Backing the genoa and parking the dory, I walked forward and spent a few minutes looking here and there at connections, and then at the formidable nose of the dory. Imagine where this bow has been? How many docks has she approached? What sorts of weather has beat upon this age old metal dating back to early civilizations, bronze, the bronze age. It evokes something historic and yet something a bit too difficult to reach, yet here is the metal, now, in the present...
And this is the view from above the bronze bow plate:
|The famous dory bow plate, patina bronze, one of the only pieces aboard like it, as the other ones I polish.|
After a quick re-tie, the sheets on the genoa are secured. Once we had departed the launch dock I spotted one of the bitter ends seemed to have crept perilously close to the bind of the bowline while the wind pulled on the genoa. I figured a retie was in order.
The low light illuminates the quiet strength of the knots on the clew:
|A couple of bowlines doing their job. Sunlight from the southwest. Cool temps. Soft winter pastel colors.|
Looking back on the dory, parked in the wind, you could imagine kids jumping off to swim here, or a fishing line trolling behind, soft coolers with snacks and drinks, taking time to enjoy being aboard...
|More pastels, and shadows, teak on white, bronze deck plate, and quiet water laps her hull...|
I think everyone who is infatuated with their little yacht likes to admire its appointments. The Typhoon isn't very sophisticated however. But it is quaint, and memorable, of another time and place, and of other owners who also admired her lines and wondered where she'd been before.
I wrote a short-story on a Cape Dory Typhoon for a doctoral course I have been taking for a couple of years at Wesley Seminary in the subject of narrative discourse. The little dory in my story features the idea of narrative collapse & restoration. I may post that story here in the future. Funny how a little sailboat can inspire such salient themes in us. And yet, everything about restoring and renovating an old classic says so much about the value of important things, and of people too. Everyone can re-emerge, even after long periods of neglect and misuse, there can be a resurgence of goodness.
So many of these boats have seen sunny days and fun, and then periods of neglect and forgotteness, peeling paint, faded teak, green mold on knotted lines, and mildew spots on sails...
And then along comes love and affection!
|Winter's sun, low in the southwest, dancing spots of light, shiny winch, warm teak, blue specs on taut lines...|