Fall Road Trips

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	*Letter from Periauger:* Hertford, Sunday, December 6, 2004 My Life As a “Roadie” in September and October I haven’t had much luck getting my commander to write for me in a while, but now that he has sat down with his laptop in hand, I can dictate my latest stories. (It’s not that he has ignored me. He checks on me a lot, but we haven’t had much time to sit and chat.) On September 18^th, John Ernst (my commander) along with Ken Ries and Don Johnson, took me out of the water at my dock in Hertford and trailered me (yuck!) to Elizabeth City for a drizzly day of sitting on the trailer (my commander called it a “static exhibit” – a fancy word for “boring”), while my friends the Moth Boats had all the fun sailing in blowing rain out in the harbor. John never stepped my masts, so I felt undressed. The same twenty people who came to look at the Museum of the Albemarle displays came over to look at me. They looked pretty miserable, but seemed to take an interest in my crew and me. Not a great day. Things got better the following Friday [September 24^th, he says], however, when John and the crew launched me at a ramp on Yeopim Creek. It was a warm, sunny day (these human wimps don’t like taking me out on rainy days) with a gentle breeze. With my old friends from the Odyssey, Kent Saunders and Champ Cox, plus Bill Jackson (whom I had not seen since he had helped make my masts and sweeps), Anne Haas (who arranged for my arrival in Hertford), Phil How, Janet Benton and Jeffrey Russell, John sailed me down the river, past a big marina with a whole fleet of modern plastic boats, and out into the Sound for a lovely sail. After an hour of gorgeous freedom for me, they brought me back and managed to sail in for a smooth landing (no groundings or collisions this time; they’re getting better). After enjoying several human visitors before sunset, I spent the night at the dock, with a gaggle of geese for company. The next day – September 25^th - was the Albemarle Plantation Challenge Regatta. There were sailboats all over, getting ready to race that afternoon. I wanted to meet the other boats, but their captains were too busy and tense with preparations for the race. But then fortune smiled on me again. John and Joan took me out, along with Peg Huffman, Virginia Johnson, Barbara Mueller and my old friends Claude and Yvonne Milot, to sail near one of the turning marks of the regatta. What a great bird’s eye view of the race. I was a little jealous. I spent the evening at the dock while all the racers partied under a tent near the dockmaster’s tower. Then another night with the geese – who are OK for a short visit but sure can be an annoying pain in the stern after an hour or so of constant chatter! They never sleep! The next day John, Joan and Barbara took me on a gentle sail up Yeopim Creek to the launch ramp. We hated for it to end. Paul Hunt showed up to haul me out and take me back to Hertford. (They left me on the trailer again, but I had Ann Jones to keep me company every day.) On October 2^nd, Champ Cox came to haul me away on a trip (by trailer – again) to a wooden boat show in Plymouth. After a nasty hour behind John Mohr’s SeaTow truck, they parked me near some other old boats and wooden replicas along the Roanoke River. We shared a lot of great stories about our ancestors and some not so great stories about living with humans. I was relatively fortunate because Champ and some other guys stepped my masts so I would look presentable. Ann Jones, who is so sweet and enthusiastic and on whom I seem to have a nautical crush, was there in costume to interpret. It rained a lot, but I was back home in time for a gorgeous sunset. John and the crew put me in the water a few days later and there I stayed until the Hertford Christmas Parade. But that’s another story. Periauger

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