December 2006 Updated January 1, 2011

Notes from the Old Noank Jail

My Sailing Adventures

by Ed Johnson

When my wife and I bought our Noank house in 1971, we had dreams of having a boat, sailing all around Fisher’s Island Sound, doing overnights at Block Island and in general becoming weekend adventurers. We had journeyed with other experienced sailors when we were younger, so naturally there would be no problem for us to take up sailing again.

Our first acquisition was a used 14′ Sunfish…basically an overgrown surfboard with a triangular sail plus a small foot well which made it easier to shift my large rear end from side to side. It also had a rudder which was difficult to operate if not latched down properly, requiring frequent attention. My maiden vacation voyage in the Noank anchorage area began on a bright, sunny weekday with very light wind, no tidal movement and no other boats moving in the channel.

I maneuvered close among the boats moored in the anchorage, as I had seen other sailors do, priding myself on how easily I controlled my course in the light air. Suddenly, POOF, a wind gust caught me off guard, spinning my boat so it was now aimed directly at a lovely wooden 30 foot sailboat resting peacefully on a mooring. I released the main sheet to let sail out, but my boat didn’t slow down. Worse, the rudder wouldn’t respond and to my horror, I looked back and saw that it had become unlatched and was rising out of the water whenever I moved the tiller.

CRUNCH. My bow hit the sailboat square amidships, putting a deep hole through a plank just above the waterline. Unfortunately, the other boat owner had been taking a nap below, with his head no more than a foot away from the point of impact. He came topsides very fast and very angry, loudly called me unpleasant names, made inappropriate reference to my mother, remarked on my intelligence and sailing abilities, and then quickly motored to Orion Ford’s dock for assistance.

To make a long story short, we arranged for the very talented Paul Deschenes of Noank to replace the broken plank so properly that it was as if the accident had never happened. However, my sailing reputation took a serious hit because some neighborhood teenagers heard of the incident and…hooting with laughter…now referred to our boat as “Ramfish.” One of them actually presented me with a large, leather belt with carved inscriptions reading “Skipper of Ramfish” along with a clever little cartoon showing my boat smashed into the other boat, my rudder raised up, $$$ signs floating in the air, me holding my head in my hands, embarrassed, with the other boat owner shaking his fist and screaming at me.

Not surprisingly, Ramfish was quickly sold, defective rudder included. We then sailed as guests with friends for quite a while (avoiding the helm, of course) and later partnered with another couple in purchasing a wooden 12′ Beetlecat sailboat. We felt safe sailing with our friends but learned quickly that (a) the wind frequently dies down during late afternoons in direct proportion to (b) the amount of wine being consumed versus (c) the distance to the nearest bathrooms on shore (no, there are no bathrooms on a Beetlecat). We therefore purchased a small outboard motor for emergencies and I felt more secure after that. In fact, I really liked the idea of being prepared for the unexpected on the high seas and proceeded to stock the boat accordingly.

Then, on one occasion, after some arm twisting performed by so called friends, I actually raced the Beetlecat, accompanied by another fellow who came on board at the last minute because there was no room on any other competing boats. He didn’t inspect my boat at all because we were in a hurry and, right away, our goals became very different. He wanted to win at all costs whereas I was focused on just surviving the races and not hitting other boats (once had been enough). After we came in dead last with me at the helm, I turned it over to “Captain Bligh” and let him take charge. Then I simply cowered as far forward as I could, close to the wine supply, praying for a big thunderstorm to end the second race early, but to no avail.

After almost ramming a competitor, Captain Bligh managed to bring us in dead last again, very frustrated and puzzled by the fact that our boat seemed to move slower than the competition, which he initially blamed on my rather large size. But later, at the Yacht Club Award ceremonies, after a closer inspection of the forward section of our boat by the race committee, we were awarded a special prize for “having the most equipment on board.” This consisted of 2 boat anchors, 2 picnic coolers, 4 life jackets, 4 paddles, 2 CB radios, 2 bail buckets, 1 bailing pump, a folding porta-potti, 2 spare gasoline containers, 2 oil cans, 1 tool kit, 2 raincoats and one 3 HP long shaft outboard motor.

Time has passed. My wife and I now possess kayaks which rest comfortably on sawhorses in the back yard. We usually manage to take them out on the water at least once every year.