One of the line of boats on the west side of the yard literally bit the dust last week. I noticed something was up when the scavengers mysteriously appeared like yellow-jackets on a drumstick at a picnic.
While not in bad shape at all, the long deep keeled Columbia 27 had been sitting there all the time 338 has been there - waiting for its projects to begin again. Gone.
There are too many other abandoned dreams in the yard. Four or five have gone thru lien sales and been chain sawed and crushed. Each has been worthy of rebuilding, but now they insult the landfill. I hooked up the extension cord and joined the other vulchurs with my tired Makita sawsall with the dull demolition blade that kept vibrating out of the tool. I violated the molded cockpit coaming with the same kind of impersonal purpose you see liposuction surgeons sweep the fat out of middle-aged bellys.
I got the four bronze jam cleats. passing up the South Coast winches and cast bronze brackets, and gave $20 to the harbor master. Haven't recovered. Good ale didn't help. When I came back a few days later, the boat had never been there, and another project was in its place. Haven't looked at the cleats still frozen to chunks of fibreglass and plywood.
Another Solstice. Happy Solstice everybody !
The days are getting longer again. Listen to your Commanders and Ariels as they whisper to you of projects and petting long forgotten.
"Never give in, Never give in,
never, never, never, never -
in nothing, great or small,
large or petty - never give in
except to convictions of honor
or good sense." W. Churchill
Harrow 10/29/41 (address in its entirety)
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