Odalisque - October 30, 2005 Log

Log 2005 - October 30th

Sunday October 30, 2005
"Propeller groping on Hudson/A last hurrah"

Air temp: 65
Water temp: 58 or so
Wind: WNW 5 – 15
Crew: Caleb, Jean M. Jessie, Laurie, Matt

Our intention was to clear off a few barnacles that had built upon the prop in a few minutes. I had heard that ocean water temps were around 58 degrees or less so I assumed the temperature would be similar up the Hudson and I was not going to take any chances, so I brought my light 3 mil. wetsuit, gloves, booties, hood, mask and snorkel, even if it felt like overkill to a real sailor who would just dive in with a knife between his teeth and just do it in 20 seconds or less and bound back onboard.
Jean M. dove into the river, which was a bit bracing, for about 30 seconds with no wetsuit. At first I eschewed the hood but after feeling the temperature I came back out and put on the hood. I couldn’t catch my breath for a while an so was unable to dive under the boat at all. I ended up ditching the snorkel so I could breath easier in the cold water. I had also forgotten how constricting this scuba gear could be . The visibility underwater was poor to nil and I really didn’t get to see the propeller at all so I worked blind by feel and recollection. I could feel our prop with my feet and I could indeed detect barnacles on the prop as well as rudder and hull. It wasn’t going to clean itself however.
I had given some thought to which tool to bring underwater to clean the prop with. I came up with an old railroad spike or the serrated blade knife we keep aboard for cutting lines. The problem was that the visibility was so bad that the accuracy required to use the knife was impossible to achieve. I ended up using the railroad spike with its dull edges and spike acted as both a hammer and a chisel. I am guessing that I dove under the boat 8 or 10 times over 15 minutes in cool water before I gave up.
Jean said that I was looking a little blue around the lips as I reboarded. It was tough to get the we wetsuit off. I was cold but not too cold and soon I was dried, dressed and enjoying a very sunny, beautiful late fall day bouncing around on the Hudson. We started up the engine and the usual swales of current showed astern and I knew that at least we had better propulsion then we had had. We have been told that we should check the propeller monthly for barnacle buildup while in the water and we will try to do so in the future.
Laurie had engaged a babysitter and was able to join us via the club’s launch and we tested it all out in real time. We had plenty of propulsion to come about although the wind was stronger the last time we were out and felt somewhat helpless. The engine was doused and I started to warm up comfortably under silk long johns, jeans, t shirt, shirt, fleece and dry socks and shoes. I cant remember sailing on such a beautiful October 30th day ever. Due to all the hurricanes in the Atlantic this year the leaves are only just starting to turn colors. We have had a glut of rain this October, which might explain the feeling that the river tasted almost like freshwater. It was nonetheless great to be out on the water, in my boat, with my friends on such a beautiful day.
We missed the mooring on our first pass but got there the second time under engine alone. By the end of the season we are all a lot more familiar with the procedure for breaking down the boat: lower/furl sails, sail ties and cover, securing lines and preparing to disembark the barky. This time we sent Laurie back on the launch first and asked Henry, the operator, to pick us up in 15 minutes or so. He took his passenger to shore and we enjoyed the (now much later than high summer) setting sun over Nyack and the NW breeze.
On our way back in the launch Jean was in good spirits and he began reciting the poem “The Owl and the Pussycat”. The launch operator recognized it and said: “Edward Lear.” And he joined in the reciting of the poem:

“The owl and the pussycat went to sea
in a beautiful pea green boat,
they took some honey, and plenty of money
wrapped in a 5 pound note…”

http://www.nonsenselit.org/Lear/ns/pussy.html

It is funny how personality, or character, or even poetry can influence a crowd. Jean was totally in his element and had met the previous and current Commodores of the club and had located the member named Paul K. who had helped us in our time of need. We had purchased some rum in Bermuda that we liked when we were there: Goslings Dark, and we had a bottle ready for him, which we produced and delivered to him in person! Meanwhile, I felt slightly lost in this crowd of people, somewhat older than me with graying hair and wearing nautical clothing. But Jean had managed to socially traverse the entire club before I got to meet anybody. It pays to have a lad that knows some poetry close to his heart.
All in all, I was a little tired but felt no pain as my earlier submersion in cool water and a few head butts of the hull were offset by the natural high of a beautiful sail (and adult beverages) surrounded by trees that were not yet at peak colors. Tired or not Jean dragged me to a restaurant where we had a drink or two before heading home. We were trying to get our “land legs” back and all we could do was think of how lucky we were.

— Caleb Davison