September 18, 1980 - An Overnight Sailternber 18, 1980
The *Uffolk Timex
An Overnight Sail
Most will agree that September is one of
our finest months of the year. It almost
seems to fill the body with a new
exuberance. The air we breathe and the
coolness of the temperature are the
catalysts thai make us anew. We're ready
for all sorts of adventures -- the problem
being which to do first.
This was solved for us when friends
called and said they had a vacation day
left and were going sailing, would we like
to go? Well, being a part of that vast group
of "I'd rather be sailing" people, we
dropped all our plans, collected our gear
and headed out to the boat. We rendezvous-
ed on the east side of Nassau Point and
from there headed east under a strong
southwest wind.
The air had seemed to change its
mixture of high humidity to one of delight.
The white sails seemed to feel the differ-
ence also as they tugged at the lines,
bA.owing out in great arcs of white. It
seemed even the water sparkled in a more
brilliant manner. We were at one with the
space about us.
Looking back at it now, I'm sure if it
were all analyzed under strict laboratory
xon:Ildons you would find it was us and
not the sea and air that had changed. We
were sailing on a high of spirit. We all have
these experiences in one way or another; a
rewarding visit with a friend, the exhilara-
tion from some great piece of music, the
excitement of a trip, the joy of a job well
done, the list is endless. The key of course
is to pick the situation and profit by it.
Halfway down the bay a long string of
cormorants headed for their wintering
grounds somewhere way to the south of us.
Perhaps this was a group that had nested
somewhere on the shores of Nova Scotia or
on the rugged rocky islands off the Maine
coast. What we do know is that these birds,
like others, pay little attention to the
boundaries of state or country. We have
much to gain from their international
spirit for if the world is ever to survive and
not exterminate itself, we surely must get
along with all.
Migration Still Mystery
The cormorants were not to be the only
signs of the changing season. By the time
we had headed around the buoy off Jessups
we could see small flocks of shore birds
winging their way low along the water.
How intent and deliberate was their flight.
Their little bodies, plump and fat, had been
supplied with the material necessary to
make the long trip south which would
eventually wind up along the shores of the
Caribbean or in the far -off lands of South
America, with some going as far south as
Argentina. There, like all birds, they
would rest and fatten up again for the
return trip in the spring. Migration is still
a mystery to the best of researchers but
slowly, ever so slowly, we are putting the
puzzle together. Sun and stars, the length
of days, magnetism and gravity and a
whole gamut of unknowns are fed into
these tiny birds' computers so that they
know their way and perform in the most
remarkable and mysterious manner.
Jessups, which is now the Morton
Sanctuary, stood out from the south shore
somewhat like our Nassau Point stands out
on the north shore into Peconic Bay. Now
held for posterity, it will go down in history
as a tribute to a thinking people. A
monument that for all time all people can
enjoy. This concept is very similar to that
now being proposed for Robins Island.
When it's all over what better tribute to
people who thought not of themselves but
of the future generations to come?
Fresh winds are what sailing is all
about. The boat heeling over and charging
through the ever - moving water is some-
thing that excites every sailor. Shelter
Island is just ahead with its beautiful west
creek and North Haven is to the south.
With the wind blowing in the rigging we
continue on through the narrows where we
could see the Shelter Island ferries shut-
tling back and forth like miniature boats.
We felt a bit smug as we sailed by, waving
to the passengers, knowing all too well that
some must have wished they were sailing
Page 19
SANDERLING- -These small
shore birds are but one of many
species that use our shores for
refueling and rest on their rigor-
ous migration south.
Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
too and not tied to their particular
schedule.
We passed Majors Cove off Mashomack,
known to yachtsmen as a favorite spot, but
Sag Harbor is where we were headed.
To Be Continued Next Week
PAULSTOUTENBURGH
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