No Rain, but then Rum, and then Really Serious Rain Sums up a Roller-coater Week

I was just thinking, in light of the weather decision on 31 July to cancel our Sail to the Sea Buoy. On Sunday August 4  I'll bet I wasn't the only one with a sardonic reaction to the placid weather that appeared over the harbor and approaches.  Tropical Storm Betty was still a day's watch off to the south. I was imagining us on board, already with Ft. Sumter abeam and busy with all hands hauling away halyards getting the mainsail peaked up-under full press, outward bound for the sea buoy. No doubt many of our "guest crew" from Charleston Offshore Racing Association(CORA), who had signed up for their first tall ship sailing experience, and expressed excitement at the opportunity, were just as disappointed. 

 Notwithstanding the weather decision to cancel our planned sail, it was a great day dream for a moment. And, it remains a viable goal for Spirit of South Carolina and her Volunteer Crew for the near future. All the cases for it to happen are still out there. And, I'm maintaining the original SignUp Roster of all the crew, so that all on it will be the first ones notified when this opportunity resurfaces.

So, for Sunday, to assuage the disappointment, I proposed to all participants, a Rum Tasting, on board for that Sunday afternoon. Seven accepted the proposal-four from CORA, Tim Vienneau and his wife, Scott Depung and friend, Carin Bloom, Nick Swarts and Bryan Oliver. Bryan brought aboard a diverse collection of nine rums ranging from "value-priced" to well-aged, silver-to gold-to dark, up to 18 years, representing distilleries from all over the Caribbean, to New England, and of course Charleston. With lotsa munchies scattered around the table as well as water for cleansing palates, hydrating, and rinsing, attendees tried out 1/2 ounce samplings. We compared and contrasted, discovered new ones, redefining our favorites while Carin and Bryan narrated on all topics of origins, economics, distilling secrets, and sordid history, including schooner rum runners. Carin proposed a toast to Black Tot Day, the occasion of the British Royal Navy pounding the tap into the last Barrel signifying the end of rum issued to Sailors. As a finale, Bryan offered up two different rum cocktails, each with their own stories,, one a Bermuda Swizzle from the 1920's, and the Original Rum Runner, six ingredients, four of them alcoholic. In moderation of course. With those in hand, most attendees gathered on deck to enjoy the light breeze, and most welcome temperature of mid '80's on the water. 

 Monday, the 5th, TS Betty, appeared on the southern horizon, as Capt Heath Hackett and a crew of four, along with Bos'un Bryan mustered at 0800 on deck to tie down anything on the dock that could blow or float away, and attack the issue of straying Yokohama's, once again trapped inside the dock pilings, and the schooner's hull, blown by wind and current, pressing against them, allowing no room to float out and re-center. 

Teammate, Jack Frazier relaxes in the headrig, waiting
 for Team mate Brian to climb out with more gaskets.

So the team started first on deck, adding additional gaskets to tighten up the furls on the sails, which were still a bit billowy from the last sail douse.

Heath Hackett (in red foulies) and team
 formulating a Plan A to clear the forward Yokohama
 out of it's pocket on the side of the piling. 

Within the first hour the first band of rain began sprinkling, rapidly building to soaking downpours sending us to sending below anything salvageable from exposure on the dock and closing off hatches. A few of us had foulies on board to throw on. Most just enjoyed(at first) a cooling soaking antidote to the summer's persistent 90 degree temp and 85% humidity.  At the same time Capt Heath attempted to start up the small boat engine prior to launching. A good move, since the engine, likely with water somewhere in the line, refused to kick over.- which sent him out on a search for a replacement "push boat". 

Meanwhile rest of the crew looked at methods to tension up the chain tethering each of the three Yokohama's together. Lariat loops were fashioned to snub around the chain linking the aft Yokohama to it's end piling. Snubbing the loop up on a chain link enabled us to stretch the chain longitudinally, thereby pressuring the Yokohama to float aft, and recenter on it's piling. Now it was waiting for Capt Heath and whatever push boat facsimile he could procure on this now dark gray skies, soaking raining mess. 

Bryan cheerfully waits for Capt Heath's Plan B
 push boat to appear on the horizon, 

Only a half-hour later, he appeared driving towards us around the Cruise terminal dock in a small Center console fisherman. I didn't ask where he got it. We had rigged a long tow rope off the port quarter to send over to him and he and his team mate, Richard He maneuvered close to take the line as Bryan tossed over. 

 Capt Heath, with Richard monitoring the tow cable on the little cleat, and the small fishermen made four attempts from various angles to pull the stern off the dock sufficiently to create sufficient space for the Yokohama blivits to float free of the pilings and rest properly outside of them. Each time, while the stern pulled off sufficiently, the bow countered, swinging into the dock, preventing the most forward Yokohama to clear it's piling. 

Frustrated, and accounting for the risk of damaging the little fisherman's ground tackle gear, Heath returned it to the dock. Meanwhile, on board, crew was discerning a slight expanding of the distance between dock pilings and the schooner's hull. Slightly diminishing wind, and tide transitioning appeared to be creating a time window in which the schooner was allowed to widen it's gap with the dock, sufficient for all the Yokohama's to float free of their pilings. Just as Capt Heath returned, the team had already taken the strain along two lines on the linked Yokohama's  pulling them [northwards] out and away from their pilings then centering on them.  The team rapidly tide off their "tag" lines to a piling to stabilize the Yokohama's in place.  

By now the crew had been working furiously on the dock and on deck, while totally soaked, and constantly wiping the rain out of their eyes. The temperate, cooling effect of the rain, ironically made for a much more temperate working environment, at the expense of soaking us down to, including anything in our pockets. With last of the gear on the dock stowed in the locker or slung under the lashed down dory the team took last look around, and slogged back up the dock to cars and a soggy ride home.