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Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details. When sitting abaft always look for a good place to yaw by J. G. Fabiano When I moved to York, Maine about 29 years ago, I believed it was one of the best moves of my life. I knew I would not make as much money as I could make back in Massachusetts but the quality of life York offered, and the chance to raise a family here, were irresistible. The one thing I did not want to do after I moved here was to buy a boat. This, apparently, marks me as some kind of eccentric because, even though I live well inland from the ocean, I am now surrounded by boats.It seems that every one of my neighbors owns a boat or has someone very close to them who owns a boat. Looking out my window all I can see is boats and trailers parked in their driveways or someplace else on their property. Those who don’t have their boats in their yards have them tied up at some mooring or slip that costs slightly less than their house. This never bothered me until my neighbors decided I should get out on the ocean where they thought I belonged. It seems sitting on a dilapidated old beach chair in the shallows, which is how I like to spend most of my summer days, didn’t count. For a long time I was real good at making up excuses why I couldn’t join them on their boat excursions out onto the ocean. Eventually, I sensed a certain disdain from my neighbors, as if there had to be something wrong with me because I wouldn’t get off the land and onto the water when offered the chance. What none of them understood was that on land, I had some idea what to do. On the water I was totally lost, but, after months of them asking me I thought it polite to go out at least once. Hopefully, after I had broken a few things and vomited over everything they would never ask me again. The first thing I noticed when I stepped foot on any boat was the language changed immediately from English to nautical. I assume this is what their language is called; all I know is that I don’t have a clue as to what most of the terms mean. For example, as soon as I set foot on my neighbor’s boat he told me to sit abaft. Nobody has ever told me sit abaft before and I have no idea what it means. He also told me to stow my gear aft. I wondered if he meant aft of abaft or abaft of aft, or whether I should stow my gear aft before or after sitting abaft. Since my gear consisted of a cooler filled with beer I set it down with the other coolers then took my place on a little seat at the back of the boat. No sooner had I sat down when my neighbor, and the captain of the boat, asked me to see if the anchor was aweigh. I leaned over the side, looked at the anchor dripping water from the front end of the boat, and asked him how far away it should be. Just make sure it’s aweigh, he said. So, I went up front, unhooked the anchor and threw it as far as I could, which wasn’t very far at all because it was much heavier than it looked. Anchor away, I called back to him, feeling distinctly nautical, then went and sat down again beside the beer coolers. He then told me he was going to the bow to make sure the bridle was secure. Bridle? I said, and for some reason a picture of Seabiscuit came into my head. Yes, he said. Between the brightwork and the bulkhead."Aye! Aye! Skipper," I said joining in the nautical spirit of things. "I’ll jettison the galley and swab the crow’s nest." We were finally ready to cast off with the chafing gear protecting the bright-work and all clove- hitches released. There were four other people on the boat, which made for five who knew what they were talking about. I sat with a dazed expression on my face as everyone around me engaged in a fluid conversation that might as well have been Martian for all I knew. At one point the captain asked one of his mates to make sure the boat was clear of the dolphin. I had no idea dolphins came this far north and I immediately looked over the side to see if I could catch a glimpse of Flipper. At which point one of the boat people on board explained that a dolphin was a group of piles driven close together and bound with wire cables into a single structure. Of course, I nodded, wondering how long my boat ride through hell would last when we hadn’t even left the dock yet. The captain then asked if any equipment was fouled and I looked away, hoping he didn’t mean me because I had skipped my shower this particular morning. Recognizing my confusion the captain told me to relax and just enjoy what was going on over the gunwale. Which I would have been happy to do but when I looked around I couldn’t see any kind of whale anywhere. He also advised me to be careful of the leeway and I said no problem; all they had to do was let me know when Lee wanted to get past. Whoever Lee was! We then pulled away from the dock and worked our way down river towards the open ocean, which struck me as a bit rash given that once you were out on the ocean there was an awful lot of it and, it seemed to me, an awful lot that could go wrong. I had seen The Perfect Storm and the image of that fishing trawler climbing a wave the size of Mount Everest still brought me out in a cold sweat. It didn’t help that right before we hit the open water the captain asked one of my other neighbors to check the screw. I fought a surge of panic at the thought that there was only one big screw to hold the boat together, but somehow managed to maintain a dignified silence. Imagine my relief when my neighbor announced that the screw was fine. As we rode into open water the captain began taking soundings. I knew he was doing this because he kept telling me he was taking soundings. Somehow he was under the impression that this exciting bit of information might give me the boating bug and encourage me to buy a boat of my own. But, try as I might, I couldn’t get how much fun there was to dropping a line in the water when you weren’t even trying to catch fish.We were finally underway to the Isle of Shoals and it was time for the best part of our adventure; the exhilarating tang of fresh spray on the face as beer caps opened all around. As I sat in the sun with a cold beer in my hand, I had to admit that boating had its moments. The captain then assured everyone that he wasn’t worried about us having to yaw because he was in total control of the tiller. I told him it was still early but if I felt the need to yaw on the return trip I would be sure to do it over the side! THE END
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