A string of thought by Wheeler Bay Program Manager Mathew Porter

Alongside the dock, Danny Wiggins pulls the bow line from the cleat and Sally M bobs outward, I take the stern line and do the same, and at once she is free. We swing her around, gently until her bow faces the shallow ramp where at the top of it waits Chris Wells in his yellow machine. Still holding the stern line, I give the gunwhale a firm shove and Danny steps on, his eyes on the dock ahead. With a cool toss the bow line falls into Chris’s waiting hands, and he pulls Sally M alongside. Danny steps off and quickly he is at the crank wheel and begins methodically to run out the chain that will pull Sally M out of the water and onto the trailer. Meanwhile Chris Wells points proudly to the support beams glowing a dim silver below the murky water, explaining how they were welded for strength and durability and promptly he rolls up his dungarees to the knee and leaps onto the hitch, grabs the chain hook from Danny and attaches it to the bow ring. Thusly the gear is cranked, and Sally M groans slowly towards the ramp at a slight incline, her keel rubs against the blue wheels of the trailer, her elegant lines now revealed and the late September sun refracts through the dark water, the green hairs of sea slime and tiny barnacles now exposed to the crisp air that hints of a quick and early fall. Once she is pulled in tight with the bow line tied off to a cleat, Chris in his machine expertly begins to remove her from the water, and slowly, slowly her entire body is exposed and free of the water and she is towed up to the road where we begin the work of removing her accoutrements, and once she is nearly bare on towards the boat house she is carried, slowly along the gravel road where we rest her upon blue stilts and we make sure she is level. John McBride joins us with the pressure washer and Danny begins to attack the green slime covering her worn and red keel with enthusiasm, I follow with a bristle brush and as the ritual commences we have pulled her plugs and so she is displacing old sea water like an hourglass, and we comment on this as fair weather kayakers timidly pass us by on their way towards the bay. Out of the water, joining the rest of her sisters on land, their purposes fulfilled at least for a while, there is a proud elegance about her disposition, resting upon those stilts she speaks of windy days and quiet nights at anchor, of jarring crossings in heavy fog and endless tacks, of oars laid out across her to accommodate brave and tired watches, smears of hummus and peanut butter worn into her wood, her shrouds bearing the weight of persons leaning and milling about. And to her credit she has bore it with absolute steadfastness, a vessel so adequately designed to fulfill a purpose. She is not boastful, for she knows she is only as good as the persons who pilot her, who learn from her and get to know her. She remains completely relevant yet at the same time bears resemblance of a relic, a relic of a time past, where the spirit, indefatigable emanated, and compassion flowed and made waves, and when that wave broke, cresting and then breaking against the shore, breaking violently and following out with the decanted truth of reality threatened by evildoers and time itself, the ghost of Heraclitus watches on. And so it goes-Sally M is no relic, she’s in her prime, in need only of a fresh coat of paint, and thusly outfitted she along with her sisters will continue to serve those who board her, and in her cockpit she provides refuge and reflection and so it goes on. On lowering her main and mizzen we take special care, and we cradle the beams like some ancient material and we admire our teamwork as both masts are laid softly along the deck. We dismount and soon after Danny places her under shelter to await her refurbishing and her next watch. And as long as we keep believing in her, and the power of her lessons, we will thrive. Surely a craft as well designed as her would agree that in order to stay relevant we must adapt, make changes and continue to believe in the ultimate possibilities of the human spirit. So sally forth, brave harbingers of the new age, between these gunwhales and belowdecks cradle the spirit and dispel all evil and hate, make those pillars gospel, and as the wind fills your sails so we fill this troubled world with hope.” 

m.p. 9/28/21