After we got home from work on Fridays, we packed all we needed for a weekend aboard Favonian. We sailed from our marina with all the food, spirits, and miscellaneous items to be self-sufficient. And not once did we forget the olives!
We had bought the latest Coast and Geodetic Survey chart showing depths of water, obstructions, any shoals, and all the navigable rivers, creeks and coves. Favonian only drew about 3-ft. so we had a wide choice of anchorages. For you folks not familiar with charts, here is a portion of a nautical chart from Piloting, Seamanship and Small Boat Handling.
We loved to anchor in a seldom-traveled river, and have the place all to ourselves—no civilization for miles around, just farms or pastures. Please don’t get me wrong; Marie and I get along very well with other people—we love parties, and we participated in all the sailing club’s activities. However, basically we’re somewhat loners.
As an example, we don’t enjoy restaurants that serve their guests on several long tables, like cows at the food trough. That’s just not our style. Perhaps we’re weird, eh? Nah. The other guy, maybe, but surely not us!
Have any of you sailors out there anchored in a similar situation as this and savored a juicy steak cooked over a charcoal grill, with maybe a baked potato and tossed salad? Gee, it makes my mouth water just thinking about it! Now I know what they mean when they say, “It just doesn’t get any better than this.”
Something else we enjoyed was sleeping out in the large cockpit on nice evenings. The stars are so bright when you get away from the lights of any city. And that Milky Way up there seems like a comfortable blanket to nestle under. Have any of you also enjoyed interludes like this? If so, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
With me, there was one problem that always cropped up—Sunday afternoons, when we had to head for the barn. Damn. I just wanted to keep right on sailing