Craighill Keeper’s bLog

I hadn’t fallen asleep until after midnight and hoped Tyler would sleep in given how late he also went to bed. Nope, no such luck! He was up at 6 AM with the sun, naturally. He was so excited to be out at the lighthouse that the chattiness kicked into full gear immediately, as well as the million questions. I couldn’t help but ride along on his eagerness, so I got up and showed him the lighthouse again in the daylight, including the basement. He was so wowed by everything. Awfully cute! Now, about that coffee and supplies… I headed over to the cleat the boat was tied up on (after initial relief at the visual confirmation that the boat was still there!). I took the excess line and again threw it over the outhouse and then hitched it to the cleat near the platform before undoing the other side. My hands were raw from all the wrestling with lines I did the previous night, also mottled by cuts and scratches. I wondered where my gloves were. I remembered having them in my jacket pocket the night before, but was unable to locate them in the morning.

I pulled and pulled on the line, but the boat refused to budge. The wind was whipping by and the seas were considerably rougher than the previous night. Despite my aching hands, I continued by using the sleeves of my jacket as gloves, finally getting enough slack that I could run down to the platform and grab the line to haul in from there. As the boat neared the lighthouse (after what seemed like an eternity), the bow bobbed up and down, left and right, dangerously close to the caisson. As I tugged and tugged to coax it closer to the platform, the bow continued bobbing violently, I had to instead fend off the boat so the railing didn’t catch on the platform. I sat down and pushed on the line with my foot to ease the boat away from danger. As soon as the nose turned, the boat tugged back away from me. Lather, rinse, repeat. “Ackkkkk!” I screamed as I watched one of my shoes ripped off my foot by the tether line and fall into the water. “What?!?! Mommy?!” Tyler came running to peer over the railing, I’m sure convinced I had fallen into the water. I laughed and assured him I just lost my shoe. I wished I had the boat hook (on the boat, of course) so I could fish it out. We both watched as it drifted away. I had just bought the pair last weekend!

I decided to give up for the time being and weigh my options while I satisfied myself with cold decaffeinated tea for the moment, thankful I had decided to bring that water up after all. My raw hands needed a rest anyway. I also continued searching for my gloves, not believing I would have left them on the boat. Fearing I’d be unable to bring the boat in at all, but assuring myself the wind and seas would have to die down eventually, I took stock of the situation and inventoried what we had. 2.5 gallons of water, 1 box of Snack Sticks, 1 banana (Tyler already ate it for breakfast), box of tea, honey, 1 sandwich bag of Cheerios - the rest was in the cooler on the boat. I had brought two bags of Cheerios to use for our breakfasts, but Tyler ate one on the long drive up the night before. That ended up being his dinner since we got out so late. I had skipped dinner. Supply-wise, we had the flag, but no flag pole, pulley and rope for hauling stuff up (but I realized I needed a bolt for it), hammock chair, sleeping stuff, cameras, clothing, and nothing else. The bucket, bleach, deck scrubber, flag pole, roofing supplies, tools, VHF radio, boat hook - all on the boat. We couldn’t even do anything productive or useful while we sat there and waited. I was beginning to feel defeated, but not ready to admit defeat yet.

I slipped into the Crocs (shoes) I brought, thankful I had brought them! I discarded my lone shoe into the pile of clothes. Still convincing myself the weather would calm, despite the fact that I knew a cold front was approaching but not supposed to hit til Sunday, I looked around for something to do. I mean, from the deck the day appeared perfect! Just a few wisps of cloud, sun shining brightly, and temperatures that were mild. That wind, though! Oy. Feeling useless and helpless, I decided to hang the hammock chair in the watch room from one of the hooks in the ceiling. Then I continued pacing. I wanted to clean off the bird poop! I wanted to scrub the decks, fix the roof, sweep the interior! I was kicking myself for not bringing up the rest of the supplies the previous night. I was beginning to admit defeat and felt like a complete failure. I started wondering who I could call? I wanted to call anyone, just to relay the predicament, but didn’t want anyone to feel bad for canceling, so just kept pacing and trying again and again to bring the boat in and failing.

A fisherman came by and asked if we were okay. I realized he must think we climbed up on the lighthouse because we ran into trouble. I told him I run a non-profit that owns the lighthouse and briefly explained the program to him. “Awesome!” he yelled! I leaned over the railing and explained our predicament. He said, “Yeah, it’s crazy out here, eh?” but was unable to figure out how he could help get the supplies up. I couldn’t come up with any brilliant ideas either - even trying to get alongside our boat was probably a risky idea, given how at this point the bow was dipping down between swells enough to get water over it. “Good luck fishing!” I yelled and waved as he sped off.

Other boats periodically went past. I was surprised that hardly anyone waved - most gave us curious looks as they went by. I waved at a few, but after nobody waved back, I stopped and just looked curiously back wondering if winter boaters weren’t as friendly as summer boaters! I was well aware that seeing someone on a lighthouse probably was an odd sight. I’ll have to make a sign or something to hang from it that says who we are and how to become a member/volunteer!

Lunchtime came, so Tyler and I devoured the box of Snack Sticks. So far, the wind and waves hadn’t calmed down. Jane at Baltimore Light had called me back after the one phone call I did make. She had said there was supposed to be a break in the wind before it picked up again worse than it currently was. I decided we would take that opportunity to haul up what we could and then head back to the marina, since if the waves were this bad now, they were only going to be worse as the front pushed through and therefore we may not get off the lighthouse. Tyler began saying we were “lighthouse-wrecked” as he occupied himself by finding as many fishing hooks and lures he could and saving them in the plastic binoculars box. He found one that he insisted had a dead eel on it. At first I didn’t believe him, thinking it was probably seaweed. “No, look, its mouth is open!” he insisted as he held it up high by my face. “Wow, so it is!” He was very proud. He saved the hook, but we kicked the dried shriveled eel over the edge into the water.

We watched a big ship pass by heading south in the channel. Tyler amused himself by trying to read the words on the side through binoculars. A helicopter buzzed the lighthouse too as it headed south, but unfortunately I didn’t have my camera ready at the moment. I knew the wake of the ship would hit eventually, so decided to just sit and wait it out a bit longer and gauge the wind. I determined if I pulled the boat further to the east of the platform so the bow was in front of it, I might be able to get it lined up and swinging the stern away from the caisson - but how to do it? There weren’t any cleats over there. I was afraid to try to tie it to the railing as I didn’t want to damage the lighthouse. Instead, I decided to scope out the other hatch and ladder by the boat davits. After resisting at first, I finally pulled the hatch open. The ladder was depressingly too short and had no platform to use to stage the supplies on. I quickly decided it wouldn’t work. However, I noticed that the leeward side of the lighthouse was just to the side of the davits, between that hatch and the other hatch with the platform. If only there was a way to use it and tie the boat up between the two davits… If only the winch worked and I had a way to lift the boat out of the water! At that point, it seemed the only solution. Then I remembered the ladder inside and the board I had noticed stored in the “bathroom” area that I didn’t recall seeing there before. Hmm… I wonder!

I went back inside and checked out the ladder. It had two hooks on one side where there was a long drop where one would think rungs should be. On the other end was a square frame jutting out. I turned it over in my mind, trying to figure out how it would hook onto the short ladder. Aha, the hooks go from inside out and then the frame juts out. I grabbed the board from the bathroom and fit it into the frame - whaddya know? Perfect fit! If I could get the ladder attached and put the board in to form a platform, it would be perfect! I tried to lift the ladder - umm, nope, definitely no way I could do that myself. I decided to just make a mental note and on the next trip out with help, that would be the first order of business.

The rough seas and wind seemed to be lightening up a bit by 1:00 PM and figuring it may be my best shot, I decided to try to haul the boat in again. I had left it on the cleat near the platform on my last attempt since it was swinging more north and no longer endangering the outhouse with the line. Tyler was bringing me my cellphone begging me to call Boat US, remembering the boat that towed us to the marina the last time the boat died. I’m funny about asking for help - in our household, I’m the one who refuses to ask for directions, insisting I can find my own way! So I resisted and told him I thought I could get it this time. It was easier, but still a long laborious task, to pull the boat in against the wind. I began wondering if maybe the boat was in fact too big and heavy to be used at the lighthouse, remembering the small boat Baltimore Light was using.

In one previous attempt, I had managed to jump onto the boat, but promptly hopped off back onto the platform when I realized it was like riding a mechanical bull and there was no way I’d be able to control the boat in the rough waves. I didn’t even manage to run inside and shut off the anchor light, but at least I had switched the battery to the one I don’t normally use to start/run the boat! I was counting on having the other battery once we were ready to go. Again, I managed to get the boat close enough to jump on. It was bucking wildly still, but I had already figured out if I got the bow past the platform, I could put a spring line (already tied to an eyelet behind the ladder) on the side cleat and then the boat should just nose into the wind, allowing me to pull it sideways to the platform to get supplies up. Once I had them up, the plan was to leave. I was disappointed about not accomplishing anything, but at that point I was so exhausted and my hands hurt to touch anything, so it was the best I could hope for. As I inched my behind backwards while pulling on the soon-to-be spring line, the boat started bucking again. Suddenly I was riding up and down over at least 4-5 foot swells. I held on tight to the line since it was my only guaranteed way back to the platform and tried to scoot back to the front, but I was too late. The boat dipped bow down, then roared back up while twisting in the swells, then dropped down again… only it had twisted toward the platform, which caught the railing. I watched in horror as the railing split and screws flew while the base popped out on both sides of the hull. “Mommy!!! You’re breaking the boat!!” Tyler squealed as he watched horrified from the deck. Another swell, dip down, and up, this time bending the front of the railing up on the way down. At this point I had scooted down for enough to kick off the platform before standing and jumping to it on the next rise up. I then pushed the boat away.

If I was the crying type, I would have been bawling by then. Completely discouraged, my confidence shot, I climbed back up the ladder and let out the tether line so the boat could return to its safe distance. “Look, you cracked the boat!” Tyler pointed to a scraggly black line leading down from one of the railing bases that popped up. I seriously wanted to cry by that point. I decided I had been insane to attempt this by myself with a kid, no less. Everyone else at the other lighthouses made it look so easy. So why did I seem to be completely helpless, not to mention destructive? I peered over at the seas and the violently dipping boat and wondered how on earth a dock would even be feasible with seas like that.

“Beep-beep” My cell phone started making its “low battery” noises. I had just charged it, so was baffled as to why it was going dead so quickly. Now that I think about it, reception out there was spotty and I know the “Searching for service” bit they do tends to run down batteries. That must have been it. I should have turned it off overnight. Near-panic, I again ran through who I could call. At this point, I just wanted someone to get us off the lighthouse and deposit us in our boat, which obviously wasn’t going to cooperate. I wondered how on earth I had managed so easily (or comparatively easily!) the night before, in the dark no less! I laid on the mattress and listened to the “boing boing twang” sounds the davit tension lines made in the wind. They sounded like someone plucking eery out-of-tune piano strings - kinda neat. “Call Boat US,” Tyler insisted. I remembered the nice towboat operator offering help if I ever needed it, and I figured he was such a pro and good at handling boats, that he’d do fine getting up to the lighthouse, so I conceded. I didn’t have his card on me in my purse, so I called the Boat US tow line. We got disconnected. “Beep-beep” (low battery). I called again and after explaining to the baffled dispatcher, was informed that since we didn’t really need a tow, he didn’t think there was anything he could do. “Do you have the number for the local tow operator?” I asked. He gave me the number, so I called and left a voicemail. Shortly, my phone beeped a different tone to let me know that I had voicemail. I checked it and memorized the cell number the operator’s daughter had given me and dialed. They happily agreed to come help and I told them where to approach the lighthouse.

We pulled all our bags out and set them next to the hatch and then watched for the boat through the binoculars. Once they approached, they tied up to the ladder and we lifted Tyler down. It was a long drop down. I had to flip over onto my belly and dangle my legs down before dropping onto the side. I said I’d offer them a tour and they said, “maybe when the water’s calmer!”. His daughter said it was weird - no wind or waves up by the inlets, but as soon as they hit the open water it was like “bam!” That actually made me feel better, especially since it was the calmest I’d seen all day, actually! I almost attempted to try again with the boat, but my confidence was shattered. Without another person to push it off even if I boarded, the task was pointless. Plus, I was having a hard enough time making sure the tether line didn’t get caught under the broken railing section.

They were sooooo nice! Asked the name of the nonprofit and said they’d just write off the rescue on their taxes. I must send them a thank you card (and include the EIN for their purposes). The boat gave me fits starting, but eventually fired up and we chugged (slowly again - now I’m a bit concerned about the engine) back to the marina. Given the reports from the tow boat, I was expecting no wind, but it was rather windy in the marina. Miraculously, I managed to turn into one inlet in order to turn the boat around to back into our end slip. Workers on the dock for some huge industrial boat now moored along the end stopped what they were doing and looked up. “What slip are you going into?” they asked. “The end one,” I replied. Two of them scurried to each side and if I wasn’t so exhausted, I would have laughed at the sight. Here we were, one woman and a child chugging in with an obviously laboring engine and a torn up front railing. All I could think was they were thinking, “Woman driver!” as they grabbed my dock lines and waited. I smiled contentedly as despite my exhaustion, I backed in perfectly without needing any extra maneuvering (I’m accustomed to at least doing that myself and then jumping off to tie it up while it drifts in). I didn’t even notice the wind. I thanked them for handing me the bow lines and shut the engine off.

Later when I was returning from the bathroom, one of the workers was getting into a truck and stopped me to compliment my docking skills. “You just turned and slid perfectly right in there!” he exclaimed. I guess they were surprised given the condition of the boat haha! Still, it made me feel a little better about my boating skills after such a disastrous 24 hours.

I stowed all the lighthouse supplies in the hold under the sofa and then cooked us dinner. Tyler exuberantly shouted, “Hey, look, it’s like a cartoon! The boat isn’t cracked - it was a string!” as he proudly held up the string he pulled off the boat to magically remove the “crack”. Whew, well at least the damage isn’t as bad as I had initially dreaded. Tyler and I played “war” with a deck of cards while I kept checking my watch to see if it was a reasonable time to put him to bed (6? No, probably too early)… Finally at 8 we both went to sleep. I realized as I started to drift off that the waterproofing tape was somewhere in a bin I had stored. I hoped it wouldn’t rain overnight and decided I’d tape up the broken railings and bases in the morning. Which I did.. then restowed everything. I finally got some coffee. The rains and wind came and we headed home.

So, it was a learning experience, and I suppose that means the trip wasn’t completely useless. Still, I can’t help but feeling like a big fat failure at the moment. Now, will someone please tell the world to quit rocking?!

LESSONS:

1. Always have two or more adults at the lighthouse
2. Pay attention to small craft advisories because it probably means pulling in the boat will be impossible
3. Bring VHF/weather radio up into lighthouse
4. Bring boat hook up into lighthouse
5. If the opportunity to load supplies presents itself, use it
6. Cell reception is spotty
7. Set up the other ladder/platform and get the winch working
8. Balance the load properly even if it is easier to leave everything in the back of the boat
9. Get a tetanus shot
10. Bring the inflatable up to the lighthouse. At least with the 150 ft line I had for hauling stuff up, I could have let us back out to the boat or at least brought stuff up one by one (need a rope ladder or fire escape ladder for this to work)
11. I’m sure I’ll be adding to this list…