June 6, 2006
I think that my trio, “Elegy” is an appropriate choice to accompany today’s post.
No, this is not my sailboat.
This is… was… Lollipop.
As readers have noted on occasion in this blog, I had wondered for many months just who belonged to this little sailboat that had been left to fend for its spot not too far from shore throughout a challenging winter.
I met him today, finally attaching a face and a name to sailor and vessel.
It wasn’t a dramatic storm that pulled her from her mooring a few hours before this photo was taken, but simply a change in the swell and wind direction. Most of us knew this was going to happen at some point, but had assumed that it would have occured during heavy weather, not a balmy June evening with a few gusts.
I was with friends for a late morning stroll at low tide, and turned the last curve down to the sand that brought this sad sight into view. Three men were diligently hauling everything they could get from the vessel onto a couple of pickup trucks on the bluff above. I smiled at the grizzled fellow in the red shirt who looked the most resolute, and offerred my condolences. We chatted quietly for a couple of minutes, and I pointed to where I live in case he needed an extra hand when high tide and Baywatch came to try to coax his baby back to the sea at the end of the afternoon. We later found out that this was not to be; although her hull was intact, Lollipop’s keel was badly damaged and her sailing days were over.
Neither beautiful nor well kept, she had become a fixture on our horizon this year; I will miss her silhouette against the next sunset.
Perhaps she will miss my ever-wondering gaze.