Get Ready to Get Ready! Spirit's about to be splashed. Then, start counting days to her return.

 This afternoon, I drove down to Thunderbolt shipyard as has been my routine every other week or so, since late March, bringing along Hunter's Sunday New York Times, and Economist, and New Yorker Magazine, just about all that ties him to the world these days.  I drove there for a day's worth of Volunteer Punchlist work. and was also going to bring back the dead aft cabin macerator motor to hand over to Harbor Masters for refurbishing. 

The Maritime Center holds his mail for my pick up, and Jeff, the Dockmaster invariably asks me "If, Spirit is coming back?"  After four months gone, around the Maritime Center, rumors have abounded, in the face of her absence.  I respond in the same way every visit.  Yes, she's coming back her. "No she's not being sold. Yes, there are plans in works for her future here. No I can't give you a return date." The shipyard and contractors seem to drive that, but here's the stuff remaining to be done." ..and the list has consistently gotten smaller.  

I expected to see Spirit of South Carolina in her usual dry berth, this time hopefully with a completely painted bottom, the last phase before splashing her back into the water and floated to a dock for next projects.  It has seemed that contractors appear inconsistently but once every two weeks, to advance a project, Her final coat of bottom paint all around  would be  just one more final step  for launching.

 It was now past dusk. Driving  around the last big storage hanger I noticed the big empty space across the lot where Spirit should've been resting on her railroad cradle, as she has since last March.  Not there,, hmm, confusion.. a hurried gaze all around the dock, and sub-conscious reach-back into my aging degrading memory for some thing missing that might explain this. 

Spirit of South Carolina in her new berth  

But somewhere in the middle of crowded dry-docked hulls, the familiar twin wooden masts of a ball-head rigged (no topmast) schooner rose up over the gaggle of huge fiberglass motor yachts parked around the basin, definitely in a different spot from before - her scaffold-staircase awkwardly lashed to her port side quarter rail.  She had just been moved earlier this afternoon, with no warning to Hunter who was aboard, to a position with her railroad cradle aligned to the  ship-lift platform situated over the water in front of her.  At this point, the only next option was for a caterpillar tractor to push her cradle along the rails out onto the platform where she'd be lowered into the water.

New Paint job and all. Her bowsprit
out over the ship-lift where she'll 
 eventually be lowered back
into the water. Thursday or Friday. 

Wondering what I"d missed, I found Hunter on deck who informed me this whole move had happened with no notice only a few hours before. He had no warning, no time to unlash the top of the scaffolding from the caprail, or climb down and evacuate the ship.  The crew was inexplicably surprised to see staring down at them from up on deck, two stories up; he'd been living aboard these past four months. Their supervisor informed Hunter that they received instructions to prep her for lowering in, based on directions from the dockmaster's office    The Ship's launch could happen in two days, or be  delayed dependent on receipt of funds. 

So Hunter and I were left in wonder at this admittedly pleasant surprise, but also confused.  So many questions;  who would cast us off, who would be on board to handle docklines, run throttles, assuming she could even power up.  

More on this tomorrow as picture starts to focus.