an infrequent repository of mostly new stuff
Sunrise at Freeport Landing
Dawn is very noisy. There’s a rooster. A rooster very near, like next to my head. The sun is barely up, and he is hard at work. Also, something else making a racket I can’t quite place. A sheep? No sleeping through it, rise and shine.
Lightning #2833 with the boom tent
Mike’s Melonseed “Pepita”
“Don’t wait for me.”
“Where are you?”
“Just pulling out of the driveway. Of course. Still a lot of things to fix.”
“Oh. OK, well, call when you get here. Not sure where we’ll stop, but we’ll be back sometime tomorrow.”
Two hours later, Freeport Landing looks deserted. The sun is low, throwing long shadows across the water. A row of empty trailers lined up near the ramp. One lone boat there. Hmm, maybe someone went along as crew and left their boat. And Mike’s Melonseed is anchored off the beach. Not a soul in sight, though. Sometimes people double up for company or to lend an extra hand.
Morning row in a borrowed boat. Going for coffee.
October 2007
Lightning #2833 sees another Spring
Been waiting for this a long time. Easter weekend was grey and chilly, but not enough to stop me from getting Lightning #2833 in the water for the first time. Redbuds are blooming, a startling purple popping out in the still bare woods, a pale green haze of new growth is just starting to show low on the hillsides when the evening light is just right. Seems fitting this old boat should be reborn now.
On this first trip we weren’t getting too ambitious. Just wanted to get her in the water, test the centerboard raising apparatus, and cruise around a bit with the trolling motor. So I spent a few hours on Saturday checking things over again, adding registration numbers, adjusting the improvised motor mount, etc.. That left only a couple of hours of daylight, but that was enough.
Little Old Man
This is from the first half of the day. It was so quiet there was virtually no sound to record, so I’ve added music added under most of it.
Kevin M. in his Marsh Cat little t
A light breeze, little more than a breath, carries us off the beach and out into the river. A few hug the shore, others tack over and out into open water, looking for clear air.
Lunch break on a beach
Inside a broad cove there’s a sand beach, out of the wind beneath a bluff. Cypress knees serve well for docking cleats.