All last night, all day today. Veering slightly east from yesterday. Warmer with a bit o sun.
We are a somewhat saturated with the sound of surf.
Heliotrope hauled and partially prepped for winter, but too windy to unfurl and strike the job.
A wild end to the season. Since Mark wanted to sail with us, we scheduled the trip to Gore Bay for today, Sunday. The long-range forecast seemed okay. But when we left the dock at 10:30 conditions were kinda bad and getting worse.
On the way out of Mudge Bay, while we were reefing the main, the snap shackle holding the main sheet to the traveler broke, letting the boom swing free. That was not good. So we dropped the sail and scrounged a replacement shackle. Once that was fixed we went to re-raise the reefed main only to have the halyard shackle come free of the headboard and swing around the backstay. That of course required turning around and heading down wind, digging out the boathook, and then performing some aerobatic snagging-type gyrations.
The idea of turning back flashed by all of us at that point—but with the main finally sheeted in hard and a scrap of jib rolled out, we carried on, beating into gusts of gale force wind, and ever increasing seas.
By pinching up in the gusts we were able to keep windward enough to make the green turning buoy at the start of the Clapperton channel. At that point is was: roll in the jib, drop the main, hoist the mizzen, turn down wind, roll out a slightly bigger scrap of jib—and then…take off!
Seven and a half knots occasionally, and once out in the big water, seas of perhaps 5 feet, on the quarter, with Heliotrope doing some steep rolling. Mark tossed a ginger cookie, but otherwise we were all fine, except for the cold. We were shivering and shaking by the time Gore Bay hove into view, where John and Mary Ellen came to pick us up in car with a heater.
Once back in Kagawong, at the marina, as we were picking up our car, The Geisers pulled up, and all of us, of course, started talking about the crazy weather. That’s when George said, “And if you can believe it, this morning we saw some idiots out in the bay in a sailboat.”
Wonder who that could have been.
Photo by Mary Ellen
And, finally.
Chilly, but ever so peaceful after yesterday’s roaring wind. Air so pure the LaCloche mountains, on the far side of the North Channel, seem right next door.
Kagawong rowing team
Both boats survived last night’s fury, but the remaining section of the pier got washed over to Lacy’s Landing.
...per as the Environment Canada special weather statement says. That’s a lot of wind.
Stepped outside this morning, after a night of rain, into a sauna. But then the wind started to kick up, slowly building and slowly clocking around the compass from east to south to west.l Just back from ckecking the boats at the marina, and what a wild a crazy scene with spray flying, the docks pitching, and the boats bucking and rolling.
Power out several times today.
Below, a followup on yesterday’s blog comment on Sue’s plum cake.
Ready for the oven
Out of the oven
Ready to eat
Internet intermittent, so that’s all for today.
day. Darkish, with clouds, fog, mist, and rain. Good for interior kinds of things.
Such as Sue’s plum cake. These lovely little plums are in season for only a short while, but when they are...let us eat cake!
...then down and dirty. Septic tank pumped for the first time since installation, and, as it turns out, rather in need of it. Then a load of topsoil, 6 cubic yards (minimum order).
Almost done shoveling and ready for seed. The sunken hollows filled, and possibly enough soil to support grass and not just weeds.
Lovely cool weather. Morning wind fading to evening calm.
Yesterday’s big south wind gave way in the night to a blow from the north.
Bedroom fan replaced about 3am with a blanket. Down to the marina before breakfast to check that the boat was riding okay.
Remains of the sandbox relegated to the dump burn pile.
Powerful south wind today so some high speeds attained on the Windrider.
This well after Irene’s morning departure for home. (And what a quick week it was.)
And then, with the season winding down, the sandbox under deconstruction. Septic pump out happening Wednesday, and following that, a new sandbox, like the Phoenix, will arise from the remnants.
Not much left of the pier.
And a little Windriding in no wind.
And potluck extravaganza.
Drawing down this particularly fine year.
And here is a video shot by Mimi, of about 35 young mergansers learning how to dive for food.
Musical practice for Saturday’s extravaganza.
Among a few other things.
And dinner.
Tonight roasted chicken with rosemary here. Last night Sartu di riso at Pinebox.
Nothing but haute cuisine around here.
Clear and cool, with wollybears
And the quiet has returned—just jays, nuthatches, crickets in the grass and a breeze in the treetops.
The marina closed, only one car at the coffeeshop and two at the falls.
Seemingly endless, but we did eventually arrive and were treated to a tasty light repast at Pinebox.
Did I mention the soup?
What a wonderful thing.
The new York Times ran a story recently ( https://www.nytimes.com/2018/09/06/arts/music/5-minutes-that-will-make-you-love-classical-music.html ) in which musical people were asked to suggest a 5-minute bit of music that would captivate those unfortunates not familiar with classical music, and bring them into the fold.
Wow, is all I can say. While I didn't like all the selections, most blew me away. And then there were the comments, now up over 600. Almost all thanked the Times for such a great idea, such a relief in this time of darkness. And almost all suggested other things to listen to. Which I have been doing for a good part of this day. It's quite a musical education, and I've only just begun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's also helpful to consider what Nietzsche said regarding learning to love music:
"One must learn to love — This is what happens to us in music: First one has to learn to hear a figure and melody at all, to detect and distinguish it, to isolate it and delimit it as a separate life. Then it requires some exertion and good will to tolerate it in spite of its strangeness, to be patient with its appearance and expression, and kindhearted about its oddity. Finally there comes a moment when we are used to it, when we wait for it, when we sense that we should miss it if it were missing; and now it continues to compel and enchant us relentlessly until we have become its humble and enraptured lovers who desire nothing better from the world than it and only it. But that is what happens to us not only in music. That is how we have learned to love all things that we now love. In the end we are always rewarded for our good will, our patience, fairmindedness, and gentleness with what is strange; gradually, it sheds its veil and turns out to be a new and indescribable beauty. That is its thanks for our hospitality. Even those who love themselves will have learned it in this way; for there is no other way. Love, too, has to be learned."
...at the Nies residence in Oconomowoc.
The potted rosemary has spent the summer under the spreading backyard apple tree. Apparently it has found the location congenial, though I think it was too shaded. This particular plant is about four years old, I believe, and, of course, spends the winter indoors. Anyone need a bit of rosemary?
"These are extreme times; these are dangerous times." —Barack Obama at the University of Illinois, 9/7/2018.
With the elections coming up, these are important words, and we will need to vote as if our lives depend on it. They do.
Fox Point Bike Ride...
...while Sue was away taking care of responsibilities.
An excess of moisture.
Whitewater Creek this morning before today's deluge.
Bumper apple crop. Quite a few tomatoes, too.
Shopping trip to Fort after my 1 P.M. haircut treacherous with visibility down to zero and road runnels throwing the car all about. Bark and Rock rivers well out of their banks. Shopping trip necessary, though, because prior to that, with no food in the house, I was dependent on apples and tomatoes for sustenance.
Global warming is rapidly giving us a different world. (I liked the old one.)