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THE HOUND, A TRIBUTE A few short years
ago I, the Captain, wrote a riveting article about sailing to the This year things
were quite different. The Captain and Peter, a friend from the club, sailed
the former Naiad I down the lake starting on a Monday and arriving in Gananoque by Friday. On the following day, the Admiral
and the Hound were to arrive by car and spend the next two blissful weeks in
the islands and sailing home. The former Naiad?
Yes. Naiad I is now Naiad IV due to a major (read expensive) refit and the
desire to name the boat with the proper spelling.. The previous owner
had registered the boat as Niad, but lettered it Naiad. As Peter and I
left port we were unaware that havoc was taking place at home. When the
Admiral returned from work that afternoon she was met by a very sick Hound.
The carpets were in a state of distress and a trip to the vet was the order
of the day. Upon reaching You have to
understand that the Hound is a landlubber and sailing on our boat or any boat
is a trial for the usually friendly and docile fur-ball. Did she know that
another two weeks sailing was just around the corner and this was a reaction
of anticipation? The happiest time of the year for her is just after haul-out
when she sees the boat sitting in its cradle. We live, not more than five
minutes from the club and when walking the dog we hit an intersection where
turning right is the way to the boat. Many people must wonder as this hound
dog digs in with all four paws
and tries to claw her way along the straight and narrow.
At CFB Trenton Yacht Club, a friendly but weedy stop, we heard about
day two at home, which was worse than day one. By Prinyer’s
Cove and day three it seemed that the Hound was not going to make it. Day
four, in car, was looking a
lot thinner but the tail was wagging at 60 knots. For the next week
we cruised through the islands and then headed home. The Hound enjoyed plenty
of sniffance throughout the trip and she seemed to
be fine again. On our last day, while we were off Port Credit, disaster
struck as the medicine’s effects wore off and the cockpit resembled the
carpets in our house. When arrived home we were in time for another trip to
the vet and another bill for antibiotics and prescription food.
We weathered that storm but not the next. Bailey, our favourite hound was not able to shake the effects of old
age. Just prior to her fourteenth birthday we had to say goodbye. Our next trip
will be just the Admiral and the Captain, but in our mind’s eye we will
always see the Hound curled up between the cabin bulkhead and the cockpit coaming, shaking slightly, staring at us with doleful
eyes and the “I don’t know why you’re torturing me like
this,” expression. Then, when we arrive at our destination for the day,
running around with her nose to the ground, having a nasal hemorrhage with
all the new and unusual scents that prevail in the far-off exotic lands of
the
* Pat & Lionel Redford, from Bronte Harbour
Yacht Club, have provided a
number of articles for the readers of GAM.
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Copyright 2001 GAM on Yachting. All rights
reserved. |
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