CruiseNews #11
Date:  9/6/99
Port of Call:  Southwest Harbor, Maine
Subject:  Fish Out Of Water

Last Monday, after spending a few days on a mooring in Southwest Harbor, we started the engine, slipped the mooring line, and motored the short distance to the Travelift slipway at the Hinckley Company.  We had decided, because of the difficulty and expense of obtaining replacement parts for our slowly deteriorating BMW D-35 engine, to take the big step of replacing the engine.  We chose The Hinckley Company, which is the builder of arguably the finest sailing yachts in the world, to perform the engine replacement for a number of reasons:  for their reputation; for their experienced staff, not just of mechanics, but also carpenters, painters, and other experts whose ministrations are often called for in a project of this magnitude; for their location in Southwest Harbor, Maine in close proximity to the Island House, our favorite Bed and Breakfast (we needed a place to stay while the work is being done);  and because our attempts to get other boatyards to provide us with written estimates were largely unsuccessful and wholly disheartening.

So with a strong breeze blowing out of the north to northeast, we put the engine in neutral and "sailed" the last 100 yards or so towards the shoreline, powered only by our momentum and the breeze on Sovereign's mast and rigging.  Moving as slowly as possible, and considering that we had no "brakes" to slow our progress, we maneuvered into the slipway and over the waiting slings of the Travelift.  Charlie Bradford, the Travelift operator at Hinckley (and coincidentally the husband of Ann Bradford who runs the Island House, and who are both very dear friends of ours), expertly controlled the slings to not only stop our forward and sideways motion, but to place the boat in the optimum position for lifting the boat. Within minutes Charlie and his crew had lifted Sovereign from the water, carried her up the hill in the Travelift, and expertly blocked her outside the mechanic's building.  It was the most trouble-free lift we have had in the 12 years we have owned Sovereign.

Sovereign being lifted out of the water
Upon arriving at our new position on the gravel of the boatyard, it was a pleasant surprise to find that, with nothing more than a handshake, Hinckley had obtained our new engine, issued work orders to the mechanics, and gone about their business.  By the next morning the interior and exterior of the boat had been padded and protected inside and out against damage from errant tools and dirty feet, and the old engine was in the process of being dismantled. In one of those strange coincidences, we found out that the foreman of the mechanic shop at Hinckley responsible for replacing the engine was the same one who installed the engine at Southwest Boat when Sovereign was originally built, and the carpenter who removed some of the interior to make access easier for the mechanics was the same one who had built the original cabinetry!  That evening, we looked down at our old engine on the floor of the mechanics shop, marveling at all the corroded parts whose need for eventual replacement prompted this mechanical preemption in the first place.

Now, down below and even on the deck, there is a strange feeling to the boat.  It is apparent that something has changed.  Sovereign's cockpit, companionway, and interior are covered with cardboard, plywood, and rubberized tape, and the huge space under the galley counter where our engine used to be gapes cavernously.  But it is not these changes wrought by the boatyard that makes Sovereign seem strange.  It is something much less obvious, something almost imperceptible.  Sovereign doesn't move that tiniest fraction of an inch under our tread as we walk around.  When we look up at the sky to gauge the movement of the clouds against the visage of the top of the mast, which on a floating boat is a "two steps forward, one step back" kind of movement, the clouds unaccustomedly stream by unimpeded.  I literally almost fall over several times; I look up at the clouds and the mast and I unconsciously lean back as I watch their whiteness move one way past the mast, expecting the gentle motion of the boat to push me and the clouds back the other way, as I have become accustomed for it to do.  When the expected little push doesn't come, my brain registers the tiniest wave of confusion, and only a quick step backward keeps me from toppling over.


Island House Bed and Breakfast
At night we now sleep in a comfortable double bed, which is a huge expanse of mattress compared to our small Pullman berth.  We now luxuriate in hot running water for our showers instead of dreading the blast of cold water that occurs on the odd occasion when we run through the supply in our two-and-a-half gallon hot water tank.  Cathy has even been able to take bubble baths! Our breakfasts are gourmet delights.  Our dinners are in restaurants. There are no dishes to wash.  But as much as we are enjoying our stay ashore with luxuries that are unattainable on the boat, we will also be glad when Sovereign goes back in the water.  Despite the attractions of shore life, after nearly ten years of living aboard a boat, there is something a little odd, almost unsettling about being on land...It just doesn't move right!

Smooth sailing,

Jim and Cathy