I just returned home from visiting Robin. She was in good shape, I'm happy to report. I loaded non-perishable provisions for the trip to the Chesapeake from Connecticut next week. Getting out to her proved a bit of a challenge, however.
I knew that Curt and Barbara Michael, who own the mooring Robin is occupying, were on a cruise with their local club around Long Island Sound, so they wouldn't be available to give me a dinghy ride out to Hamburg Cove, which is at least a half mile from the nearest semi-public dock. But I phoned Mike anywy and left a message on his cell phone. I said I was in Essex, CT, and if there was some way to hitch a ride to Robin, I'd stock up the larder.
I had to visit the Soundings office because Collin Dehnert, the computer fixer there, had promised to bring my laptop up to speed. Once I had handed the laptop off to Collin, I drove over to the boatyard where Mike and Barb keep their Egg Harbor 40 when they are not using it. But the boat yard was busy and there was no way there to borrow a boat or get a ride.
I was just heading back to New Jersey when the phone rang. It was Mike, and he had a suggestion. Barb's sister, Janet, has a Carib 33 moored near Robin and she has a dinghy docked at the local yacht club. Mike said he was contacting Janet, but that I could certainly use her inflatable, a blue Achilles with an outboard mounted on back.
Great, I said, so I turned around and went back to the club dock, not far from the boatyard, and sure enough, there was the one an only blue Achilles I've ever seen -- Robin's egg blue, no less. I announced to a lady at the club who I was and what I was doing.
After I had heard from Mike, I had visited the local Stop & Shop supermarket. I had cases of bottled water and of green tea. I had boxes of cereal and cans of soup and green peas and sliced potatoes. I had bags of trail mix and packages of crackers and cookies and more cans -- of chili and beef stew, along with some mayonaise and some mustard, the All-American yellow kind.
When I had all of the provisions loaded in the dingy, the sky had turned from sunny to overcast and it felt like rain. I tried to start the motor but couldn't get it to kick over. But there was a pair of oars mounted on the dinghy, so I untied from the dock and began rowing.
I think I mentioned in an earlier blog that to get to the cove from the inner body of water where the club and the boatyard are located requires passing through a narrow strait. I'm guessing the entire distance from the dock to Robin was about a half mile.
I had been rowing only about three minutes when I realized I was building up quite a sweat, so I removed my T-shirt. The kids from the yacht club sailing school came by in three Boston Whalers. They had moored their Optis out in the outer cove and were coming ashore for lunch.
Once through the strait, my phone rang. It was Monica. I told her what was happening with a "Mission Accomplished" tone in my voice, no doubt.
At about this time, a young couple paddled by in a canoe heading toward the inner harbor. A bit farther along, when I was in the cove proper, I saw a whaler coming in my direction from the inner harbor. A blond boy was steering. Sitting before him, facing toward me, were a couple. All three were looking at me. I thought: Gee, maybe they will offer me a tow.
But when they got closer, I realized I probably wouldn't get a tow. They pulled up not far off beside the dinghy and began gesturing and looking concerned. It appeared that they were questioning my right to be aboard the blue boat.
I had met Janet only once before, but once I heard her voice, I realized who the dinghy police were. I smiled and explained that Mike had told me it was okay to use the boat.
"Are you Doug?" Janet said.
When I said yes, she instantly relaxed, realizing that I wasn't precisely the thief she had thought I was. Then she said something to the effect: "I want to see Robin." Seems she had followed our adventure in the Bermuda One-Two.
Janet then climbed into the dinghy and with a mighty yank started the outboard. She then graciously took me to Robin, where she helped me transfer the provisions.
I gave Janet a tour of Robin and discovered a note attached to the companionway. It was from Bob Rupinsky, who crewed on Robin on the trip up to Newport in late May. He had made his own ocean voyage from Keyport, NJ, to Block Island and in his note said that he had moored in Hamburg Cove next to Robin.
Small world. Can't wait to hear from him about his adventure.