Wanderlust takes over after years of neglect
Issue 28 : Jan/Feb 2003
She sat on her trailer for so long that people derisively changed her name from the Monte J to the Monument J. A 28-foot S2 8.5 whose owner lost interest in her, she waited silently for someone new. It finally happened. Doug Dippert bought the boat in late August of 2000 and began the process of bringing her back. He washed off the dirt, stepped the mast, checked out the motor, and prepared her for her first sail in more than six years. Maybe she felt she had forgotten how to swim. Maybe she literally attached herself to the trailer, or maybe it was just low water.
Whatever the reason, it took four people swimming around her, pulling on lines and a great deal of swearing and coaxing to finally pull her free of the trailer. Once floating, her instincts took hold. She sat on her lines showing all of the class and speed of her lineage.
At the Branched Oak Marina, I didn’t have a slip available for her at the time, so the Monte J was assigned a mooring ball. Like a thoroughbred tied to a tree rather than in a comfortable stall, she paced back and forth nervously. If the wind was blowing, she was moving. One day the wind kicked up to a nice breeze. She paced so frantically that I mentioned to someone that once the wind died down I should recheck her mooring pendant. Later, when I went up the hill to my apartment, the Monte J broke loose. A three- to four-ton boat in 15 to 20 knots of wind in a crowded marina should have been a formula for disaster.
With no one on board and her sails covered, the Monte J sailed from her mooring and gently parked for some time in the only empty slip available. Another sailor, who was below in his boat, came up and noticed that she was in a slip. He asked himself why I would let a 28-foot boat tie up in a slip designed for nothing bigger than a 25- footer, shrugged his shoulders, and went below.
No damage
I don’t know how long she stayed in this slip. I do know that she did not hit any other boats, picked the only empty slip, didn’t damage the slip or put a scratch on her hull. Not bad for an old girl who had not sailed for six years.
Her day’s sail was not over. She backed out of the slip and headed east across the bay. That was when I saw her. I had just come out of my apartment and saw her sailing on a starboard tack. No one on board, no sails . . . there was just the spirit of the Monte J. A fine sailer she is, but only fair as a navigator. She missed jetties and rocky shoreline, but finally the shoals got her, and she stuck her keel firmly into a muddy bottom.
Several of us, including Doug, kedged the boat out of the mud. She had hit with such force and the wind was continuing to push against her so hard that it required a surprising amount of power to pull her into deeper water. Once she was floated, Doug was like a parent angered at a child who had misbehaved — yet secretly proud of her spunk. I asked him what he wanted to do and remember him saying, “I think she really wants to go for a sail.”
And how she sailed! Up and down this small lake we went. You could almost feel her joy of freedom. There is a message here someplace. Maybe about being lonely and found, patient and rewarded, or dilapidated and restored; take what you can or want, or take nothing at all, but if you see the Monte J sailing, check to see if anyone is at the helm.”
The Monte J was owned by Doug Dippert and sailed at Branched Oak Lake near Lincoln, Nebraska. She was later restored and renamed Beau Geste. Author John Phillips recently wrote to say, “Her orphaned past continues. She has changed hands twice since she was the Monte J and is now called Pretty Girl3. She is owned by Norm Agena of Lincoln, Nebraska.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
