the husbands work got crazy at the last minute so they had to cancel. Hey, I was an attorney so I know such things happen. Lene made other plans, not including use of our car and I called Lenes cousin Judy, to find out if her twin sons, Jake and Jared, were available -- and they were.
The lads are about 17 years old. I have been wanting to sail with them for at least a decade and now they are old enough and we had a good sail. The wind had been forecast for only single digits but came up double that. So using the main, we furled the small jib and made plenty of speed with one sail. We were close hauled on a port tack from the mooring to Great Neck, on a starboard close reach to and through Hart Island Sound, reached deeply into Manhassett Bay, past the Clubs, the race in progress and the big anchored party yacht until the water got to ten feet before turning for home. Jake did most of the steering, cast off and picked up the mooring, hauled up the main, and trimmed the sails, giving my sore shoulder a rest. Jake is rapidly becoming a good sailor.
Jared felt a bit under the weather especially on the beating courses, but he hung on bravely. His face does not look as green as he felt.
The two cats stayed mostly below, in each end of a long narrow cabinet on the port side of the forward head, where we store towels. It is closed by two sliding panels and by pushing them toward the center, the cats have openings into two snug padded berths. They both briefly stuck their noses out of the companionway, on the way back, to look around. On the way out, during the port tack, two of the transverse drawers under the pullman berth slid out onto the cabin sole and I had put them back -- more securely. Once on the mooring, sails and lines all secured and stowed, the wheel locked in place, the instruments turned off, and the next question before calling the launch was: "Wheres Alphie?" The boys and I spent at least an hour looking in every conceivable place. All of the stuff in the aft cabin was removed and, not finding a cat there the stuff was replaced and its door closed. All of the towels were removed from the cats hiding hole. Compartment by compartment, we systematically but frantically searched, with no luck. Not in the fridge either. Nor topside. Knowing Alphies penchant for crawling into the stack pack (see prior post) we searched there too and raised that sail and felt for bulges on the sides of the lower sail. Many searches were repeated.
Finally the call to Lene that I dreaded ever having to make. Lets just say that she did not take the news that Alphie was missing calmly. I drove the twins back to NJ and returned to the boat; Lene took the number six subway and 29 bus, arriving two minutes before I did. We resumed the search. Within a few minutes she heard a faint mewl, not the MEEOWWW!!! that Alphie is capable of. Thank goodness! She was aboard! What a relief! But where? We tried to localize the sound and concluded that it was coming from the compartment with the pullman berth, where we sleep. So we took off the huge mattress and bed clothes, and moved this into the salon and then I unscrewed the part of the plywood panel on which the mattress lies that covers, among other things, the six drawers, two of which had slid out. But these drawers slide in cubbies with 1/2 inch plywood on the top, the bottom and both sides. here is the front of the forward ones with the drawers out:
So how could Alfie have gotten into wherever she was through there? Oh, I did not know this but the cubbies have no backs and there is a narrow space, perhaps 2.5 inches wide, between the back of the cubbies and the longitudinal bulkhead behind which the water maker lives. She had squeezed through that gap!
Back of cubbies, from the top - where she had squeezed through
Next removal was a large tray about 2.5 by 3 and four inches deep, that fits over the drawers but under the plywood platform for the mattress and is held in place by a dozen screws. This tray opens through a covered cutout in the top and we store my wet suit in there. And then Alphies head was visible in the dry but dirty bilge under the drawers at the front end.
Fiberglass stringer seen from above
But the next couple of hours of trying to coax her out were unavailing. She had jumped over a strong longitudinal fiberglass stringer into the lowest part of this bilge, below where my arm could reach. We tried coaxing her out with hands containing a few kibbles but she reached this food with her head without providing a way to grab the scruff of her neck. The same with a line: she loves chasing strings and put out paws to play, but did not come out far enough to be grabbed. I sawed a six inch square hole in the bottom of the forward lower cubbie with the Dremel tool, using up three carborundum discs, but there was still a ply of the plywood that was not cut and hammering down with the rubber mallet did not create the hole I sought. The sawing and hammering probably scared the poor kittie half to death, though. Lene called friends, including Bob, of "Pandora", another Saga 43. He is a master woodworker. He advised against tearing the boat further apart; I agreed, not being able to see what was connected to what - how to do it. It appears that glue was use in addition to screws. So we sat and waited and in a half an hour -- out crawled Alphie. It was after ten oclock; we called the launch and went home, leaving ILENE a wreck.
Next day I spent three hours cleaning, putting her back together, making the bed, and putting a thinned coat of new varnish on one side of the cafe doors, using the newspaper covered salon table as the work bench. Here they can dry without cats footprints. Several of the books I have read about the exploits of cruisers have chapters entitled to the effect: "The Night [insert name of cat] Went Missing." Most people would say that sailing with cats is not worth the trouble. We love them though.
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