Here on the shore is a developing connection between the sea and I…well, truth be told between a boat and I and together we dance with the sea. I am an open water rower, and have a boat that is old yet new to me just a little less than a week now. And so we are still in the getting-to-know one another stage. Each day I get a little more familiar with her peculiarities and she with mine and we are finding how to work best together. Mornings are our best times. This morning, after writing these words, she and I will go out.
Today the seas are not calm and not rough. A middling of fairly disorganized chop, barely any wind, and a glowing golden dawn. And so I will once again guide and be guided as we glide across the surface of the Sound and have adventures, usually involving a visit to Tuxis Island, inhabited by a rookery of gull and cormorants, who, like fog horns, announce the proximity to the island’s granite faced banks and allow me to circumnavigate the place as the adolescents arc over me not sure what I am offering, food or threat. Their chorus imminently useful as we will be remembering I am in a single scull and inconveniently facing backwards, which offers a great vantage over the wide expanse of where I have been, some peripheral skills for the immediate future but alas, little foresight of where I am actually going.
Her name is Buoy Boat, aptly named as the experience of her ride is less racing shell and more of a bobbing along on top of the perky waves, more bronco rider than racing jockey. Despite these quirks of design I am falling in love.
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