I think it's Dot's (Sarah's sister) fault. She's the one to come up with the name Fifty Dollar Folly for my sailboat.
Yesterday, Saturday, I spent about 14 hours frantically rushing around to get the last minute details completed, all my gear stowed in the boat and everything ready to go. I had hoped to go to nearby Fishtrap Lake to check out the boat and motor, but I had too much to do. So I started the motor on the back of the boat and it ran fine. Close enough.
After church, we put the last minute things in the boat, tied everything down for traveling and left about 2. Sarah's friend Alice and her 8th grade daughter Ashley decided to go along for the ride.
I had trouble getting the trailer to go over the trailer hitch. They sometimes do that. So I tried pulling the car forward and back, so that it would be just right. I finally put the car in neutral so it could roll gently against the front of the ball. No luck. So I raised the trailer hitch up off the ball to try again.
Well!!!! With the trailer unhitched, the car started rolling forward toward the 25 foot cliff just on the other side of the driveway. Sarah started screaming, and I grabbed at the bumper. But I could tell there would be no way for me to stop the car. Now it was gaining speed toward the cliff just 10 more feet away. Fortunately, I had left the car door open, so I ran beside the car and jumped in. The motor was not running so I had no power brakes, but I slammed against them very hard and the car stopped just short of the cliff.
Sarah and I both were very excited about that little adventure, and breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Well, after a few more minutes of trying and some axle grease in the right spots, the trailer hitched properly and we were off.
That's when the air conditioner fan quit working. We started to tell Alice and Ashley that they may not want to go with us in a hot car, but then the far started working again and all was well.
After the two hour drive to Ashland, we arrived at the Ohio River. The only problem now was that the water had apparently dropped leaving about 10 feet of the boat launch covered in 3 inches of very slick mud. So I found an board and started shoveling mud back into the river. I cleared a spot big enough to back the car into and then threw buckets of water on it to remove the rest of the mud. I figured it would not be a problem launching the boat because coming out of the water I would only be pulling the trailer. If I had to pull that big heavy sailboat out, that might be a different story. Of course, there was still this nagging doubt that the car would slip right into the Ohio River and never be seen again. But that didn't happen.
Then we had to put up the mast. The mast which is very tall and very heavy and has to be pivoted from the top of the cabin which is even more awkward. Ashley got in the cockpit and helped from within the boat while Sarah and Alice held a rope attached to the front stay wire. We got it about up and I saw that two of the side wires were crossed. So we let it back down fixed the wires and lifted the heavy thing again. This time a halyard was crossed. Back down. Back up. This time the back stay was twisted around the masthead. Back down. Back up. (This was getting old.) But this time we made it.
Mast up. Time to launch.
I backed down without slipping into the Ohio River and launched the boat without too much trouble. We pulled it through the shallow water to a concrete dock where I tied it up. I was surprised at the wave action and that was after the last barge was way out of sight.
I got into the boat to get more ropes... AND noticed water in the bottom of the boat. This boat was LEAKING! After a quick search, I found the leak at the keel pivot bolt. Well, I remembered that I had not tightened the bolt assuming that the water would not get that high and I would just tighten it after I lowered the swing keel for sailing. But the water was THAT HIGH and coming in quick.
The two pipe wrenches, which were the only tools I had big enough for the 1 inch bolt, were stashed here and there, in separate places, underneath all my gear, underneath the cushions, underneath the wooden locker covers. I frantically started throwing gear, cushions, locker covers and ripping open tool boxes. When I finally had both pipe wrenches, I started tightening the bolt. But it would only tighten a little way. After several minutes, I finally realized that I had already tightened the bolt all the way to the end of the threads, and the only way to get it tighter was to take it off and add thick washers.
My mind raced for alternative solutions.... all the while the boat was sinking! (Actually, it was just leaking. Leaking sounds so much more polite. But enough leaking results in sinking, which was what was on my mind!) By now the bottom had about 3 inches of water, and I realized there was no alternative but to take the boat home and work on it again.
That meant that I had to put the trailer back in the water, down that slippery boat ramp, and this time I would have to pull the boat out. Fortunately, it came out pretty easy and I only spun the tires a little.
Of course, now we had to lower the mast again. But going down was much easier than putting it up. And I had to get most of the water out of the boat.
Finally, we were ready for the two hour drive back to Pikeville, with one dejected sailor contemplating how he would make the repairs and figuring when he would make it back to the Ohio.
As I drove away, I remembered how swift the river flow was. It was a bit worrisome anyway. Maybe this is best. Surely this is best. But it sure is frustrating.
Who named the boat Fifty Dollar Folly? It seems to be a prediction.