Concussions On The Water
(Photo courtesy of Team Oracle – Americas Cup Trials)
Concussions to the head have become a hot topic. Football, hockey, and soccer players are learning of the peril of brain injuries. And yes, concern about concussions has reached those of us at Write On The Water. After all, we live in an environment of swinging sailboat booms, sliding cockpit hatches, and low ceiling berths. And even land-based writers eventually fall victim as they navigate through an unlit house after hours of late night writing.
In some cases, these hits to the head get recognized only years later. Such is the case of a noggin knock I had back in the 80s when I was replacing the stem on our old wooden sailboat, Factor X.
The original stem, installed in 1946, had rot near the waterline which suggested that the old curved piece of oak needed to be replaced. Removing that piece of wood was no easy feat. First, I sanded down the most forward planks that overlapped the stem. Next, I used a chisel to chip-out the bungs. (On land they're called wooden plugs; ship builders call them bungs, primarily, I believe, because this allows them to use the noun bung-hole.) Finally, I removed the old screws. To give you a sense of this undertaking, let me just say that this required a matter of weeks, not hours. For every screw that twisted out easily, four more would spin in place, requiring all kinds of alternative efforts at extraction. In all, there were probably seventy-five to one-hundred fasteners embedded by salt, corrosion, and age.
The part of this job I recall most involved some very large screws near the stem's crown, set inside the toe rail. There I stood, on the top of a tall step ladder, ten or twelve feet in the air, as I worked on getting those damn screws out. They weren't budging. Screwdrivers, needle nose pliers, vice grips – nothing worked. Finally, I resorted to a small eighteen inch crowbar.
I remember pulling hard on that metal crowbar. Really hard. So hard that my body was arching back as if I were leaning into a Triple Lindy. Still the screws wouldn't come out. But if persistence is a quality that serves a writer, it definitely aids a boat builder. I pulled even harder and really put my back into it.
The next moments seemed to happen in slow motion. I can't say for sure, but I believe the sun was out and the day warm, and at this otherwise uneventful moment I stood at the very top of that step ladder and yanked with all my might. My hands were at head height and I pulled. As it turned out, the resulting force was sufficient to remove the entrenched screw. In fact, it was so sufficient that the bronze fastener started coming out with ease and now all of that backward leaning energy was about to send me falling from this high perch. In an instant, I shifted my weight forward to avoid a fall. I managed to stay on the ladder. That was the good news. The bad news was my head managed to come into instant contact with the crowbar. The entire sequence went something like, whoa, whoa, bang, whoa, wobble, wobble, wow.
This event took place quite a while ago, but if memory serves me I first checked for blood, then for witnesses. Seeing a little of both, but not too much of either, I staggered down the ladder and took a break.
Later that day, I got back up and eventually all of the fasteners came out and the stem was replaced, and in time (lots of time, actually), the boat was ready for the water. Looking back at this, I am now thinking that there just might be a need for wooden boat helmets, or perhaps writers' helmets, or even sailing helmets. You think I jest? Take a look at the future.
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(Courtesy of Sailnet.com)
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