After a short visit I walked up the dirt road away from the hamlet of Two Harbors, my heart aflame like a burning barn. 52 years old was late in the game to make a great sailor but that day I felt like Shackleton, like Chichester, Slocum, and all the rest. When you reach the top of the low hill the charms of Two Harbors continue to unfold . You admire the old school house, and further on, the venerable Isthmus Yacht Club, and then after a few steps more you see it, Catalina Harbor. How to describe it? A tongue of blue water points at you, the sun is shining on the water nearest but farther out, at the entrance of the harbor the sun light, and the wind blowing on the water, create sheets of silver that glide over the surface and then vanish. On your left is a meadow of light brown grass, with sparse short trees and patches of cactus, that slopes gently up into hills that then steepen and rise to 1000 feet. On the right are also brown hills but the slope is steeper and the hills taller and the peaks more rocky. Then you notice the sounds, chirping birds, the wind in the trees, the lap of a wave at its journeys end, and nothing else. No jets, no roar from cars and motorcycles and freeways.
After my walk in the afternoon sun it was time for my corporeal reward, my first Buffalo Milk at the Two Harbors bar. I walked up , took a seat and greeted the bartender.
"Good Afternoon, how are things with you today? I asked.
"Good, and you?" he replied
"Great" I said. "I just did my first solo sail to the Island". The bartenders face dropped.
"Yeah, you and everybody else. What can I get for you?" he monotoned at me.
"One Buffalo Milk please, I have been looking forward to this."
"What entre do you want? he asked in a way that reminded me of my son at 14.
"No entre, Just the drink." I corrected.
" You can't have the drink unless you order an entre." he retorted.
Human reason would not budge the man, it was not dinner time, so I departed feeling somewhat less like Chichester.
Paddling back towards Roxanne pride of ownership was rekindled as I saw her for the first time ensconced in the little harbor. Once aboard I stepped below and the appreciation of my Ericson began to grow more. While the exterior is overdue for work the interior has survived well. Compared with other E27's she seems to have more wood work. Areas that in some 27's are plain colored fiberglass are wood on Roxanne. There is even a short stair to enter the V birth which is ideal for barking your shins if you are not careful. One step instead of two may have been better but it looks lovely. The cushions are in great shape and the settee's are comfortable. I usually sleep on the starboard side. If entering the quarter birth is easy then exiting it will be very difficult, and vice versa, so it it used for storage. The galley is in good condition with sink and ice box and a whale pump in need of a rebuild. The Orego two burner alcohol stove came with two new cannisters and does the job well. Much has been written about the art of filling these cannisters from a square gallon can, but I will forgo a separate post and end the debate with two words: "Turkey Baster". Cooking is always an adventure as there is no place to put anything except a 12 ounce beverage, The addition of a folding extra counter space to the right of the galley is a bright idea used by many.
That evening I cooked my first meal at the Island, I can't recall what it was. That is why I am recording what I do remember, so I may revisit someday and look back. Mark Twain in the "Innocents Abroad" talks about journals and how writers, after a time, cease to make entries. That is so with me. Travels abroad in my youth were recorded in great detail at first but the writing faded, then died. Yet those snippets I value as they often bring back other unrecorded memories. So I will endeavor while the spirit lasts. I am certain that the cliché's, comma splices, and revolving tense can cause heartburn in some and would probably have been reason for a copy boy to be shown the door, so I thank you all for your indulgence.
That night I slept like a... person who had been going all out for weeks and was taken unaware by sweet oblivion.
To be continued...
After my walk in the afternoon sun it was time for my corporeal reward, my first Buffalo Milk at the Two Harbors bar. I walked up , took a seat and greeted the bartender.
"Good Afternoon, how are things with you today? I asked.
"Good, and you?" he replied
"Great" I said. "I just did my first solo sail to the Island". The bartenders face dropped.
"Yeah, you and everybody else. What can I get for you?" he monotoned at me.
"One Buffalo Milk please, I have been looking forward to this."
"What entre do you want? he asked in a way that reminded me of my son at 14.
"No entre, Just the drink." I corrected.
" You can't have the drink unless you order an entre." he retorted.
Human reason would not budge the man, it was not dinner time, so I departed feeling somewhat less like Chichester.
Paddling back towards Roxanne pride of ownership was rekindled as I saw her for the first time ensconced in the little harbor. Once aboard I stepped below and the appreciation of my Ericson began to grow more. While the exterior is overdue for work the interior has survived well. Compared with other E27's she seems to have more wood work. Areas that in some 27's are plain colored fiberglass are wood on Roxanne. There is even a short stair to enter the V birth which is ideal for barking your shins if you are not careful. One step instead of two may have been better but it looks lovely. The cushions are in great shape and the settee's are comfortable. I usually sleep on the starboard side. If entering the quarter birth is easy then exiting it will be very difficult, and vice versa, so it it used for storage. The galley is in good condition with sink and ice box and a whale pump in need of a rebuild. The Orego two burner alcohol stove came with two new cannisters and does the job well. Much has been written about the art of filling these cannisters from a square gallon can, but I will forgo a separate post and end the debate with two words: "Turkey Baster". Cooking is always an adventure as there is no place to put anything except a 12 ounce beverage, The addition of a folding extra counter space to the right of the galley is a bright idea used by many.
That evening I cooked my first meal at the Island, I can't recall what it was. That is why I am recording what I do remember, so I may revisit someday and look back. Mark Twain in the "Innocents Abroad" talks about journals and how writers, after a time, cease to make entries. That is so with me. Travels abroad in my youth were recorded in great detail at first but the writing faded, then died. Yet those snippets I value as they often bring back other unrecorded memories. So I will endeavor while the spirit lasts. I am certain that the cliché's, comma splices, and revolving tense can cause heartburn in some and would probably have been reason for a copy boy to be shown the door, so I thank you all for your indulgence.
That night I slept like a... person who had been going all out for weeks and was taken unaware by sweet oblivion.
To be continued...
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