Adventure 460: The Story of George, The Eagles is Dead-Long Live Frac, 37

Real time finds George doing better every day. He's on a pill remembering streak, his mobility is good, his spirits are high, and we're hopeful he'll be in a good enough groove to let us travel this summer to Little Eden. Hope is good.

Dad and Mom, 1950

On another note, an era is dead. We watched the awesome spectacle of the crane operator lifting her up onto the barge. The operator has been operating this huge "old school" friction crane on the lake for almost forty years. He's good. He made a difficult task look like child's play. In his hands that machine picked the boat up like she was a toy (She was just a toy, you know.) and so easily set her down, keel first in such a way that she leaned gently on her side for the ride down lake to her final resting place. Tomorrow, she'll be crushed up with a giant clam shell crusher. Her remains will be trucked to the land fill, save the keel. She'll be recycled by a foundry in town. We had a good run with her over nearly twenty years. Judy and I figured from the log entries that we were on her every four and one half of the available days during each of the nineteen five month seasons we had her. We had some good times, many fun sails, a few exciting moments, one phantasmagorical moment when the mini-toornado spun us 360 like the giant hand of God playing with us like a kid spinning a top, and course we cared for her, maintained her, worried about her, and enjoyed her. She was a good chapter in our lives. Hopefully, we'll be blessed with more chapters, and to that I say "Long Live Frac!"

We found her like this on March 4. She sank in less than an hour the night before.

 The metal strut that looks here like a hand on a prop shaft was struck perfectly, and in such a way as to knock a six by six hole into the boat,  by a "deadhead" or floating log. The chances are so remote, it was like winning the negative lottery. But fortunately, we found the "Pros from Dover".

 This is Kenny, diver and all-around Mr. Fixit.

 A final glance just for the memories.

Almost as a religious ritual, Leticia and Justin were able to salvage many things of value.

 For example, they took the winches, the wheel, the sails, the ropes,  the mast, and a bunch of other things. She was a good old girl, so it's fitting that she should still be of value.

 This man, Tom,  is an incredibly skilled crane operator.

 Equipment such as this accounts for the cost of the operation.

 Sam, the boss, watches as a job well done is accomplished.

 And there she goes. resting like a baby.

 Mark, my friend and very superior mechanic at the helm.

Among our favorite trips was a sail to Harrison.

And so many other good memories, such as our buddies, the Ulmen's smooching at sunset.

 And of course, nothing was better than "skiing" behind the Eagle.

Adventure 459: The Story of George, The Eagle, 36

George doing a little fixit work

Real  time finds George well this morning. He'd taken his morning pills and was enjoying breakfast when we arrived. I showed him the photos of the Eagle being raised, but I'm not sure how much information he processed. Nonetheless, he looked good.

On our adventures, Judy and I always give thanks for traveling mercies. We're grateful when we're allowed to traverse from Point A to Point B. We're grateful once again. The raising of the Eagle, handled masterfully by Sam and his crew, proceeded to a successful point yesterday. So in this story, Point A was a survey dive; Point B was the staging; Point C was the raising. So far, our blessings have included no extra damage to property, no injuries or deaths, and a successful securing of the boat. Stage D, the next phase, will involve cutting the mast up into pieces right where she lays next to the shore. Stage E will involve moving the boat across open water to a public dock where Sam will use another very expensive piece of equipment to lift the Eagle onto a trailer. Stage F will find the Eagle on the trailer in Sam's boat yard where she will be cut up and thrown into a very large dumpster. The final stage will be writing the check. Hopefully, the insurance will pay the full $25,000. That is yet to be determined, but the boat sank, it appears, when something very hard ( a submersed log) battered the bottom of the boat until it crushed the strut holding the prop shaft. Much like a hammer hitting a nail, the strut was pushed through the bottom of the boat. She sank in under an hour after the puncture. So, we're hoping that's something a guy buys insurance for. At any rate, I'm predicting that the entire operation will cost somewhere around forty thousand. Sam's crew works at a rate of $1300/hr. The have two over full days in so far. Yesterday, the worked twelve hours, which numbs out at $15,600 for the day. They are worth every penny. I couldn't be more happy with their performance. It was astounding to watch them solve the real world problem when the boat twisted and became caught under the dock. I mean stuff happens. The handled it professionally, and as I said, no one died, no one got hurt, nothing more was damaged, so life is good, especially today.

 On the initial raising, the boat twisted and became lodged under the dock.

 Kenny, one of the crew-a diver and an all-around man, is helping to right the boat.

 Jared, the youngest, is a highly trusted member of the crew, even though as low man he does most of the "gofer" work.

 After adjusting the air in the bags, and freeing the boat from the dock, she began to raise.

 At one point, Jake, the head diver, had to add another air bag to tip the boat.

 That's dollar bills flowing into the lake at 35,000 gallons an hour.

 At this point, Sam and Jake are inside the boat determining the cause of the leak.

 The interior was a greasy mess, The oil from the engine had coated everything in a gray slime.

 Even as a still shot, you can see the water flowing through the hole in the hull.

 More muck.

 Near the end of the day, Sam decided the safest spot for boat security would be close to the shore, so we all helped to move her to the beach.

 Sam used the bow of the jet boat to jam the Eagles keel into the rocks.

Without the pumps, the water flowed in, so by the time I left, the Eagle's bow was heading for the bottom. Rest well, old girl. You didn't deserve such an ignominious ending.

Adventure 458: The Story of George, Eagle, 35

George, 1935

Real time finds George managing fairly well. He's had a couple of messy accidents lately, which goes to muscle control. Funny how we adapt. Our babies' "poopy" diapers present us with no issue, and certainly no distasteful after thought. It looks like the same becomes true at the other end of life's spectrum. Maybe the hardest part of this whole "bodily function" thing is that it's a window into my own future. It's time like these that make me realize that my outlook stating that "Life is good, especially today" means that I get to enjoy whatever the future holds. In the meantime, we'll provide George with whatever care he needs.

On another stinky note, the Eagle is scheduled to be raised like Lazarus tomorrow. Hopefully, all will go well. It's a tricky situation. The Lake City Marine crew spent much of today rigging the boat for the raising. Rigging meant that two divers spent about an hour in fifty feet of water so cold it was freezing their air hose, but thankfully, they solved that problem and were able to secure the float bags under the boat. The tricky part comes tomorrow when they have to move the boat from its catty wampus position to an upright position centered in the boat slip. Right now, she is twisted. Her stern is under one of the dock fingers. Her bow has slid forward under the main portion of the dock. Hopefully, winches, ropes, cables, and prayers will do the trick. All I know is that once the laws of physics take over, she's coming to the surface one way or another. We hope without any further damage to her, any damage to the docks, any damage to surrounding boats, and hopefully no lives lost. If all of that comes true, it will be a good day. Either way, we'll adjust. It's only a little stink after all.

 This cleat used to hold the forward dock lines. When she went down, the forces ripped this piece off like a scab.

 The mast is forty feet high from the top of the deck. The boat is lying in 48 feet of water.

 These  air bags will be pumped full of air slowly, but when buoyancy is reached, she will rise.

 Jake and Kenny entering the water. They worked in nearly total darkness for an hour securing the float bags to the bottom of the boat.

 The water temperature was thirty eight at the surface. Here Sam is clearing the ice out of Jake's air tube.

After an hour in frigid water, the divers had to be lifted out of the water mechanically. The cold made their own muscles inoperative.

Adventure 457: The Story of George, Boats, 34

March 11, 2018

Real time finds George unreliably forgetful when it comes to his pills, but otherwise his life seems good. We check twice a day. Today, a good day, found George  remembering his morning pills, up for breakfast, dressed in his Sunday best, alert at lunch, and on time for the bus when it left for the Ham on Regal performance at Ferris High School. All in all, a pretty good day. So good we missed night check, which  will likely mean he'll miss his night pills. We'll see.

As for boats, I meet with the Commodore of the Yacht club tomorrow morning to begin coordinating the move of several boats around me in order that they cannot possibly be damaged if something goes wrong when they raise the Eagle later this week. I also think that the diver will be there to make his assessment dive. At any rate, the process will begin, and hopefully proceed in a satisfactory fashion. But enough of this dreary dripping wetness. Let's remember a magnificent sailing moment. My second boat was called the "Guppy D". It was back in the days I told my Bunny that we'd never have a sail boat that couldn't fit into the garage (Should have kept that promise). The Guppy was a thirteen foot sloop with a fixed keel. She was comfortable, dry, sea-worthy, and quite fun. She was versatile and sturdy as well. Judy and I took her to Upper Priest on one of our wildest and best adventures. Later, when we had our fleet of three sailboats, two quite unable to fit in our garage, the Guppy was being neglected. We ended up gifting her to Angela. I have fond memories. She was a good boat.

 George, circa 1950

George cans literally full of what the labels say.

Good times in the Guppy D!

Our view of Upper Priest Lake. Few places more idyllic.

We had this protected campsite all to ourselves.

My Bunny.

The Guppy.

Adventure 456: The Story of George, Boats, and Grief, 33

March 9, 2018

Real time found George doing well, although he was a bit single minded and just a tad confused. Vina told him that Friday was "Sports" day at Harvard Park, which means if residents wear a clothing item with some reference to sports, they receive "Harvard Bucks" (Monopoly Money). Periodically, they have an auction where they spend these 'bucks" on stuff. It's a good way to keep people interested, and George and Vina are avid buck collectors. Anyway, George thought she meant right then, so when Judy and I arrived for dinner, George was sorting through his closet trying to find something with a sports logo. He finally found a worn out T-shirt that said, "I hate golf; I hate golf; Nice shot; I love golf." But all was good. We ate dinner, played dominoes, and generally enjoyed ourselves.

As much as I've tried to rationalize the loss of the Eagle, it's been winding its way into my psyche. I've decided it's grief, which I know enough about to realize that it's a painful passage (Ooh, that sailing reference hurt). I do hope that because this boat is just a "thing", the grief period over it will be less intense, and hopefully not long lasting. Human grief sure lasts, at least it has for me. Even after thirty years, time can stand still staring at the loss of Annie. These days Anne grief, while rare, comes suddenly, out of the blue as it were, and stands there shuddering like a lost child. The reminders are usually as unwitting as they are sudden, even though I should be more aware. For example, last Christmas we started talking about "prom' pictures, and just like that we were rummaging through the attic. The unintended consequence was  that a gush of Anne memories poured out of the boxes like rain water. Or like the time we watched the movie "Beaches" for family night. I probably should have read the plot summary instead of choosing the movie as a "pig in a poke" ; instead, we were all blubbering like salt foam on surf at the end. So it goes. I know this much about grief. It hurts. It hurts in the present, the past, and the future. It's not a voyage I enjoy. I'll miss the Eagle. I'll be forlorn about the cost. But I'll realize that every sad memory is buffeted by a breath of fair wind that implores me to be grateful, lifts my spirits, and allows me to welcome a new day. So, despite any angst I may feel, I must nonetheless conclude that life is good, especially today.

George, reaching for his sweetie's hand after dominoes.

 Sail away, old friend.

Adventure 455: Boats, 32

March 7, 2018

Real time finds George doing pretty well. He's healthy, active, and back to a modicum of normal life. He's still hanging around with his main squeeze, Vina. His memory is spotty, but we're managing with regular monitoring. So all is pretty good in George's world.

As for us, we've had a bit of excitement. Our sailboat, The Eagle, sank last week in her slip at Panhandle Yacht Club on Coeur 'Alene Lake. It's a sad story, but pales on the tragedy when compared to life threatening disease. for example. So, while unwanted, the boat problem is fixable. All it takes is a little good fortune, and several thousand dollars. She sits in forty feet of water. The diver will make his assessment next week. He'll take video of the entire running rigging to determine if it has been damaged in any way. He'll also attempt to find the breach in the hull. Then, he and his partner will make a plan to raise the Eagle. It's not only expensive, but extremely dangerous. The method is to tie inflatable bags under the hull with straps, sort of like a saddle around a horse. The bags are slowly filled with air, and the boat rises. If the bags stay directly under the boat, she will rise straight up, assuming the guys with the lines around the mast can keep her vertical. One problem when she went down is that her bow slipped forward under the dock. Once she's at the surface, they'll pump the water out of the cabin. Once that occurs, the righting action of the keel will return. At that time, it will also be obvious what caused her to sink in the first place because water should be coming into the boat from the same place. The mostly likely culprit is one of the thru hull fittings froze and burst, which of course the insurance doesn't cover. They will pay $5,000 toward raising her. The job will likely run triple that. After she's stable in the slip, another expensive piece of equipment will be needed - a barge with a large crane. This crew will safely cut the mast from the boat so the boat can then be towed down the Spokane River to where another expensive piece of equipment - another large crane, this one on land. This crane will lift the boat out of the water onto an expensive large specialty trailer which will then transfer the boat to the landfill where another expensive piece of equipment will crunch it up with its powerful jaws. Eventually, the Eagle will suffer an ignominious death, it will likely cost between $30,000-$60,000. Hopefully, it all goes smoothly, no one dies, and in a year it will be a distant memory. So it goes.

 George doing his bridge exercise. He's really improved.

 He's does a little band work, too.

 Here's Joel helping George with his "clam shell" exercise.

 I'm thinking about putting a sign on the the mast that says, "Free for the taking."