August 19, 1982 - Summer Slipping BySECOND SECTION
Summer Slipping isy 1
01 hr l� YUtY111
Sometimes when things get too hectic
around the place, Barbara and I dash off to
spend a day away from home. Usually it's
just an overnight sail to a nearby cove to
have dinner, then to bed and back home
the next day. We took one of these
overnighters recently, and it couldn't have
worked out better.
When we purchased our present boat, it
came with a lot of extras the previous
owner had acquired, things I'd never have
bought but like most of us because they're
there we'll use them. This theory applied
and worked well with the exception of one
item -- an aqua barbecue. I enjoy the
traditional and just couldn't see any boat
that I owned having a barbecue hanging
off its stern! It lay buried beneath old
rakes and garden equipment out in the
garage.
Of course, things don't always work out
the way you plan them or should I say
hide them. Barbara, who is a great cook,
revived the idea and wanted to know
where the barbecue was; she wanted to
do some special cooking on it. No
argument seemed to hold much ground
with her and so our overnight trip the other
day found the barbecue packed up in an old
paper bag along with our other supplies.
Perhaps she'd see how awkward it would
be and might not press its being put into
use.
We never did get started until late that
day. It was past six when we rowed out to
the boat. Everyone had left the beaches
and there were only two sails on the bay
still trying to squeeze out the last bit of
enjoyment of the day. Sails were up in no
time and we soon found ourselves sailing
quietly as the sun lowered in the west.
When we arrived, we were surprised to
find others had the same thoughts as we.
There were boats of all sorts swinging into
the wind. We selected a spot away from
everyone and dropped the anchor. The
lead chain clattered for a moment and
then there was quiet. We, too, now headed
up into the wind on a taut line.
Backed Into a Corner
I had hoped to find Barbara down below
getting dinner ready but no she was
scanning the boats around us. Did she see
someone she knew? "Look ", she said,
"every one of those boats has a barbecue
over the stern. Look there, you can see a
man cooking dinner." I was lost. I knew
from that moment on we had to try out that
contraption.
But, ah, there was a good wind blowing
and my hopes were that perhaps we
couldn't get it started. These hopes, too
were soon dashed when Barbara came up
with a bag of charcoal and announced it
was the easy- starting kind that had the
starter built in. All I could think was that it
was a far cry from the old fires of years
ago on the beach when we made them of
9 @ (�,
__
driftwood and kindling found along the
shore.
We had previously stopped down the
road at Pete's Vegetable Stand to pick up
some fresh corn, one of the true delights
our area produces all summer long. She'd
also gotten a handful of new small potatoes
which she was scrubbing down below.
"Get the barbecue out and start the fire,"
she called up. I did and sure enough the
darn stuff took right off and the additional
wind I had counted on only enhanced its
burning. I almost didn't want anyone to
see me. A barbecue off the stern of my
boat! What's this world coming to!
Soon aluminum packages sealed tightly
came from down below. Three small packs
of new potatoes cut in small pieces along
with a lump of butter in each went on the
fire. Ten minutes later four big ears of
corn, still in their green husks with silk
removed, came up wrapped tightly in
aluminum foil so no moisture could get
out. These just about took up all the room
on the grill. Every five minutes or so I'd
turn the corn and potatoes a quarter turn.
This thing was working out beautifully. I
didn't want to admit it, but it was.
Next: The Entree
When Barbara thought the corn was just
about ready, I made room by moving
things around on the grill and we put on
two beautiful big hamburgers. These were
not just hamburgers, they were
practically meatloaves. They were full of
all sorts of secret things she had put in and
what a difference it made.
Later as we sat with chilled white wine
and the most elegant corn you could ask
for, I had to admit it the new barbecue
wasn't half bad. Perhaps I could find a
place for it aft. After all, it did fold up into
a pretty small package.
As we sat in the darkness, we talked of
the summer and realized how fast it was
moving on. The empty robin and oriole
nests in the front yard helped vouch for
this. Even now the young robins were
tasting their first wild black cherries,
which fruit in August. Soon they would be
on their own.
We'd seen shore birds flying west as we
sailed over. They'd been moving from
their north nesting grounds for over a
month now and their migration will take
them as far away as South America.
The night was cool and the wind still
TWOMEY LATIL M
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ATTORNEYS- AT -I,AW
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August 19,1982
FRESH CORN - -There is no better buy and no better taste than corn
grown right here on the East End. Here Pete Kujawski brings in corn for
his stand. Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
blew fresh out of the northwest. We better
shut down the deck hatches or we'd
literally freeze with the summer blankets
we had aboard. The sky was a blaze of
stars and we were alone in our own little
world. Things that seemed so important
and pressing back home seemed trivial
here. Sleep would come easy. The last I
remembered was the water lapping gently
on the hull.
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