by Bob Kranich
Robert’s Best, (Part 3, Excerpt 88)
This is a new story. Robert’s Best is a sail boat. Grandfather Roberts is going to sail it on the Intracoastal waterway from Texas to Key West, Florida. That will be an adventure. Then his grandchildren and their parents will come to Key West on a visit. There will be a lot of funny happenings until the criminals from a previous story get into action. A side note is that a 1935 antique Chris-Craft Model 557 Cabin Cruiser is going to play an important part in the rest of the story.
Roberts’ Best
The next day after Sunday school, church, and a home-made fish dinner. “That was good fish, Grandfather. Now are we going sailing?”
“You bet, Harold. Let’s get down to the pier and get going. They rowed the dinghy with their snacks and cokes out to the Roberts’ Best.
“Do you want me to pull up the anchors, Grandfather?”
“Yes, Harold. Remember to turn the cranks in the front and rear, and then put on the locks. I’ll check you.”
“All done, Grandfather. Take a look.”
“Real fine. You’re going to make a good sailor. Now let’s get these up. We’re fortunate since it is a sloop we only have two sails to worry about, the mainsail here in the rear and the headsail there in the front. I like to call it the jib.”
“Why do they call it a sloop, Grandfather?”
“Well mostly because it just has one mast. See this big pole here going straight up. It’s called the mast. The big pole here lying sideways and holding the sail, it’s called the boom. Now, let’s turn these cranks. They will put up the sails.”
“I can do it Grandfather.”
“Ok, show me, Junior. I’ll help you if you need it.”
Up the two sails went and the boat began to move. The Roberts’ Best was steered from inside a small cabin just in the center of the boat. Down below it had a very small galley, two sleeping berths, a head*, and some storage up front. It was a serious small sailboat.”
“Let’s get our life preservers on, Harold, and come down here so you can steer this boat.”
“Ok, Grandfather.”
“Now you will have to stand up on this step to look out. Here grab the wheel. Once we get out a little farther, we’ll turn due north, and I will show you how to use the compass to stay on a northerly course.”
“What’s a compass, Grandfather?”
“It’s this little thing in front of you, right here. One side of this needle always points north.”
They sailed for about an hour due north. It was easy for Harold Junior since the main part of Lake Houston runs north-south for about twenty miles. At least ten miles of that was the wider part. Of course Grandfather Roberts was right at his side helping.
Clouds were beginning to appear in the southern sky, and the wind was beginning to pick up as Grandfather Roberts turned the boat around. Harold Junior had been playing around the bunks below and inspecting everything.
He came back to the cockpit, “It’s getting windy, Grandfather. What happened to the sun? What are those big black clouds?”
“Harold, it looks like a storm is racing in. That’s funny, I didn’t see anything on the weather report about it.”
They could see some boats to either side of them heading for the shore.
“Harold, hold this wheel for a minute. I’m going to drop the jib sail.”
“That’s the front one, right, Grandfather?” he asked proudly.
“You’re correct. There it’s done. Hold the wheel for a minute more while I secure the sail.”
“There, that job is finished. You did well, Harold. Now we’re going to get in a little closer to the shore and then we’ll have to tack to go against the wind.”
“What does tack mean, Grandfather?”
“Watch the boat’s direction, Harold. First I go right...and then left. Watch the boom as it changes sides. See the wind, it is now letting us move forward against it, although not as fast as if the wind was at our back.”
“Oh,” Harold exclaimed.
It had become dark and foreboding. The wind was gusting. Every time they tacked left or right, the side of the boat was exposed to the wind, and waves would wash over the sides and splash both of them.
“It’s getting wet, Grandfather!” Harold yelled as the wind took his words right out of his mouth.
“I know Harold, Just hold on, I can see our pier now.”
They stayed on a right tack and came racing into the protection of their cove. Grandfather dropped both anchors. They got into the dinghy, and rowed hurriedly over to the pier, tied up, and ran for the house, life vests still on and dripping as the rain pelted them.
Inside the cottage: “Now, Harold Junior, it’s hot showers and clean dry clothes for the both of us.”
“The rain has stopped Grandfather,” Harold said as he looked out the living room’s front window.
“Good. Let’s grab your day bag and go over to your house for supper.
I’m going to be hungry.”
“I like this truck, Grandfather. It smells nice inside it.”
“That’s called the ‘newness’ smell Harold, It’s from a new truck’s seats and upholstery.”
“Now buckle your lap seatbelt. We want to be safe.”
The ‘54 Ford 150 took off real smooth. “How come your truck drives much quieter and smoother than my father’s truck, Grandfather?”
“Harold it’s newer, it’s got an overhead valve engine, and an automatic transmission, and I’m not a hot rodder like your Dad.”
“What’s an automatic transmission, Grandfather?”
“It means you don’t have to shift it. That means go from first to second gear like your Dad does when he moves that long rod on the floor. See, I just put it in ‘D’ here.”
“What does the “D” mean, Grandfather?”
“Well it means “Drive. But what it really means is Go!”
“Oh,” Harold Junior said, “What’re all those bridges, Grandfather?”
“We just passed the Interstate Number Ten Harold. Those bridges and roads are needed when two big roads come together. We’ve just got a few more miles and we’ll be at your home,” Grandfather Roberts said patiently.
It had gotten real quiet. Grandfather Roberts looked over at Harold Junior. He had fallen asleep.
“Thank goodness!” He said under his breath.
From the Author:
My second full-length book , Florida Keys’ Watercolor Kapers is composed of 336 pages. There are 12 stories running from 6 pages to as many as 72 pages. It is fully illustrated with 88 watercolors and sketches. The watercolors I made roaming around Key West after I finished my 750 mile hike from Georgia to Key West. (See book or Don Browne’s SouthWest Florida Online News records, A Walk Across Florida.) As you read these stories you will experience Key West, the Keys, and the Caribbean. These stories span the time of the early 1800’s to 1969. bkranich.wixsite.com/bobkranich
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