[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: abcdunlimited@hotmail.com Subject: POLARIS From: lance2@juno.com (Lance Martin) Save Address Block Sender Date: Sat, 25 Oct 1997 11:47:22 EDT [Reply/ReplyAll/Forward] [Delete] [Prev/Next Message] [Close] [-] Englishman My MarkVII had been in his shop for two months waiting for parts from England. In his office, discussing my car’s problems, I noticed a marine chart on the wall. Kenny noticed my interest and asked me if I was into boating. I told him I had been in small boats, kayaks and outboards, but I was looking for a small outboard for family use. This led to a discussion, and a boating friendship that lasted over two decades. He educated me in my choice for a boat, a vessel for a family should have a galley, sleeping quarters, and a head. That weekend he came with his wife, and pictures of his boat, to show to Edythe and me. He easily convinced us that for enjoyable boating we should get an inboard vessel with adequate facilities for a boating family. Kenny showed us pictures of his boat, the Noppy. He had it built in Nova Scotia, a box keel lobster boat design, made with pine planks, clinch nailed to hackamatack ribs. A very sea worthy , high prow vessel capable of withstanding storms at sea. Kenny, an expert yachtsman, and his wife, Norma, sailed it back, from Nova Scotia to Long Island, where he customized it for pleasure boating. told him that my preference would be for a steel boat. A few weeks later he called me and said he had located a steel hulled boat that was for sale. He took Edythe and me to the boatyard where I saw the twenty six foot Steelcraft cabin cruiser. I purchased it, and we named it, Polaris. The boat’s sturdy hull was made from war surplus, destroyer steel. It was powered by a Nordberg engine, with accommodations to sleep four, a galley, with an ice box, was in the two bunk bedroom, the dining table converted into a bed for two, and it had a small head (toilet). I converted one of the single bunks with an extension to sleep two. I added a flying bridge, a diving platform, and a long keel that made it very seaworthy and stable. For nineteen years, we had many memorable adventures aboard the Polaris. Kenny taught me much about boating and seamanship, running inlets in following seas, Handling the boat in rough seas and in emergency situations. At times, while anchored in Short Beach, while there was small craft warnings flying from the Coast Guard station, with his family on the Polaris, and I would with him go on the Noppy. He would take his boat out through the treacherous Jones Inlet into the turbulent ocean. He taught me how to handle the boat under such conditions, and how to run the inlet back to sheltered waters. When I had the skill to satisfy him, he would put my family on the Noppy, and we would take the Polaris out during small craft warnings and inclement weather conditions, to practice handling my boat under adverse conditions. Kenny Denston was a superb teacher. He eventually gave up auto repairing and became a vocational teacher, and eventually principal of Brooklyn Automotive High School. One day, while the Polaris and the Noppy were anchored near Jones Inlet, the wind and the waters became threatening. A Coast Guard ship approached and warned us of an approaching gale. The Noppy’s engine started and pulled up its anchor, but the Polaris’ batteries were dead. The boats were heaving and pitching wildly. The Coast Guard had left the scene after we had told them we would pull up anchors and head for our docks in Freeport. We had no radio to call for assistance. Kenny maneuvered the Noppy close to shout that he would try an old fisherman’s trick in getting me started and lead me to safety. The wind roaring in my ears, I could barely hear Kenny’s instructions. He came close and tossed me a heavy hawser which I snubbed to the forward cleat. Then he moved ahead of the Polaris and paid out over a hundred feet of line, while I teetered on the bow and pulled up my anchor. Inside the cabin, I lifted the engine box in order to see the engine and propeller shaft. I instructed Edythe and my three sons to don lift preservers and sit in the stern cockpit. Rain began to pour from the now black sky. Fortunately, both vessels had manual transmissions and I kept the engine in neutral as the Noppy labored against the drag of the Polaris and the raging sea. The Noppy was running at maximum engine revolutions as it towed the Polaris. At first the propeller shaft did not move, but then the pressure of forward motion slowly started the shaft to rotate. When the Noppy reached maximum towing speed, and the shaft was rotating, I threw the transmission into forward. The engine responded and the Polaris was able to move on its own. I idled the engine and left the controls to crawl forward and untie the tow line. I did not want to run over the line and snag the propeller, and Norma quickly hauled in the towline as the Noppy surged ahead in a following sea with huge breaking waves, to enter the turbulent inlet. I followed the Noppy to safety. On another occasion, I was cruising from the east when a dense fog suddenly created a zero visibility situation. These were the days when I had no radio, or weather condition warnings available. I had to rely on my knowledge of the Polaris, its speed at different RPM, my interpretation of the chart, the tide and wind direction and speed. Barely above idle speed, in order to minimize collision with another vessel or object, I navigated the Polaris. With a flashlight illuminating the chart I plotted the vectors I felt would take me in the right directionm My blind flying experience in aircraft helped me plan my course. After four and a half hours, I felt I should be near, or at, the Captree Inlet. The fog was slowly lifting, and I saw the outline of an anchored fishing boat. I steered close and shouted to a seaman seated in the stern, asking him where and in what direction the inlet was. The fog was dispersing rapidly and I saw his grin as he pointed to a sign at the head of the inlet. With an insipid and silly smile, I thanked him. With abated pride, I announced to Edythe and the children, that Dad will always bring them home safely. _____________________________________________ NIGHT OF FEAR Polaris Adventure After lunch on Friday, we left Shelter Island, and our treasure hunt. Vacation was ending and the boys were to be back in school on Monday. I had planned a three hour cruise to Shinnecock Canal where we would tie up for the night, and then leave the next day for Freeport. Fog was setting in as we cruised through Peconic Bay an our way to the canal. The buoys were hard to spot and I slowed down. Soon the buoys were invisible, and navigating would be difficult through areas that had shoals and fisherman nets. My chart indicated that to the north was deep channels to Southhold. I plotted the needed change of course and slowly went in that direction. In the dense fog, I could barely see the prow of the Polaris as it groped it way toward Southhold. After a tense hour, a pole appeared next to the prow. I stopped forward motion and cast a line around the pole, pulled the boat to it, and tied to it with a bowline. I would hold position until the fog lifted. When the fog started to lift, I saw other poles lined up in front of the long dock belonging to a boatyard or marina. I started the engine and released the bowline, then moved to the pier and tied the Polaris to dockside cleats. It was a boatyard, and except for a few boats on land in chocks, and a large, unlit shed, it looked empty. Relieved, Edythe then prepared supper After supper, I took Dexie, the dog, for a walk, while Kenny and Ronnie took, Boots, the cat ashore. There was no one in the shed or boatyard. We had a kerosene lamp on the table as we sat around and reviewed our trip. The lights of a car approached us and stopped in front of the Polaris. I heard the car door open and someone demanded to know who was on the boat. I came out of the cabin and noticed a trooper with his hand on his gun. Edythe and the boys, and a growling Dexie, came out and joined me. The trooper saw we no threat, and released his grip on his gun and came into the light. We told him that we were cruising when the fog set in, and that we sought a safe place to stay for the night. He told us that we were in the Southhold Boatyard, and that the police were on the hunt for a maniac murderer in the area. He told us, that as far as he was concerned, we could remain, but cautioned us against walking about or letting any stranger come on the boat. Then he drove away. A pall of terror fell on us. With long lines, I cautiously tied the stern of the boat to cleats on the dock, then moved slowly a hundred feet past the poles and dropped the anchor. The boys let out the anchor line as I reversed and backed toward the dock while Edythe took up the slack on the stern lines. Halfway to the pier I stopped and tightened the anchor and stern lines. The Polaris was at rest about forty feet from the pier. Someone would have to be a tightrope walker to get on the boat from the pier. We had faith in Dexie to warn us of an intruder. The boys fell asleep, but Edythe and I did not. The next morning, a Packard sedan drove up to the pier, and a man steped out. He looked puzzled at our unorthodox anchoring, and asked what we were doing in his boatyard. He smiled as we explained our situation, then reassured us that the police had a suspect, and it was all right for us to remain. He watched as I lengthened the stern lines and pulled the boat forward to haul up the anchor, then pull the boat back to the pier. I thanked him and told him we would soon be on our way, when he said, “The boat’s name is Polaris. Do you know what it means?” Bruce answered, “Polaris is the North Star. Part of the Little Dipper,” he rambled on, “The Little Dipper is also known as Ursa Minor,” he concluded proudly. “You know stars?” the man asked with a chuckle. “A little bit,” Bruce said, with false modesty, then continued, “The Little Dipper is a constellation next the Big Dipper - which is also known as Ursa Major.” “You seem to know your stars,” the man encouraged. Undaunted, Bruce added, “The Polaris, or North Star, is really a binary star. Did you know that?” Bruce challenged. “Come ashore, young man. and let me shake your hand,” When Bruce stepped ashore the man shook Bruce’s hand and added, “I am Mr. Houston, and I am an amateur astronomer. I have an observatory at my home, and two professors from Columbia are my guests. Would you like to see my observatory and look at the telescope. I’d like you to meet the professors.” Turning to us, Mr. Houston added, “Why don’t you all come and have lunch at my house.” It took us a few minutes to slip into clean clothes. We left the cat locked in the cabin, and Dexie to guard the Polaris while he drove us to his home. It was a large manor with a huge domed structure next to it. Mrs. Houston greeted us and made room for us at a large table, where two men sat looking at celestial charts. After introductions to the professors, a maid served us a sumptuous meal. After eating, Bruce and I went to see the observatory. Inside was a large telescope, and at the touch of a button, the dome opened to the skies as the telescope moved up into position. Bruce was ecstatic peering through the telescope and listening to the professors talk about what could be observed in that part of the visible sky at night. I left them and Bruce, and then rejoined Edythe in the house. Mrs. Houston told us that during the American Revolution, the boatyard made a wooden, two man submarine. It was furtively taken and launched in New York Harbor. where British gunboats were anchored. The ballast tank was flooded to submerge the submarine A hand powered propeller moved the submarine underwater to the hull of a large warship. The hand rotated drill in the nose of the submarine failed to penetrate the thick hull of the warship, and the air in the submarine was getting foul. The men emptied some of the water from the ballast tank, surface slowly to get fresh air. Then it submerged again and slowly made its way to the Brooklyn shore where it was covertly taken back to Southhold. The mission had failed. During the Civil War, a submarine was built, its wood hull was iron clad. The Navy was not interested in a submarine, but put its faith in the iron Monitor, which successfully engaged and sunk the Confederates Merrimac. It was ironic that after the self titled, Admiral Dewey, made contact with Japan, the first sale of an American submarine was sold to Japan. Over the years, the once flourishing boatyard, which built wood boats of all types, was no longer competitive. It no longer built boats, and only had a small crew of workers that did repairs. After a few hours, Bruce returned elated. The Houston’s’ invited us to return and visit them again, as we bid farewell. Mr. Houston drove us back to the Polaris and departed. After we walked the dog and cat, I untied the dock lines and left Southhold. We cruised through Peconic Bay to Shinnecock Canal where I stopped at a gas dock to fill the fuel tank. Then, after checking the weather and tide conditions, I decided it was favorable to take a faster ocean route to our at the Edgo Marina in Freeport. We went through Shinnecock Inlet and into the ocean, where the almost waveless sea permitted a fast journey to our marina. Since that unforgettable vacation cruise, the children often reminisce with us. It was a cruise that bond our family close together, for all time. We often speak about the excitement of the treasure hunt, the worries we had while we cautiously proceeded in the fog to look for a safe haven in Southhold, only to encounter a night of terror. [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]