“Do you think we should give them a hand?” asked Neil.
The image of me holding onto the bottom of the mast and tripping on the lifeline sending the mast to the bottom of the Hudson River flashed through my mind. “We’ll leave it to the professionals,” I replied.
Scarano Boat works had attached the spreaders to the mast. The mast, which had been prepared and made ready, was set to be placed on the boat in anticipation of the upcoming day. Supported by sturdy wooden stands, the mast stood tall and imposing, creating an impressive sight, while the crane, positioned near the loading dock, waited patiently for the upcoming tasks that awaited it on the following day. The warm sunshine welcomed us, providing the perfect setting to unwind and fully enjoy our leisure time.
To our great surprise, the mast stepping occurred without any incidents. As we were cruising down the Hudson, we happened to glance up at the mast and noticed that the spinnaker halyard had mistakenly been threaded through the spreaders on the incorrect side. We engaged in a thorough debate about the option of retracing our steps and reaching out to Scarano Boatworks in order to address the error, but we ultimately decided against it due to the potential impact it could have on the tightly scheduled plans we had committed to. Other options we discussed were to see if there was a crane at our next stop- Shadows Marina. Ultimately, we selected the option to pull one of us up the mast to fix the problem. I shuddered at the thought of the last time I had done this 600 miles off shore returning from the Bahamas.
“What happened?” asked Neil.
“The Code 0 sail gave us trouble as it remained stubbornly stuck at the top of the mast, making it impossible to bring it down,” I answered. “The crew’s response to my question about who wanted to go up the mast was met with a deafening silence. Being the skipper, it seemed like the responsibility of being the hero was going to fall on me. They hauled me up the mast in the rough seas. Due to the size of the waves, I was forcefully propelled towards the mast, colliding headfirst in a manner reminiscent of a swinging pendulum. When the bosun’s chair slipped to 45 degrees, 74 feet at the top of the mast, I slid onto the straps holding me in and my testicles got crushed by the impact of smashing into the mast. I saw stars from the searing pain.
“Wow. It sounds exciting. I’ll go this time,” said Neil.
In disbelief, I glanced at him incredulously. I must confess, I did not try to dissuade him. from going up the mast. I often find myself giving him advice and looking out for him, reminding myself that he is my younger brother. This was not one of those times….. I tied him in the bosun’s chair using 2 halyards. Steve and I hauled him up the mast. Neil untangled the spinnaker halyard successfully and saved us untold grief.
The trip down the Hudson River was a sensory delight, with the cool mist from the water and the smell of fresh river air. As autumn approached, the leaves in the trees were beginning to transform, showcasing a beautiful array of yellow and red shades. As the warm sunrays filtered through the trees, the beauty and serenity of the surroundings were amplified.
The early morning fog on the Hudson West Point military academy
We arrived at Half Moon Bay, 20 miles north of New York City. Steve had to return to Toronto for Rosh Hashanah. He left by Uber. It was a tearful goodbye as the three of us had such a good time together.
Steve sent me a text message. “You won’t believe this. The Uber driver is from Samana in the Dominican Republic.”
“I knew I recognized him!” I said excitedly. “He’s Gavin, from my novel ‘The Embryo’ isn’t he?”
“He says he doesn’t know any Gavin,” replied Steve.
“I’d recognize him anywhere,” I countered. “He’s known over Caribbean as the one who keeps lonely sailor women satisfied when their husbands fly back to the US to work. Just like in my novel. His website is “JustAskForGavin.com. Now he’s working the east coast as an Uber driver!”
Steve didn’t respond for a while. I imagined Steve having a deep conversation with Gavin now we knew what he was up to. “He refunded my money! $102. I told him we’d keep quiet about his new gig of keeping lonely New York women happy as an Uber driver.”
