This boat is not laughing.
But everyone else did! I waver between laughing and fretting. Our n00b flag has been flapping haphazardly this past week. We bought a boat. A boat we probably should've walked away from & came with a trailer, even though we are two weeks from picking up our custom-made, foldable, two-decker trailer that, for $350 more, would also be coming with a boat.
We figured we'd sell the trailer, no problem, but get some sailing and practice trailering in before we make the long trip to pick up our trailer. Well, once we got this AMFlite 14 clonefish home, we discovered a big problem:
The deck is delaminated.
It's insides are separating from its outside.
Okay, we can work with that, right? Good ol' Don Casey and xx-many threads say to drill some shallow holes into the deck and squirt some epoxy in. Okay, we can do that this winter, that's cool. Any boat in our budget right now is bound to have issues, and this will be a good training boat.
Well, then we went sailing.
But we didn't get to sail.
There is a concrete-plant-made lake about a mile from our house. Since we are losing daylight and we need to practice trailering, it seemed like the perfect spot. Well, there is only one place to launch a boat, an ill-conceived boat ramp in a cove that we would need to paddle out of in order to catch the light breeze. That's cool, we can deal. We're learnin' stuff.
We lower the trailer into the water, but we didn't submerge the lights & wiring because we're not sure if they're waterproof & we'd hate to damage anything that we plan to sell.
The launch area looked only a little better than this:
Yum. This actual crap is waiting for us on the other side of the dock like a green mud pool, but the ramp is about half this bad.
We had to wade in to get the boat off the trailer. Gross, but hey, we're old salts! Who don't always communicate well. I wanted to lift the boat off the trailer and set it gently in the water, then walk it around the dock so we could clear the ramp. Mike wanted to slide if off backwards, but I worried the end of the bunks would put too much pressure on the hull as it tips backwards. Well, he's The Man and knows better. Except he doesn't. Ladies, is it worth letting your boat get damaged in order for a Man to understand that You Are Right?
I let him do it his way and hear the tell-tale crackling of a hull in pain. We get it in the water at least and walk it around to the dock because another boat wants in. We are half-rigged (mast and sail on, sail down, rudder not on yet). Mike holds the boat steady while I lay across the deck and pop the rudder on & drop the daggerboard in. We are awesome!
Then we debate whether or not we raise the sail. There is barely a breeze and the paddle is sitting near the door at home. Very useful. My bad. We decide to raise the sail.
The boat drifts around the dock and lazily moves sideways toward the green cess pool of nature.
"Lower the sail!" I cry.
We do, but we fail to control it well enough, and off it goes into the green goo.
Awesome.
We decide that we should walk the boat to the ramp and try again, but Fat Albert and the Nutty Professor are still messing with their fishing boat. Apparently, they didn't undo the lines before lowering into the water or put their stuff in the boat before coming to the ramp. We wait and wait, the boat glaring at us from its green cove. Then Mike says, "I'm taking it to the dock. Take the mainsheet out."
So. There are two docks. We are drifting beside the ramp dock and there is a fishing dock several yards away out on a point. I assume he means the dock we are by and have access to & that he wants to get to the other, cleaner side of it, regardless of what the other two yahoos are doing.
"Why do you want the mainsheet? We need that on the sail."
He just keeps repeating that he wants the mainsheet. I try to explain that we need it to control the sail in case it falls into the water again, and that you can't pull the boat with a line that's attached to the sail. It ain't gonna work right. He just starts yelling for the mainsheet. So, fine. I toss it to him.
And the sail goes right into the goo again.
"I'm so done with this," I say. And drop an "I told you so" to boot. Because that always helps a tense situation.
We get the sail back on the deck, dropping a nice pool of green crap into the cockpit. Yummy. I put the rudder and daggerboard up, take out the mainsheet (now if the sails fall, we are screwed), square knot it to the blue line at the bow, and toss it back to Mike. At this point, I think we are trying to wrap up and go home. I get out of the boat.
Mike starts walking to away from the dock.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking it over there!" He points to the fishing dock.
"Why?"
"So we can sail."
Realize, the boat and I are covered in what is likely toxic algae byproduct of the concrete plant. "I thought we were done! I'm done. Look at the boat! Look at the lack of wind."
But The Man is determined. He starts walking, and the boat follows like a nervous, slimed dog. This is the only stretch of shore where we can't see rocks. I have to keep getting into the water every time it gets stuck against the shore or I hear it scraping something. Each time, I say I am done, we are hurting the boat, and even if we got away from the dock, we'll get stuck out there.
Finally, after probably the fifth or sixth "I'm done!" Mike snaps and says 'What do you want?'
"I want to go home. We're losing light and we have to scrub everything down when we get home."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
So, there was some shouting.
Eventually, Mike gave in and we proceeded to walk the boat back to the ramp, where Fat Albert and the Nutty Professor were still messing with the boat on the ramp. It does not take a half hour to launch a fishing boat. Unless you are doing it wrong.
Despite the failed boat drop before, Mike wanted to load the boat the same way we unloaded. I try to boat out the failed logic here but give up. There is just no point. If we put a hole in the boat, then I can take a picture and frame it and we can fight about it some more. More crackling and creaking sounds & me profusely apologizing to the boat.
A boat that feels heavier.
Which likely means it's taken in water.
Sad face.
We take it home & spend about an hour scrubbing scum off the sail and boat for all the neighbors to see. This time, we put it on and off the trailer like we're supposed to, and the boat definitely felt heavier. I'm hoping it's because I'm tired and not that it's got a major leak. We will need to put in an inspection port & air it out or hope we can pop out the drain plug & drain it. If we sell this boat, it needs to be dry, and if we keep this boat, I don't want to make the inside weaker than it is.
*sigh*
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