The Mast Rises Again

© Will McLendon / RumBum.com

With a few weekends of work and several hundred dollars invested in Annabel Lee’s rigging, it was time to put the mast back up. But with our trailer still busted, we couldn’t pull her out of the water and do things the normal way. We’d have to try something we’d never tried before – raising the mast with the boat in the water. We’d talked about trying it, wondering if, indeed, it might even be easier than raising the mast with the boat on the trailer, but in the end we had always resorted back to what we knew.

Thankfully, we were able to recruit some help. My sister, Carolyn, and her husband, Mike, joined us one Friday evening down at the marina. And as we messed around, putting everything back into place and making sure none of the stays were tangled and everything was where it was supposed to be, a crowd gathered on the dock. Cocktail hour was officially on at Camachee Cove Marina, and we were the entertainment for the evening. I couldn’t help but be a bit nervous as Will and Mike positioned themselves in the cockpit and I stood on the dock behind the boat, ready to help them lift by pulling on one of the halyards. Carolyn snapped photos as we prepared for action.

When you’re in a marina, there is no such thing as privacy. Everyone knows what’s happening, and you can’t be worried about making a fool of yourself. If you do, you’ll only get nervous and make matters worse. As Carolyn took pictures, people slowly emerged from the cockpits and cabins of their boats and took their places on the dock to watch the show.

With Mike and Will lifting, the mast came up easily. When it came time for me to do my part, there was really very little left to do. They stood on the cabin of the boat, holding it in place, while I climbed aboard and hooked the t-bolt to on the forestay to its place on the bow. That one critical piece, which was now brand new, was the key to putting the mast up and the key to keeping it up, and was what had caused the whole accident in the first place.

We’d lost a lot of time that we could have spent sailing, and I tried to push the thoughts out of my head of what’s going to happen next? Our luck with the boat had been a combination of good and bad – bad luck that the mast came down, good luck that nobody got hurt. Bad luck about all the leaks, good luck that they weren’t caused by anything major. Bad luck that the trailer had fallen apart, good luck that it happened at Camachee Cove where there were people around who could help us.  With all the things that had gone wrong, I was amazed that Will still loved the boat and still felt like it was worth our time to take care of her. My doubts kept creeping back, and I was starting to feel about Annabel Lee like she was the “taker” in a give-and-take relationship. But for now, the mast was up and all was right with the world again.

We all stood back and looked at Annabel Lee, now restored to her status of “sailboat.” It was definitely time for a cocktail.