After sailing at
Pymatuning in late September and having such a perfect weekend I thought
I might be pushing my luck by hoping for another late season boating weekend.
Well, Mother Nature must have taken pity on my soul for the crap she had
dished out earlier in the season because we had a textbook weekend for
camp cruising. Joe Horvath my sailing guru and mentor met me at my home
in Parma just after lunch on Friday as I was just finishing loading the
boat for the weekend. We loaded Joe’s gear and hit the road for
the 2 ½ hour trip to southern Ohio. Our destination was Seneca
Reservoir. For more information on the lake you can check it out at http://www.mwcdlakes.com/seneca.htm
. We were to meet Scott Widmier and any others from CABBS or the BYYB
that were hearty enough to join us.
We arrived at the launch facilities to find the ramps and even the approach
to the ramps well under water. We spoke with a local fisherman, who was
on the scene, about the flood conditions. He informed us that the recent
double whammy of hurricanes in the south had dumped more rain into the
area than the reservoir and the local rivers that it protects could handle.
He said that just days before the National Guard and FEMA had left the
disaster area. It was apparent the water level had been much higher and
had actually engulfed a large portion of the parking lot, which inclined
at a rather steep pitch away from the reservoir. The fisherman was off
to check the other local ramps as he was not comfortable launching from
the washed out ramps. By this time Scott showed up with his Pocket Cruisers
and we discussed other options which including heading back to the north
and sailing one of the less desirable lakes like Salt Folk or Atwood.
The
three of us decided to check out the other smaller ramps at the marina
and campgrounds on other parts of the lake. It quickly became apparent
that the small ramps were not usable due to the fact that they were flooded
up to the flat access roads that service the inclined portion of the ramp.
It is impossible to launch when the water level does not drop off radically
enough to float the boat off the trailer before the truck has four wheels
in the water and the tail pipe is blowing bubbles. Scott never being the
one to give up dawned his best Speedo, ok that might give folks a nightmare,
his swim trunks and waded out into the frigid water with a telescoping
boat hook to feel out the ramp, the stairs and the drop offs between the
three ramps at the main launch facility. Never being one to miss an opportunity
to go swimming I did the same on the opposite side of the ramp. Like gargoyles
mounted of stone columns Scott and I perched on top of the steps at either
side of one of the ramps while Joe the oldest, wisest and driest of us
backed the trailer in between Scott and I. There was just enough water,
incline and proper placement of weight in the boat to get her off the
trailer and ready for our weekend. Scott’s boat being smaller and
riding on a lower trailer was much easier to launch. One obstacle at the
ramp was the cradle from a larger sailboat that came off of its trailer
and was submerged on the far ramp. The walkway to the courtesy dock was
under about three feet of water.
Wow,
that being said the rest of the weekend was the best sailing weekend I
have had up to date. The three of us were at Seneca last year in earlier
summer and had camped in a cove on a small island not to far from the
launch area. We decided to make this our home base for this weekend and
headed for the island to prepare dinner and get ready for the evening.
I had just completed the cabin of the boat and my galley prior to our
trip and was excited to have a sink with running water and a galley stove
that can be used in the cabin or carried out into the cockpit. Joe and
I are a perfect pair for camp cruising I love to dirty dishes and Joe
loves to do dishes. Not to mention we are both short in stature leaving
plenty of room for gear in the cabin when turning in for the night. Joe
claims that my snoring helps keep him from being home sick when we go
on these over night trips, I don’t believe for a minute that Mary
snores like a drunken sailor. Joe will be the first to tell you that he
is a victim to high tech gadgets, take his watch for instance: when we
camped at Pymatuning in July Joe’s new watch somehow got set for
a 4 am wake up alarm. Now it is early October and at 4 am instead of sleeping
Joe and I are laughing at Joe trying to turnoff the alarm on his watch,
I am not sure but that damned thing is still probably beeping every morning
at 4 am in Joe’s night table.
When we arrived at the cove the sandy beach at the foot of the knoll that
runs the perimeter of the protected cove was no where to be seen, actually
the knoll was no more than a flat area of the island that didn’t
happen to be underwater. The steps leading from the beach to the top of
the knoll did make a perfect place to tie off and climb off of the bow
of the boats. We prepared dinner in the cockpit of Rudunyet and ate in
our respective cockpits with the boats rafted together. After diner and
clean up we retired to the high spot on the island that looks over the
lake where we could see the marina and campgrounds on the far shore. Scott
always brings a couple of paraffin starter logs and we rib him because
they are fake and you can not roast marshmallows over them. But let it
be known that I will never make fun of these logs again. They are clean,
compact and leave almost no waste to clean up the next morning. It was
cool the two nights that we were out and the starter logs gave off just
enough heat and light to be enjoyable.
After sleeping on the boats we woke Saturday morning to heavy fog and
cool temperatures. After a light breakfast and trip to the marina to borrow
the facilities we set out for a day of sailing. The fog burned off and
we had a fair day with plenty of wind. Seneca is not a lake for lazy sailing.
The lake is narrow and changes direction here and there, the shore line
tends to wander a bit and creates many coves and peninsulas. The wind
tends to be effected by the changing shore line and can be confusing by
its dramatic changes in direction and speed. I was amazed by how close
to the wind Scott can sail in his heavily modified Pocket Cruiser. At
times it appeared as he was sailing directly up wind. At first I just
thought it was me but on Sunday when there were several other sailboats
on the lake of all makes and sizes it looked as if all the other boats
were playing follow the leader tacking back and forth across the lake
beating to windward while Scott shot strait up the center of the lake.
Scott made light of the fact that he enjoyed not having to watch my transom
pulling away from him for a change. The Vacationer is a very fast boat
and will out run the 
PC
easily on points off the wind, but up into the wind we were eating Scott’s
wake all day.
We broke for lunch in a small cove and spread out in our cockpits to enjoy
the warm fall afternoon sun and brilliant colors in the trees. After a
short nap we sailed for a couple of hours more and returned to our private
island for a repeat of the activities from the evening before. Joe and
I returned to the island cove while Scott was out checking on another
camping location across the lake. We were on a reach and had to pass the
island tack around and enter the cove on the opposite reach, we figured
that once we hit the lee of the cove we would stall, drift to shore and
drop the sails. Well it certainly looked good on paper, we came about
and headed into the cove but instead of stalling we took on a turbo burst
of speed. Joe shouted turn her back out but the cove is only as wide as
a couple of Vacationer lengths, turn where I thinks to myself. As we both
braced for the crash I watched my life pass before my eyes and since Joe’s
version is longer I caught the last 20 years of his too. But instead of
a teeth jarring collision, the keel gently touched bottom on the sandy
and flooded beach where we proceeded to drift slow to a stop with the
stem kissing the shore right next to the steps where we disembarked the
night before. Then the sails went limp. Keep in mind this all happened
in about a millisecond, just as Joe and I took our first breath in several
seconds a large production sailboat with two couples aboard came around
the edge of the Island, it appears they had been tailing us to see the
boat and commented on her beautiful lines, and on our exceptional seamanship,
little did they know I needed to change my shorts.
Saturday
night was a repeat of Friday night, dinner, coffee and hot chocolate around
the wax fire and then off to bed. In the morning after our daily trip
to the marina Joe boarded Scott’s PC and I headed out solo for a
few hours. Joe had the opportunity to sail the PC all morning. After a
while we preformed an on the water crew transfer and Scott joined me on
the Vacationer where he had the opportunity to sail my boat and take pictures
of his own boat. By the time we broke for lunch the temperature had started
to drop and the winds began to pickup. Scott and I anchored in a cove
for lunch and waited for Joe to arrive. When Joe caught up with us he
was rather chilled and had started dawning some of Scott’s wardrobe.
After lunch we tied in a reef and headed to the ramps for retrieval. When
we turned the bend to the docks we caught sight of Don Bailey who came
down for the day but decided against launching at the questionable ramps.
The boats were quickly loaded and secured for the ride home. What a great
way to end the boating season; good friends, fair weather and tons of
sailing. I shouldn’t say the end of the season as I have been out
kayaking a couple of times since this and am planning to head out tomorrow
with my daughters and Joe for an afternoon of paddling at Ladue Reservoir
even though it is the seventh of November.
Today is Monday and I just finished editing this article. Yesterday we
had temperatures in the 60’s with clear skies and light to moderate
winds. Instead of early November it felt more like spring. We had a great
time paddling and having lunch on the lake. The high point of the day
was when a full grown bald eagle swooped in from the horizon and flew
within 20 feet of us, you can not respect the majesty of one of these
birds until you have seen one gliding over head almost in reach.
Back Yard Yacht Builders
A non-commercial association of amateur boat-builder enthusiasts.
All our wooden boats are Stevenson designs.