Another strange boat dream

QUITE A LOT OF MY DREAMS involve boats, almost as many as involve beer and/or dancing girls. And so it was the other night when I dreamed I was an interested spectator at a small boatyard.

They had a marine railway for hauling boats out of the water for bottom-painting and repairs, and they were just re-launching a full-keel sailboat of about 25 feet.

She slid slowly down the rails, held upright by a wooden cradle, until she reached the water.  Two workmen were aboard to release her from the cradle when she floated free, one in the cockpit and one on the foredeck. But she didn’t float free.  Still tied to the cradle, she started to disappear as the railway extended into deeper water.

The workmen on board started shouting to the man at the head of the slipway, who sat in a small shed with his hands on levers.  But it seemed he couldn’t hear them, or didn’t want to obey their requests to haul the boat back up the inclined railway.

The men on board jumped into the water and swam ashore as the boat finally disappeared under water, blowing huge bubbles of air from the closed companionway hatch and the Dorade box up forward.

Next thing, two scuba divers appeared and swam out to the mast, which was the only thing still sticking out of the water. They dived and obviously cut the boat free from the launching cradle to which she had been tied.

She suddenly popped up to the surface at high speed and flew into the air some 20 or 30 feet, or so it seemed in my dream, and came down stern first. The cockpit filled with water, which rushed below and filled the cabin. This time, she sank like a brick.

The man in the shed said: “Sorry about that. I was texting. Let’s start over and try again.” But he got down and started to run when the scuba divers came out of the water with their knives drawn.

My dream ended there, so I don’t know what happened to the men or the boat, but I can’t help wondering if there is a message here, or possibly a warning.  My wife says I’d better have my tea leaves read, just in case. But I’m not keen on that. I’ll see if I can find someone who reads beer suds. That might make more sense.

Today’s Thought

Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives.

— Dr. William C. Dement, Newsweek, 30 Nov 59

Tailpiece

After years of toil and research, Eli Whitney emerged from his workshop one night with great news.

“I’ve just invented a cotton gin,” he declared proudly.

“Big deal,” snorted his wife. “So who needs a fluffy martini?”  

A sailor's favorite dream

ONE OF THE THINGS sailors like to do is day-dream. Mostly they dream about beer and women, but sometimes they dream about boats, specifically the boats they’d like to have built for themselves if they won the jackpot.

I was reading about one such boat the other day, an 80-foot, 50-ton, gaff ketch. She was designed by Edson B. Schock in 1941, in response to a request (presumably from someone who’d just won the jackpot) for the design of a yacht suitable for a cruise around the world.

Nobody in those days thought a 20- or 30-footer was suitable for crossing oceans, so Mr. Schock suggested an auxiliary ketch of rather larger dimensions, and he also argued for a gaff ketch rig because, as he pointed out, most of the trip from New York, through the Panama Canal, and south and west across the Pacific would be largely off the wind.

This boat was meant to accommodate the owner and two guests in some high degree of comfort. “Your party of three should require two staterooms, one double and one single,” said Mr. Schock, “and in addition it would be advisable to have an extra stateroom for your captain and also radio officer, should you consider it necessary to carry one.”

He also estimated that the crew’s quarters should have accommodations for three.

“The sail area would be about 2,800 square feet in the working sails, and the auxiliary power a 100-hp diesel engine with 650 gallons of fuel oil and 1,200 gallons of water.

“The lighting would be by DC current from a diesel generator and batteries which would also supply current for an electric refrigerator and an anchor windlass.

“In the design of the hull it would be advantageous to keep the displacement rather light in order that she would ride easily and lift to the seas, thereby keeping her out of the class of heavy displacement yachts which are frequently referred to as half-tide rocks when they are so heavy that they do not rise readily in a head sea.

“The construction, if of wood, would consist of double-sawn frames with either yellow pine or Douglas fir planking below water, and teak above with teak decks and all upper works of teak.

 “A yacht of this type and size . . . would make ample room for all and not be too cramped for such an extended cruise,” Mr. Schock concluded. “She would prove very seaworthy under all conditions.”

Well, I must say that all this talk about staterooms makes this a very attractive design, at least to anyone who has won the jackpot, but I find it a little worrying that Mr. Shock makes no mention of the extra accommodation needed for the stewards who would be running back and forth with the gin-and-tonics, and neither does he provide room for even a modestly-sized troupe of dancing girls. What the heck, if you’ve truly won the jackpot, you might as well go the whole hog, don’tcha think?

Today’s Thought

Some people think luxury is the opposite of poverty. It isn’t. It is the opposite of vulgarity.

— Gabrielle (“Coco”) Chanel, Ladies’ Home Journal, Sep 56

Tailpiece

“Are you still breeding birds?”

“Yeah. I just crossed a homing pigeon with a parrot.”

 “What for?”

“If the pigeon gets lost it can ask the way home.”

(Drop by every Monday, Wednesday, Friday for a new Mainly about Boats column.)

Dreams I don’t remember

LIKE MOST COLUMNISTS, I am involved in a perpetual search for subject matter. I rarely know, from day to day, what I’m going to write about next. Some of my best ideas come in dreams, but the frustrating thing is that I very rarely can remember my dreams.

While I’m having my dreams, I think to myself what a marvelous idea this is. How my readers are going to love this one. It’s funny, it’s smart, it’s full of useful tips — this is a columnist’s dream column. And then, poof! it disappears as soon as I wake up. Can’t remember a darned thing about it, except that it was astoundingly good.

I once had the idea of keeping a notebook and pen on my bedside table so I could wake up and write down the details of my dream while it was still fresh in my mind. The results were startling. The wonderfully creative thoughts that had passed through my sleeping mind were absolute driveling gibberish when examined next morning in the stark light of day. Nothing made any sense.

Once or twice, toward dawn, I have awakened so gradually that my waking mind was still attached to my sleeping mind, and there was a partial transfer of creative thought that actually made sense. I can’t say either of those dreams was spectacularly helpful in writing a column, but at least they weren’t gibberish.

My intuition tells me that I dream about boats a lot. I’m sure I design brilliant boats and sail them perfectly. I bet I win lots of races and cruise to exotic places and wear smart yacht club blazers and attract the attention and adoration of lovely women wherever I go.

And, talking about women, I don’t know for sure, because I never can remember, but I expect I dream about women just as often as boats. Most men do, I’m told. Nice women, of course, modest, wholesome women equipped with the highest moral standards, clever, interesting women known as much for their brains and character as their looks.

Admittedly, a bad woman may have crept into my dreams now and then. Some kind of wicked hussy. I have no way to confirm or deny it and I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to. But if that happened, it’s not my fault. I plead innocent. I’m not in charge of my dreams and I don’t know who is. Furthermore, I am not responsible for my actions in my dreams. Actually I don’t even know what bad women do. Well, to tell the truth, maybe I do have a vague idea of what they do. But I’m not sure, because if they did it, I’ll never know what it was. I’m just not capable of remembering it.

Today’s Thought
Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives.
— Dr. William C. Dement

Boaters’ Rules of Thumb, #128
Distance from lights. Never try to judge your distance from a single point of light at sea at night. It provides no clue by which our perceptions can judge its size and distance with any accuracy. In most cases, when the light becomes visibly nearer, you are in immediate danger of running into it.

Tailpiece
“Who was that girl I seen you out with last night?”
“You mean ‘I saw.’”
“Oh, right. Who was that eyesore I seen you out with last night?”

(Drop by every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, for a new Mainly about Boats column.)