I turned off comments. Again. I'm not sure that I've ever received a single legitimate comment on this site. For that matter, I'm not 100 percent sure that any other than me has ever looked at the content on this site. In any case, I'm tired of going through 500 comments just to delete them all. It's not even fun to read the fake comments anymore.

And to the person(s) who use some form of "Your Web site is ugly" as their comment-spam comment: Really, find something else to say. It's bad enough that you are polluting the Web with comment spam to begin with, but to add insult to the injury? If I was the kind of person who believed in Hell I would be the kind of person that hoped for a special place for you.

I'm not sure anybody reads this site. Heck, I don't pay that much attention to it anymore. Occasionally I'll spend some time looking over my old entries, but for the most part it just goes by the wayside.

I spent a couple of days this week getting Odyssey ready for sailing. Who knows if I'm even going to get her in the water this year. Sailing seems like a low priority for the family, and I'm not strong enough to go without them.

Last year I built a crutch to use when stepping the mast, I used it when Rich and I went sailing in September. This year I tried stepping the mast by myself, and it went up smoothly, the second time. The first time was a bit of a fiasco, but Katie was able to help me get the mast back down before I dropped it.

I also set up the poptop, and made a boom tent out of a tarp. The hatch is getting old and warped, I'd like to make a fancy replacement with a plexiglass window. Maybe sometime this summer.

I'll haul the seat cushions, sails and halyards over on Monday night, and then Odyssey will be ready for a sailing season.

I wonder if I will?

Today is the first day of the Seattle boat show. For some reason I'm not interested in attending this year.

It may be because sailboats are under-represented again this year. It may be because I've seen many of the new boats before they've gone in (my new job is right across the railroad tracks from Qwest Field).

Mostly I think it's because I'm getting disillusioned about sailing. Opportunities to sail have been few and far between. Places I want to go, at least in my mind, are closed to me going without my family, and my family doesn't want to go.

I also think I'm feeling sorry for myself and need to snap out of it.

Time to start keeping a log for s/v Odyssey again. I've been remiss for the last year, something about the frustration of not being able to sail often and getting injured.

In any case, here we are. Odyssey is tucked up snug on her trailer. I'm planning some simple projects for the spring.

My son's birthday party was yesterday, a grand affair that included cake, ice cream, and presents. And water balloons. And a bouncy house.

Anyway, when one of the parents came to pick up his kids, he saw Odyssey sitting there, and he asked me,

So, when's the last time you went sailing?

Oooooo, I hate that question. It implies that owning a boat is a waste of money, that I'd be better off without it 'cause, you know, I really never get to go sailing.

Blegga

I've decided the right answer is "Often enough." That way I don't have to tell them I've only sailed once this year (see the whole series of log entries about the rudder mishap), and it implies that if I wanted to sail more, darn it, I would.

Which I would.

If only life didn't keep getting in the way.

And there's that whole pesky rudder thing.

Ever have one of those days? I had one yesterday.

First, Ron brought my new rudder out. I'd left it at his house so he could put a few more coats of polyurethane on. It looked great, 'til I tried to put the tiller on. The tiller don't fit. The new rudder is about 1/8 thicker than the old one, and the tiller won't slip over it. I need to sand down the end of the rudder so the tiller will fit, and then refinish that end.

No problems, I though. I'll just do some of the other little projects I have for Odyssey. So I decided to put the bumper hangers I bought back in January on. I originally planned to put them on the deck, but as I stood and looked I realized they would work better on the cabin side. I should note at this point that I thought about through-bolting the hangers, but then decided just deck mounting them would be fine. Except the cabin side in only half an inch thick, and I had three-quarter inch screws. Which I found out after driving the first one through the side into the cabin. Looks like they're going to be through-bolted after all. I'd just run to the hardware store and pick up some bolts, washers and nuts, except the hardware store closed 10 minutes ago.

Well, what about the new cam cleats for the jib sheets? I marked the location, drilled the holes, put the bolts (carefully measured from the original cam cleats) in, then went below to put the bolts on. What bolts? They just barely reached the bottom of the hole. 'Nother thing to add to the list when I go to the hardware store.

So I didn't really get anything done, but I did get a chance to play with the boat. And how bad is that, really?

There's this moment, right after you hoist the sails and turn off the motor, when the wind fills the sails and the boat starts to heel. The motor falls silent, and you can hear the water splashing past the bow and gurgling past the transom.

Pull the tiller up a little, and the bow falls off and the sails fill and the a little spray kicks up over the deck and you're off across the water. Playing the tiller and the sheets, feeling the wind and the waves.

That moment you connect with generations of sailors heading back into history and forward into eternity. For an hour, a day, a week you use man's skill to harness the power of the Mother, not to impose our will on Nature as we so often do in this day, but to cooperate with the world we find around us to move us where we want or need to go.

It's been a long time coming this year. Odyssey's transom was more work than I anticipated. Little League seemed to expand to take over our lives. The farm needed more work than ever to get under control this spring. Cats and dogs and chickens and children and deadlines at work seemed to pile up an endless screaming demand for more and more and more of my time...

But last night I put the last of the gear aboard Odyssey. The anchor is stored below. The tiller and the rudder are waiting on the cabin seat ready to be shipped. The safety equipment and flares and ropes and fenders and cushions and all the many things that need to be aboard are stowed in their places on board. I tied the halyard shackles to the new halyards. I spread the sails out on the lawn and refolded them to ease the strains of being packed into sail bags for the winter.

Soon. A day. A week. Maybe two. And then we'll be out on the water and the motor will be off and I'll pull the tiller up and the sails will fill and the only sound will be wind and the soft gurgle of the water closing behind Odyssey as we rejoin the sailors.

October on Puget Sound is a funny time of the year. The air is typically cold, but the sun shines most days. If you're in the shade, you'll be cold, but out in the sun you're warm and the gold and reds of the fall leaves glow against the dark greens and greys of the firs.

It's a beautiful time for being out in the open, but it's also the time that I have to get our hobby farm ready for the winter. Instead of sails and sheets I have to worry about hog fuel and drain lines, stacking hay and cleaning gutters.

And all this time Odyssey sits at the end of the driveway, nestled up beside the shop. I know it's just my imagination, just me projecting how I feel onto Odyssey, but she seems a little depressed, a little sad about the fact that we won't be heading out onto Possession Sound until next year.

On the other hand, yesterday afternoon when I got home from work I walked down the driveway after shutting the gate, and I looked at my sailboat sitting on her trailer, and I thought "I own a sailboat. How cool is that?"