Ay, what a night...

[Marlene Anne Sassaman]

Imagine sitting under a full moon with a gentle 7 knot breeze tossling your hair on an otherwise clear night. The blue/black sky has featherlike remnants of clouds just south of the moon. The last fisherman, the same guy who has gone out every night for the past six days, left his slip about an hour ago. This evening he has a friend on board. Across from SPRAY is a new guy to the club who also set out before dusk; no doubt to drift along the coast on this beautifully, peaceful evening.

Wishing I had already changed the oil filter and finished the trampolines so that I, too, could be 'outside' enjoying one of my favorite times to sail, I instead sit on the hard wood/epoxy cockpit bench. After only ten minutes my backside started screaming for a cockpit cushion. Being already cuddled in my gingerbread printed flannel pjs, with my lap top warming my 'lap' I'm too lazy to climb inside to get the boat chair Danny had me fish out of the ICW some years ago.

It was the first year we had our Corsair F28. On an ICW trip back from Daytona Danny was at the helm. Sammy, his black and white  cute little pup, and I were daydreaming on the forward tramp. Suddenly, the boat spun around doing a 180 degree turn as Danny bellowed from the helm, "Get the boat hook, hurry."  "Uh, what" I shrieked as I scurried to my feet and Sammy ran into the cabin. With Danny manning the boom and sail, I grabbed the boat hook while surveying the water wondering what the heck the commotion was about.

"There," he said in a more calming voice. "look over your left shoulder on the port side, grab it, grab it." Having no idea what the black bobbing object was I twisted and turned the boat hook every which way. Finally I threw the hook onto the rear port trampoline and fell onto my belly with my arms outstretched over the side. By this time, Danny turned the boat a full 360 degree in a smooth controlled manner such that you couldn't even hear the boom slide over during the jibe.

Still not sure of what the heck this slimy feeling box like water logged object was, I dutifully managed to get hold of it enough to drag it on board. "Ewwwwww," I repeated for several minutes. This thing was covered with slime. Green, brown, yukky, slippery slime. Having had enough of this, I set it down and walked to the stern, assertively took the tiller and commanded the captain to take care of his 'had to have sea yuk.'

Well, that was about 5 years ago. Today, his yuk has proven to be a most comfortable bosun's chair. It folds in half for easy storage, is light enough to move about the cockpit, and gives me just enough height to see over the helm station. What a treat from my sweet; after alll we always promised to give each other a soft place to land. So why am I being such a hard _ _ _. Duh, I think I'll go below and set myself up to be a bit closer to heaven on this moonlit night, as I recall the very same full moon that rose above the sea some 34 and a half years ago when we vowed to love and honor each other til death due us part. Indeed, my love and honor have continued as they will always!