A New Old Watch. 9th in the STOPWATCH Series - Cover

A New Old Watch. 9th in the STOPWATCH Series

Copyright© 2013 by Old Man with a Pen

Chapter 20

Now the work began. You can snap a hull in half tightening the rigging. But you can hog a hull leaving it too loose. Standing rigging keeps the mast from falling forward or back or sideways ... or any other angle you can think of.

Aluminum has a 'period of stress' that limits it's time of use. Aluminum has just so many flexes in it and you don't know then you've used it up. One bend too many and it breaks. There are aluminum hulled boats that were still good after forty years that sunk at forty years and a minute. Then there are hulls that are still going after sixty. The metal doesn't show it's fatigue to the naked eye.

While they were in the lift bay adjustments were made that were 'good enough' to move the boat ... now came the fine art of tuning. At sea there would be more adjustments. Now they were trying to make sure the mast was perpendicular in all it's planes.

David jumped off the deck to the dock and pitched his two blue seabags on to the boat and left. There were boats to haul and a new lift operator to teach. Outside storage was cheaper but it took time to winterize a boat and David knew all the tricks. He was leaving Pentwater for the first time since the Navy.

Vietnam was traumatic in more ways than one. He had commanded a hydrofoil on the Mekong ... until the VC got smart and stretched a chain that took out the foils ... David got them back to base but every man aboard was wounded ... David more than once. He received his discharge, Navy Cross, Silver Star, Bronze Star and Purple Heart on the same day. Then they took back everything except the Hearts. Sure the awards and medals were in his records ... but his records were sealed.

The action on the Mekong was the excuse for the hearts ... the boat was not in a place they weren't supposed to be, not doing things they weren't supposed to do and didn't have personnel that weren't supposed to be where they weren't.

For the past ten or fifteen years, the comment most often heard from David's mouth was, "You might think that, but I couldn't possibly say." That was a saying he picked up 'Down Under' while recovering from wounds received during a different action that didn't happen ... in a country he wasn't in ... doing things he didn't do ... more than once.

The Navy scrapped the boat. Iy looked a whole hell of a lot like ones to those B-17's you read about in the histories of the Air War in Europe. Shot up bad enough to land ... off load the crew and groan and collapse.

While David was 'picking' 'em up and setting' 'em down' at the Mill, a whole different crew was stocking paper products and 'feminine hygiene' supplies until hell wouldn't have it.

Andrea said, "I refuse to wipe my ass with my fingers!"

"You can't not use the head in American waters ... make sure your holding tank gets pumped every chance you get." She heard that multiples of times. On the lakes you can't even dump your grey water tank.

Canned goods by the ton but only enough fresh to get between ports. National Geographic send monogramed shorts, tee shirts, foul weather gear and nifty going ashore wear. Almost but not quite uniforms.

They did make the deadline. By three in the afternoon the boat motored out the channel and set sail for Ludington.

Ludington is only 20 miles or so up the coast (up being North and down being South.) So we made it before dark. David took the crew to Bortell's Fisheries and were the last people in the door. They cleaned them out of leftovers. Bortell's Fisheries has the very best smoked fish and beef ... the entire crew was ecstatic about the food and everyone ate until the 'pop' zone.

That's when the rigging crew dropped the other shoe.

"We're not done. We need to stay at least to Portage Lake and maybe even Frankfort."

"How come?"

"You made a big difference changing the foot. Most of us were on the rescue crew when we brought this beast into Pentwater ... and this is a whole different boat. It's faster, it steers easier, the sail is more of a wing. Let us tweak it ... I guarantee you'll like it. Besides ... we want to go to the races."

So David had a crew at least to Onekama on Portage Lake.

David moved the mast step back a little more but the riggers were hollering..."Move it back! Move it back ... that's awful." So he tried five inches instead of six. One inch brought the bow down with a bang ... He was cranking back the inch before anyone had a chance to yell.

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