Christmas Parade

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Letter from Periauger:

Hertford, Sunday, December 6, 2004

The Hertford Christmas Parade

Well life does get good sometimes, even for a boat on a trailer. Here’s the story of the Hertford Parade

After five weeks of resting nicely at my own special dock in downtown Hertford, John and the crew hauled me out. They unstepped my masts easily with the nifty new A-frame rig that Champ Cox built, took me to the Newbold-white House museum, re-stepped my masts (the one good hollow and one of the solid) and left me to have a cover made (it’s about time!). A cover craftsman by the name of Chad came by a couple of times to measure me for a full cover and for two sail covers. Is this my gift for what the humans call “Christmas”? Being a Quaker family’s boat, I’m not used to celebrating Christmas, but I’ll put up with it.

The other day (John tells me that was Saturday, December 4^th, whatever that means) Don Johnson, Terry Facey, Barbara and Rod Mueller, Janet Benton and John came by in the morning (the sun was still over my port stern). I had no idea what they were going to do, but tried not to get my hopes up. They measured from the ground up to some point on my hollow mast – saying something about a “clearance” under some “traffic lights.”

They took down my masts, using Champ’s A-frame. Then they measured and cut right through my hollow mast! Yikes! They brought out the broken hollow mast and cut it the same way. Holy scuppers! What the typhoon were they doing? (At least they had the sense to not cut my solid masts.)

So, while I sat there on the trailer feeling helpless and upset, they proceeded to put some rigging on the sawed off hollow masts, and then put them aboard and stepped both of them. I felt a little better then, although not totally reassured that they knew what they were doing. Those masts sure are stubby. I never was a “tall ship” but now I was definitely a “short ship.”

They took out some ballast bags, put on four sweeps, put the furled sails on the masts, draped some pine tree greens around my sides, and left me on the trailer to go get some “pizza.” When they came back, more people had arrived – Noel and Myra McKechie, owners of my old friend M/V Kiwi Magic (from the Odyssey), Anne and Richard Haas, the McKechie’s two golden retrievers, and Ann Jones. Ann had brought along Ruby Bateman, who has an avid interest in Periauger and is a petite and energetic seventy-something.

Everyone got dressed in 1730’s Quaker outfits (over their clothes, to keep warm; some said they felt like 18^th century Michelin men). They followed me in their cars out onto the highway over to the local high school. Paul Hunt was towing me and did so gently and slowly.

At the high school I could here some music playing and saw lots of young musicians in uniforms, and all kinds of colorful structures on other trailers and trucks. Before I knew it, everyone climbed aboard me (including the two dogs) and we started moving down the road at a walking pace in line with these other people and trucks. Of course, I was the only boat, so felt rather special. They called this a “parade.”

The music behind us made everyone on board tap their feet on my seats and floorboards, and that added to the excitement. The sun was shining and people were hollering back and forth about having a “Merry Christmas.” John and Terry put Ruby and Ann (who are rather short) up on two of my rum barrels. As we went down the main street, we were announced and applauded! What a great day!

Well I’m back at the Newbold-White House now, but still have my “parade” masts up and the garland still hangs around my rail. Some people came by to take photos of their family with me in the background. It is nice to be needed.

Now I await my Christmas gift – my cover. Then I’ll be OK for the winter.

Periauger

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