A loyal, uncomplaining member of the crew
Issue 105 : Nov/Dec 2015
We lost a treasured sailing companion several years back and sailing hasn’t been quite the same since. By all appearances that August morning, Johnson felt fine. He seemed strong and fit and ready to go, just as he had every sailing day for the past 15 years. There were no complaints or coughing spells that would have hinted at a serious health problem.
In spite of his advanced age, he had a spark for life that kept him looking and feeling young. Many of our dockmates couldn’t believe his age. Some guessed he was 15 years younger. Johnson displayed the strength and endurance of a youngster. He loved to run and often would run for hours at a time without the slightest complaint. The more he ran, in fact, the stronger he seemed to get. He hated being idle.
We were proud of his appearance and how he behaved as we’d maneuver through the marina fairways on our way out to open water. And I could always count on him. When we were out on the Chesapeake sailing for the day, I was confident that he was there, at the ready, if we needed him. I never had to ask twice. He could get our 25-footer moving when nothing else could. Sadly, his passing has changed all that.
Johnson wasn’t a living, breathing human being. In spite of drawing in his fair share of oxygen over the years, he wasn’t alive in the biological sense. But to us, it sure felt like he was. He sat there on his motor mount, like a member of the crew, ready when needed. Johnson was our 1981 Johnson Sailmaster outboard, one of the finest two-strokes ever to push a sailboat.
Our relationship started in the mid-1990s when my wife, Peg, and I decided to buy a 1982 Capri 25 that we happened upon while walking the docks of an upper-bay marina. The “For Sale” sign taped to her hatchboards that summer evening opened a whole new world of sailing for us. Tackful, as we renamed her, came equipped with Johnson — 7.5 horses of power and the heart of a lion.
I learned from the previous owner that the Sailmaster, while clearly well maintained, was the original engine and had logged many hours over its 14 years. So, as we signed the papers the following afternoon, it was with the knowledge that we’d probably have to replace our new boat’s motor within a year or two.
We spent our first few months of sailing Tackful familiarizing ourselves with her tendencies and idiosyncrasies. Part of that “getting to know you” process was learning about our outboard and how it behaved under various conditions. I learned quickly that it was very, very predictable. It started on the third pull virtually every time, regardless of how long it’d been sitting. It liked the choke open full when cold, but closed quickly after firing up. After it had been started for the day, one gentle tug on the starter cord was all it needed. And once running, it didn’t want to stop, taking more than a light touch of the kill button to shut it down.
I’m not quite sure when “it” became “he,” but our Sailmaster’s dependability began to feel like loyalty early on. It might have been the time when we were sailing at hull speed across the narrow shipping channel of the upper bay and the fickle Chesapeake wind suddenly died, leaving us dead in the water and looking up at the enormity of a fast-approaching container ship. I should have known better than to try and race across in front of that massive ship, but there was no time for self-recrimination. I handed Peg the tiller, dropped Johnson into the water, and yanked, bringing him immediately to life and us out of harm’s way.
Since Johnson’s passing we’ve had two imposters in the form of four-stroke engines that we hoped would fill his shoes, but neither could. The latest, a brand new 6-horse-power, is light and easy on gas but unpredictable. It has let us down twice so far and left me to wonder when the next time will be. Old friends don’t let you down. They’re there whenever you need them.
We miss you, Johnson.
Alan Keene, a freelance writer, lyric poet, and boating columnist for Upper Bay Boating, sails his Capri 25 (sans Johnson) and his Oxford Dinghy on the Chesapeake Bay. His sailing poetry can be seen upon request at keenesofqueens@yahoo.com.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
