I went to the south side to pick up Art, the "professional" boat guy who was supposed to help me set up the rig. Since I arrived too early, I parked and waited politely until 9 AM, when I was supposed to call and wake him up.
Art picked after a few redials, he said he is passed out on his boat after drinking and smoking until 3 AM in Belmont Harbor. He also said he was going back to sleep. I asked him if he wanted breakfast, but he said no.
I turned around and drove to Belmont, some 50 city blocks.
Once I arrived, I realized I was stuck without any means of getting on my boat parked on the "star" dock in the middle of the port -- Art had the dingy and was asleep.
The Harbor Master office told me that Belmont does not have a tender service, the girl at the desk did not even know what it means. I offered to one of the workers $20 for a ride, but he refused to take it but was nice enough to give me to take me to the boat.
I decided not to wake up Art until 30 minutes before our appointment with the Harbor Master at the crane at 11:00. After knocking on his boat, he finally answered. Later, he asked me to postpone the appointment a little. I did not think that was cool, but there was no harm.
The setting of the rig went pretty well and amazingly quickly. Art was upset with me that I did not have any bigger pliers than the one I usually carry on the sailboat. He did so while drinking another beer.
He called himself a professional (rigger), yet he did not bring any tools.
After setting the sails, we decided to go out for a short sail to see how the boat would do, which was part of the deal. He was supposed to show me the ropes. Konrad, my brother, and Steve, a neighboring boat owner, joined us.
Even before we left the harbor, Art went below to rest. I thought that was cool, but soon, I asked him to come up because the waves were huge because of the Northeast wind that pushed them all the way from Canada (well, almost). Art did not surface but rather passed out on the settee.
We took a real beating in heavy weather. We had too much sail for the wind, and an awfully choppy sea threw us around. Spray was broking on the bow and hit us in the face, which felt awesome.
Finally, we got the mainsail down and sailed on the jib only. Since we went out straight East on the port tack, I wanted to come about and sail back West.
It was supposed to be only a 30-minute sail, but we were out much longer. Well, coming about in heavy seas is difficult; the waves push you right back. Art, in his sleep, told me to gybe, which did not cross my mind since I sail on small boats, and that would definitely capsize a dingy.
To my surprise, the gybe went very smoothly, and it became a little more comfortable. About half a mile from the shore, we tried to start an outboard motor that I borrowed from Art, and it died on me a few times.
Finally, we returned to the harbor on the jib only and with the motor in idle.
The story ended all good, but I realized a few things.
First, do not expect too much of people.
If all that Art doing is drinking, then it is likely that he will get drunk and pass out. He has done it before and did it this time, thanks to Steve, who has been sailing these waters and helped us bring the boat back.
Secondly, I may not have Art on the delivery to North Point Marina, as he probably will repeat the act.
