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Bertram 31 Block Island Cruise
"Friday, August 11th, 2000 -- The ride there"
My mate Karen and I departed East Moriches, NY for Block at 1pm on Friday. Winds were mild out of the southwest and we chose the outside via the sometimes cautionary Moriches inlet (We have the option of taking the inside passage via the Shinecock canal and Peconic bay- good for sightseeing and calm waters, but bad for time). We cruise the 22-year-old 454's at 20 knots and 2800 rpm. At about 1 gpm. Those flow scans really help. We saw two charter 31's along the way, both returning toward Montauk, which helped get the juices flowing for the anticipated weekend. Eight miles out side of Block we went from sunny skies to pea soup fog in about five minutes. The gps was right on, but this was a reminder to move reinstalling my reconditioned radar up the priority list. As of today, I still have not gotten this done. Four miles out, the fog breaks as fast as it came, and there's Block Island, big as life. I picked up the mike and with no amount of confidence hailed "CAPY", our master of ceremonies. To my surprise, and theirs, back he came. We had come from opposite ends, and through very different waters, and arrived within five minutes of each other at about four pm, a good omen if there ever was one.
"Docking "
We pulled up to the gas dock at Cliff Payne's Marina, our home for the next "two" days. I go get Cliff who is a very hands on guy when it comes to helping you dock your boat. This is because he has to be. With most of the "slips" already taken, and no posts to separate them, everyone backs into the dock and ties up together. Cliff has two "presidential" slips ready for us tucked inside of an elbow with 40 footers on either side and a 46' post to negotiate. This called for Paul (CAPY) followed by us, to use a new backwards double left hand maneuver to get in. This was actually easier than it sounds because there were about 50 nervous people and Cliff stationed on their boat rails to help fend off. Alas, both vessels were sweetly backed in with little or no fending, much to the admirable comments from these people. Ahh the Bertram mystique!
"The opening toast"
With the boats tied up like one of those Chinese finger locks, we all shook hands and had a beer while the boats got washed down. Our new friends Paul and Carol then took the lead, which sealed our weekend bond. Out of nowhere, Paul cranks up Sinatra (absolute music to our ears), and proceeds to make the best damn martinis I have ever had, period! Imagine the genius of stuffing my favorite pizza topping, the anchovy, into the olives, creating a chum slick on the surface in a traditional martini glass. By now, we actually love these people. We toast to Dick Bertram, Mr. Ferretti, and other people who I can't remember. All this, while admiring and praising each other's boats as if we were the only ones in the marina. I have to say that the glass bulkhead with steamed teak frame on CAPY is stunning. The whole cabin seems twice the size, and the teak and holey sole and dinette that Paul made came out great. The overhead treatment in the v-berth consists of a Formica like material with teak trim that updates the look. It's also lighter than the plywood paneling with naultilux, which it replaces. 'You know Paul, CAPY is even more beautiful than the picture on the site", and so forth. This went on all weekend, naturally. Talk about four people getting along famously. The B31 mutual admiration society in full motion!
"Say Paul, do you notice the wind picking up?"
After a nice dinner, we went back to the marina, looked around, found no other B31's, and headed for our sacks. The wind was picking up to 20 or better by 10pm, but no rain yet. Restless, at around 11pm I left my sleeping mate and walked outside. That's when I made eye contact with Doug's "Alchemy" pulling into the gas dock. "Hey Paul, another 31 just pulled in." . Silence. I walked over and greeted Doug and his cousin Brad who were already being 'very personally" greeted by a woman from the 46' Post. Doug looked a little green from his now famous emergency repairs made out in the swelling seas, but both were happy to have made it.
"Saturday, and the weather lets up for a while"
Saturday morning brought coffee, drizzle, and a complete tour of the Alchemy. Doug is Mr. TEAK. Doug's own work on the deck is solid, and the round corner hatches look like Norm Abrams made them. Below deck, everything is painted and clean. My favorite work is in the v-berth, where the walls are paneled in teak. This is my next pet project, in fact. After a good breakfast at the old Naraganset Inn, we headed into town to meet the ferry carrying Paul and Carols friend Holley, who came in for the weekend. I'm not sure what she thought a 31 Bertram was, but when she asked what stateroom she would be assigned to we replied, "why, the dinette stateroom, of course". Later that morning, the weather let up long enough for a visit from Richard Miller and his friend Beatrice on his stunning 31FBC, "Mischief", out of Fishers Island. Like CAPY, this is another light, topless boat with a beautiful navy hull, and a pair of the quietest Yanmars I've yet to hear. Richard had all the sea trial stats memorized down to the decimal points, while the rest of us by this time, could only work with whole numbers. i.e.; how many cans, olives, bottles, etc. Suffice it to say it was a very clean installation in a 30+ knot boat. With the wind picking up again, Richard and friend decided not to risk getting stuck on Block, and headed back home after only a brief, two hour visit, but they get full credit for making it to the rendezvous.
With this, Doug and Brad headed off on rented mopeds, and the rest of us headed back to the boats. That night we all had diner at The National Inn in town. The food that night was lousy, but the drinks at the bar were very good, and so the stage (see photo) was set for lots of laughs. From there, we headed to a disco to polish the floors, and later settled down on the back deck of CAPY, where Doug read uncle Vic's diatribe, or manifesto on B31's depending how you look at it, with more beer, anchovy martinis, a toast to Captain Patrick, general foolishness, gunwale dancing, singing with Sinatra (see photo, note Paul), and finally, good night.
"Where's the rest of the fleet?"
With no others of our kind in our marina, we went off on Sunday in search of the rest of the group. At the next marina, Champlins, we met up with Capt. Ron out of Point Judith, RI., bending over in that most famous of plumbers poses in the cockpit of his heavily fished, towered, 31FBC and cutting bait. This guy had absolutely no idea who we were, and knew nothing about the rendezvous, but was a good sport nonetheless. With his permission, I boarded his boat for a mini inspection and photo session. We invited him to join us over the weekend to help empty the iceboxes, (which he, his lovely wife, and friends did on Monday). Doug, Brad, with Holley as mate, headed back to CT. on Sunday in visibly lousy conditions, but with a relatively short trip. Brad was nice enough to call us on the cell phone to let us know they had made it across, always a smart thing to do. The CAPY and Kar-Fre, decided to hold off till Monday morning, as CAPY would have a tough head sea to deal with for several hours, and their was no reason for K and I to want four hours of the same junk following us. I like sleigh rides, but why push it. Later on Sunday, the wind and rain really started to pick up.
"Monday, and we be stayin!" On Monday, another vessel in the marina reported winds at 40+ knots. If not for the good camaraderie developed between the crew of the two remaining boats, we would have been down right pissed off by now. It just was not fun any more, and yet here the four of us were, still having fun. Monday brought three significant events: we did laundry at Champlins, we're the machines ripped us off, we went into town and saw the movie "Space Cowboys" at the little town barn theatre, and finally made the epic decision to check in for what we hoped would be our final night on the island, at the Naraganset Inn. That afternoon, Captain Ron, his wife, and another couple came by to see our boats, have a beer or two, and keep us company for a while. After three rolling monsoon nights, we were actually giddy about spending the night on a stationary bed in a dry room. An old guest log under glass confirmed that K and I were staying in the room occupied on the night of July 21st, 1927, by one Amelia Earhart. Paul and Carol joined us in Amelia's room with a fresh pitcher of anchovy martinis, but the weather was not for flying and so she didn't make it. But she was there in spirit.
"Tuesday, and we be leavin!" Tuesday brought "subdued winds" in the 15-20's, reports of long northerly swells, and lots of rain, with scattered lightning. In other words, the best weather of the weekend. With some sadness, we said our goodbyes, fueled up, and headed for home. We were the only boat we saw rounding Montauk that morning, and the combination of the rips, current, wind, and following sea kept us alert. I also new that CAPY would be having much worse a time of it, and prayed for their safe passage. To the west, I could see the parting clouds with the sun shining through. Feeling a little like Mosses, I picked up the revs, and with the sea calmed by Long Island to our north, we stopped in Shinecock for lunch in the sun, followed by a short final leg home.
The weekend had brought new friends, experiences, and new boating skills learned and further honed. Lots of thanks go to Captain Patrick for bringing us together. Aside from the weather, and that's one big aside, we had a terrific time. Like Paul said, we made friends for life, and experienced some adventure. There is no question that we will do something like this again next season, albeit sooner, and post a "rain check" weekend just in case. Hey Paul, got any hats left?
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