Part 5

After the successful first launching and several weeks later at a scout troop meeting, the activity on the agenda was to plan a campout for the upcoming weekend. One of the boys was moving to Boise, Idaho and this outing would be a sort of “farewell tribute” to him. The first item of planning was to choose a location. I immediately raised my hand and suggested that, because of its nice grassy areas to pitch a tent and excellent facilities with plenty of water close by, Fish Hook State Park might be a nice place to camp. I lobbied that there were lots of places to hike and explore and a clean swimming area if the weather was warm… “Oh, and, I have this nice sailboat we could take along too!”

The scoutmaster raised his eyebrows when he heard that but, because of the overwhelming excitement and unanimously enthusiastic endorsement by the rest of the boys, he knew that, short of instigating martial law, he was powerless to steer the process of location-selection in a more conservative direction. He was out-voted and I got my way! I was going sailing again.

In preparing the boat for this campout, one of the improvements I made to its design to facilitate the emptying process was the installation of a drain hole at the stern. I found a cork in mother’s nick-knack drawer and drilled a slightly smaller hole so the cork would fit snuggly and be sure to keep water out… probably a mute concern given the fact that water was so readily able to get in through so many other locations.

At the campout, the boat was a huge social success and it was nice to have so many willing helpers to lift the bow for me after each trans-swimming-area crossing. We managed to keep the boat in a constant portage mode throughout the day as I tried to make sure that everyone who wanted a turn got his chance. Also, the day offered ample opportunities for me to practice all of the various points of sail and by evening I had mastered the ability to navigate where ever I wanted to go, upwind or downwind.

I noticed as the day progressed that the “farewell boy” had developed a keen affection for my little ship and the mysteries of sailing. Also, I recognized that any future pleasure to be had from this vessel was going to come at a huge cost and I had begun to tire of the constant need to accommodate the boats unquenchable efforts to ingest every ounce of water that the river had to offer. I was already mentally toying with bigger and better hull design solutions so, as the campout dwindled to a close and we began packing for the return trip, I had a conversation with Farewell Boy wherein I offered the boat to him (minus the sail) as a parting gesture of friendship. I had another plan in mind for the sail that required that I keep it. This, I was only willing to do if he promised to take good care of her. I could tell by the gleam in his eyes that she was going to a good home and after only using her twice I set my beloved “first born” free into the cruising world to fare for herself while plying the waters of the greater Boise area. I somehow doubt that she did as much plying as she did diving!