The Thinking Viking was in, shall we say, dire straights. St.Patrick’s day, San Francisco Bay, adrift under the Bay Bridge. The trip home on board the 39′ sailboat was..not going to plan. The plan did not include sails. Thing has a diesel engine that is called by many “bulletproof”. But…the silver bullet – the engine was over heated, fan belt broke, radiator boiling, the main sail was completely stowed for long term berthing, and we were adrift, under the Bay Bridge, in the path of the various SF Bay Ferrys and the big freighters heading for Oakland.
The internet meme joke about “How to Avoid Large Ships” suddenly has meaning. (ed: The correct meme is ”
How to Avoid Huge Ships”) wow – font copied, too.
Shit.
I try to keep us pointed towards home, but with no power, it’s barely possible. Captain breaks out a knife and the cursing begins. Zip tie after zip tie is cut to free the main sail. Cursing continues.
More cursing. Coast Guard almost runs us down.
That motherfucking sail has to be lined up like a 60 foot zipper to get started. Frustrated Captain can’t get it in place. I take over because I see the stress is getting to him, he’s rushing in a mild – and well deserved – panic.
The sail starts to raise. Damn this thing is heavy, it’sjust not going up more than an inch or so at a time. Fuck the winch. I grap the ropes coming from the mast and basically lean my full weight on them. Sail raises a foot. Again. and Again. And again. My hands are chafing.
But at half sail, the boat starts to aim and drive. The dry stiff rope are loosened and the winches start to work and the two of us get that damn thing up.
At this point, we return to the cut version of “Adrift” Adrift. And there was much rejoicing.
Thank Neptune the tide was coming IN.
And we had a goram SPARE FAN BELT -that the Captain installed while I was sailing us slowly home.
Thinking, still better than being eaten by zombies, eh?
MJ