The last two weeks I was in Greece, mostly on vacation but taking care of some family business too (as usual). So I didn't do any work on the boat but heck, I needed the vacation and the inspiration to continue, since the plan is to take the boat there when I retire (eventually). It will obviously cost far more to ship it than to build it, but if it's part of a half-containerload of stuff we may be moving anyway I'll be able to justify it.
There was plenty of inspiration from the beautiful beaches and the sea, which ranges in color from the purest, palest aquamarine to the deepest indigo, depending on depth, weather and what's on the bottom. When crossing on the ferry I am always reminded of Homer's frequent reference to sailing "on the wine-dark sea" (epi oinopa ponton). This is very appropriate since the island has had a reputation since early antiquity for superlative wine. The house we built for our retirement sits on what used to be a vineyard for three generations, up to my grandfather who passed away in 1963. He was a Greek Orthodox priest and my strongest memories of him are olfactory: a mixture of incense, sweat (from toiling in the fields in a black cassock) and ouzo, which he distilled in copious quantities and partook of in moderation.
While swimming at a different beach every day, I was always aware of wind and wave and made mental calculations of what it would be like to hop from beach to beach. The island's circumference is about 60 miles, with dozens of beaches, many more-or-less inaccessible by car. However, I didn't get much inspiration from other sailors. I am in my fifties but I do not remember seeing a single traditional boat with sails when I was young: motors had already eclipsed sails. The occasional sailing yacht makes an appearance but none seem to be from the island. What I did see was perhaps the sorriest spectacle of lubberly incompetence I had ever seen, in what is arguably the most stunning cove and beach on the island. A group of tourists (from some Balkan country by the sound of them) had rented a sweet little catamaran built on inflatable pontoons. Using a large outboard they moved it from its mooring, through the swimmers (I almost called the police for the brazen breach of safety) to the beach. There they proceeded to hoist the mainsail (a tall, narrow, fully-battened Mylar affair) and unfurl the jib. Then they used the outboard to move part way up the cove, cut the motor and started sailing straight for the rocks. Clearly they had no more than a vague idea about how to tack, and I suspect that they hadn't even deployed the very small centerboard. They brought the jib over but did not put the helm to the lee, or the helm did not obey. In the nick of time they fired up the outboard and managed to exit the bay. Then they spent the next hour or two making approximately 20 feet of headway, until they ran out of patience and motored back in. All in all, a waste of boat, wind, water and beautiful scenery.
Hopefully my boat will do better in that setting. BTW, I thought of calling it Aerie (every one of the four vowels is pronounced separately in Greek), after a Homeric name for the island which means airy or breezy. I may be mixing Ionic and Attic dialects of ancient Greek in spelling it thus, but I like the sound, look and concept of the name. We'll see.
This coming weekend I'll be resuming my work, so keep checking 176inches.
boatbuilder
How could you mix Ionic and Attic dialects of ancient Greek? For shame! Also, your appraisal of those inept Balkans is a classic example of land-seat sailing. Finally, I would like an explanation of the "final eye-splice on the snotter" that may be comprehensible even to land-lubbers.
ReplyDeleteGot me on both misdemeanors. Strictly speaking, the Ionic version should be Ηερίη and the Attic (and Aeolian or Doric) Αερία. Αερίη is the sort of hybrid that Herodotus would use, and I like it better.
ReplyDeleteAs for the query, I know it's in jest but I will try. A snotter is a line (piece of rope that is) which holds in place a sprit boom and controls its tension. A sprit boom is a kind of boom that does not follow the foot of the sail but cuts across it diagonally. Finally, an eye splice is a loop formed by splicing the end of a rope into itself. Splicing involves weaving the unraveled strands at the end of the rope into itself (eye splice) or another rope. Splicing is old-timey, simple, elegant, and stronger and smoother than a knot.