[In-Box/Compose/Addresses/Folders/Options/LogOut] [Click our Sponsor's banner, with Easy Return to Hotmail.] [Image] Click here for more information. Read Message RELATED:Dictionary Thesaurus --------------------------------------------------------------- To: RCA001@juno.com, BGoldst697@aol.com, ijoss@larkom.net, Wallace171@aol.com, abcdunlimited@hotmail.com Cc: HOWGLAD1@juno.com, friedmsa@UCBEH.SAN.UC.EDU, SCHAF25440@aol.com, barmur@aol.com Subject: Blackout (A Polaris Adventure) From: lance2@juno.com (Lance Martin) Save Address Block Sender Date: Sun, 26 Oct 1997 22:31:48 EST [Reply/ReplyAll/Forward] [Delete] [Prev/Next Message] [Close] [-] Friends are chosen, relatives are not. In the summer of 1977. my friend Howard, I never considered him a brother-in law, and his wife Gladys, were our guests on the first long cruise, of our yacht, the Tryst. We were to spend two weeks cruising and visiting places of interest, and share equally in the expense. The sun was as brilliant as our optimism as we left Freeport and cruised into the Atlantic Ocean. The Tryst was a mile offshore, running smoothly on an easterly course, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Edythe, wide eyed, her mouth gaping, and unable to talk, was pointing to the starboard. Howard and Gladys were on the bridge, gripping the rail and frozen like open mouthed statues staring at something in the ocean near the Tryst. I held on to the helm, but glanced down on the starboard side of the boat. There, within twenty feet of the Tryst, was a whale swimming parallel in the direction we were going. I saw the huge blowhole on its head, and estimated its length to be much longer than our fifty foot yacht. It was pacing the Tryst at the same speed. I immediately pulled back the throttles and put the propellers in neutral. I did not want to injure or antagonize a whale of that size. The Tryst slowed its forward motion, and the whale slid by and dived. I waited quite a while for the whale to surface before I started the propellers, but we never saw the whale again. It was a whale of a thrill to start our cruise with such unexpected excitement. We continued to look about as we cruised east at fourteen knots, then went through Shinnecock Inlet, and through the locks in Shinnecock Canal into Peconic Bay to stop at Sag Harbor. We tied up at the town dock, lunched at a waterside restaurant, and spent the rest of the day visiting the antique shops and browsing through the town. The following day we spent the morning at the Sag Harbor Whaling Museum, then we returned to the Tryst for lunch. In effect, the Tryst was self contained, and served as a hotel on our cruise. There was no need for hotel or motel bills, and since most of the meals were on the Tryst, the major cost of a two week cruise would be fuel consumption. The next morning we cruised to Greenport, and tied up at the town dock., and visited the sights. We browsed at the antique shops. Glady was interested in art, and took every opportunity to examine the work of artists. We remained at the dock overnight, then we cruised around the tip of the north fork of Long Island into Long Island Sound. We spent two days visiting sites in Buzzards Bay and Block Island Sound, then we continued to the Connecticut River. I took the Tryst eight miles up the river and entered Hamburg Cove where we anchored for the night. Edythe and I had been there many times, and we wanted our guests, Gladys and Howie. to see this unusual cove. It was a fresh body of water, surrounded by forested hills. For centuries, whaleboats, and other ocean vessels, would come into this cove to anchor for a few days. Barnacles, salt water algae, and other marine life attached to the hulls of ocean vessels, would perish in the fresh water of Hamburg Cove. It was a traditional way to clean the hulls of salt water life forms that were attached to the hulls, decreasing the vessels speed and performance. We ate our supper on the fly bridge, in the seclusion of Hamburg Cove. We remained at anchor for two nights, and then departed for our next stop at Mystic, Connecticut. As a member of the Mystic Seaport Museum, I was given free dockage. The seventeen foot width of the Tryst did not fit between the standard 12 foot wide spacing of the poles at the dock. The dock master permitted us to tie up on the outside pier, a short distance from the historic whaling ship, the Henry Morgan. We spent four days there, enjoying the museum, and after the visiting hours ended, there were classes and programs for students staying at the museum, celestial navigation, knot tying, seamanship. and lectures on marine history. We joined the classes which interested us. In Mystic, we had the advantage to explore the town itself. I had two bicycles aboard the Tryst which we used to pedal to town and purchase supplies. The membership pass permitted us access to and from the Museum at all hours. We would buy a bottle of wine or liqueur, and after supper, sit and toast each other and the success of the cruise. The Tryst left Mystic, Connecticut to cross the Sound and proceed to Coeckles Harbor, in Shelter Island. The barometer was falling, and I increased my cruising speed to arrive at Coeckles Harbor before nightfall. A fog was beginning to settle, and we were on the bridge, studying the chart, and looking for marker buoys. We were scheduled to pass Gull Island on our way across the Sound. Gladys called out, “There is Gull Island.” A few hundred yards ahead , in the settling fog, was the low form of an island with a large hill. My calculations of the Tryst’s speed, seemed in error. I had arrived at Gull Island’s location too rapidly. Something was wrong. Then as we looked at the island, it started to move. As we came close, we saw that it was a submarine, and from a distance the conning tower had looked a hill. It slid slowly beneath the water, it’s conning tower finally disappearing from sight. I realized that in Groton and New London, Connecticut, submarines were built and based there. Despite impending inclement weather, we arrived safely in Coeckles Harbor as the fog and the night darkened the skies. Weather reports indicated hurricane possibilities. For maximum safety, I set the main anchor in deep water with 200 feet of chain, another anchor on was set at forty five degrees from the main anchor. A stern anchor was added. The Tryst now had three well placed anchors with adequate scope. Other boats seeking a safe haven were arriving and anchoring. Inexperienced or careless boatmen, tied up together to form a raft of boats, held by only a few anchors. I watched a large cruiser tie up to another large cruiser that was anchored They would be in trouble when the storm came, but my main concern was that they could lose their anchor’s holding power, and crash into the Tryst. The sky was black, and the lights on anchored boats seemed dim and far away. Lightning accompanying the sudden deluge of rain, lit up the harbor, and, I could momentarily see all the boats at anchor. The fury of the wind increased, and between lightning flashes, I noticed the raft of boats was drifting toward the shore. The two large cruisers that had tied up together were also in trouble. The one anchor that held both boats was not sufficient. Between lightning flashes, I could see that frantic actions were taking place as the unanchored boat started it engines and cast loose from the other cruiser. It was too late. Both boats were by then in shallow water and were grounded. The winds and wave actions lifted and pounded them mercilessly on the rocky bottom. The raft of boats piled up on the shore were being pounded on the rocks by the elements. Despite the potential danger, there was an element of anticipation and excitement that kept us awake. I lit all the lights on the Tryst to make us as visible as possible and I started the engines and kept them running. When I felt the Tryst strain against an anchor, I used the engines to move the vessel and keep the strain off Two of the boats in the harbor started to drift, but I could see that the owners were experienced boatmen. They moved to a new position and reset their anchors. All night the storm continued. Early afternoon, the storm ended, the last wisps of black clouds streaked away over the horizon, and a bright sun and clear skies reigned. We ravenously ate our first meal since the storm began, and decided to end our vacation cruise and make a run for home. As we hauled up our three anchors, we looked at the boatmen examining their damaged vessels on the shore, and the sad plight of the two large cruisers listed on their sides on the shore. I made some calculations, and felt that I could make it to Freeport before nightfall. At maximum cruising speed, the Tryst made its passage through the now calm waters. The sun blazed like a furnace and we were sweating and hot on the bridge, talking about the awesome storm we witnessed in Coeckles Harbor, that interrupted our vacation and cut short our desire to cruising. In late afternoon, the Tryst was secure in its slip in the marina. Feeling very sweaty and dirty, I left Edythe and Gladys to wash up on the Tryst, and I called out to them, that I would wash in the marina’s shower room. I dislike strangers talking to me if I am in a shower soaping up my body and its appendages. Two other men were also sharing the large four station shower stall. I tried not to listen, but some of their words stirred my interest, “... after the blackout, they are looting and breaking in all over the city.... the city was without lights all night .... abandoned cars and trucks are blocking rescue and emergency teams .. that blackout.... “What blackout?” I asked. “The blackout that hit the city,” one of the strangers said. “I did not hear of any blackout.” I admitted. “What blackout? When?” “Where the hell were you, that you did not hear of the blackout that hit New York, and all the suburbs, last night during the storm?” the other stranger asked. “We were cruising the past few weeks. We did not listen to the radio.,” I said, and realized that there really had been a blackout. I grabbed my clothes, and ran from the shower to the Tryst to inform them of a blackout that occurred while we were in Coeckles Harbor. I was concerned about our homes and families. While I was taking a shortcut across the grass to the Tryst, I did not notice Howard on the walkway going to the showers. Howard related his humorous introduction to the blackout, as he stepped into the shower room. A man told Howard, “Can you imagine, there was a jerk in here that did not know that we had a blackout all over the city?” “What blackout?” the puzzled Howie asked. When informed of the blackout, he raced back to the Tryst. As he was running from the showers, he heard one of the men say. “Another jerk that did not hear of the blackout.” [Reply/ReplyAll/Forward] [Delete] [Prev/Next Message] [Close] [-] [Move To] [Click our Sponsor's banner, with Easy Return to Hotmail.] [Image] Click here for more information. [In-Box/Compose/Addresses/Folders/Options/LogOut]