Winter Archives - Biting the Bullet

It’s winter!

It’s winter, and we don’t really care whether that over-glorified February-the-second rodent saw his shadow or not, because all realistic indications point to winter being with us for many weeks to come. And, as lovers of all things nautical, we at Getting Nauti get kind of depressed during the depths of winter because this season puts a damper on maritime fun.

Sure, you folks who live in southern California or Florida pretty much enjoy the nautical lifestyle for 12 months of the year. However, the rest of us schmucks have to endure what seems to be an annual eternity of cold temperatures, freezing water, dark skies, ice, and—for those of us in the northern climes—that white stuff that looks oh-so-pretty-when-it-first-blankets-the-ground but after lingering for weeks on end starts looking like the frozen crust of nuclear fallout.

Winter—Blah!

Just the thought of it in late summer made us quit watching Game of Thrones so we wouldn’t have to hear that annoying catch-phrase “Winter is coming!” That harbinger of winter, that first frost, brings tears to our eyes as it marks the end of the nautical season. And that first snowfall, the one in which just about everyone exclaims, “Oh, how pretty!,” has us envisioning a flamethrower melting the white spawn of Satan before it can touch the ground.

OK, OK, so we’re getting a bit melodramatic here….

But we can’t help it because by mid-February we are so done with winter, and so ready to get back to getting nauti! Not gonna happen, though, because we’ve got endless weeks and weeks to go, no matter how that aforementioned rodent calls it.

So this got us thinking: what kind of nautical-minded fun can we have in spite of winter’s ravages? Lo and behold, after a bit of research we discovered that there are all kinds of winter-time maritime activities one can enjoy. Maybe winter doesn’t suck after all. Let’s check them out:

Frostbite Sailing— Heck, we thought everyone up north pulled their sailboats out of the water in the fall, but it turns out that a dozen or so northern communities from Boston to Maryland engage in sailboat racing all year. “Frostbiting,” they call it with good reason. And yeah, we can just imagine the joys of sailing into 20-knot subzero winds, sleet and snow; moving about on frozen decks while dressed in so many layers one can hardly move; and handling lines so cold that they feel like they’re about to cut through your gloves and into your flesh.

Ice Diving— Everyone pretty much pictures tropical coral reefs when thinking about SCUBA diving, but some hard-core divers take it to the extreme by diving through a hole in the ice during the depths of winter. In fact, some divers are so gung-ho that they pay big bucks to break through arctic ice to explore the coldest underwater environments. Don’t try this at home, though kids, as ice diving requires specialized equipment and probably a bit of training to account for unfamiliar cold water considerations. You know, like how to successfully do it without freezing to death.

Surf Fishing the Freeze— Many die-hard surf fishermen swear that they can pull in just as many game fish in February as they can during spring or fall runs. On beaches from Massachusetts to North Carolina you can find these brave fishermen facing the freezing onshore wind and sleet while angling for a striper, blue, drum, flounder or any number of other prime catches. If you meet one of these eager anglers try to take note of how many fingers he has as he waxes poetic about the 20-pound striper he caught off Cape May during the height of last winter’s blizzard.

Cold Weather Surfing— Cowabunga! Piping Hot! Surf’s Up, Baby…. Especially in the winter when “gnarly” waves might take on a whole new meaning when you add some baby icebergs. But get amped, because surfers who live in eskimo-like climates swear winter surfing is the best. Just ask the locals who live near Windmill Bight, Newfoundland; Tofino, British Columbia; Lawrencetown, Nova Scotia; Higgins Beach, Maine; Lofoten, Norway; or Punta de Lobos, Chile. They don’t let a bit of snow, wind, ice or frostbite snake their waves.

Polar Bear Swimming— Those crazy neighbours of ours to the north in the land of ice, moose, beavers, Mounties and Eskimos, have engaged in this traditional activity for more than a hundred years as a fun way to ring in the New Year. And while some American groups have adopted this hypothermic pastime for charitable purposes, those crazy Canucks just do it for the fun of it, to the point where just about any winter holiday or event marks a good reason to jump into the frozen ocean. Heck, they probably jump into the ocean on Feb. 2, to honor that stupid overgrown gerbil.

Well that pretty much wraps up our research findings of winter-time nautical fun. What d’ya think, can any of these pastimes cure the winter blues for those of us dreaming of a nautical summer?

Yeah, no! Winter still sucks….

—Written for and published by “Getting Nauti” in the winter of 2017.

—March 2, 2016

It is an especially cold mid-winter day. The type day that gave reason to mammalian hibernation, as just trying keep warm in the cold of the open air would rapidly deplete an animal’s fat reserves. So cold that birds are reluctant to fly and the briny water of the harbour has iced over, encasing docks and mooring balls in a steely grip.

Any thoughts of boating quickly turn to thoughts of hypothermia and speculation as to how many minutes—or would that be seconds?—one might survive from an accidental spill overboard into the open waters. Thoughts of boating also quickly bring forth the image of the lonely boatyard, some 300 boats enshrouded in tarps and plastic, that are further covered with a thin layer of crusty snow. The place so still that it seems if the boats have been sitting there for years, like the headstones of a centuries-old cemetery.

But no, life will return to the boatyard, and in just two long months the first of them will be launched and the boating season begin again with the first whisperings of spring.

This idea of a “boating season” is something folks in the deep south and out on the southwest coast don’t have to contend with, as their boating season is year round. And yes, we boaters up here in the cold northern climates are envious. We miss our boats during the long winter season and sometimes wish we lived in a place where it’s possible to jump on one’s boat and take a toot on a warm (what’s that?) February day.

Sometimes….

We relish our short season, and with the annual changing of the seasons get to experience an elation that would be entirely foreign to you deep south and southwest coast boaters. It’s an elation equivalent to that experienced by children on Christmas morning—boundless joy over the promise of all the foreseen and unforeseen boating of the season yet to come.

It happens every year in mid to late April, after I get the call that my boat has been launched, rigged, and is ready to go. As soon as work permits, I load my truck with sails, sheets and the minimum gear needed for safety and comfort, and head to the boatyard. It is always a solo venture, as I like to savour the season’s first outing—that trip from the marina to my dock—alone, just me and my boat.

I am usually just about shaking with excitement by the time I climb onboard. And though the boat always seems quite the mess, what with mold in the cabin and the deck dirty with grit from the rigger’s shoes, discarded tape and broken clevis pins, it doesn’t bother me as my annual cleaning later in the week is just part of the overall spring ritual. I check the rigging and lines and inspect the boat from bow to stern, mentally checking off all the things that will need to be done to prepare for the season’s successful voyaging. The engine and its fluids are checked, and then the starter pushed, which will bring a smile to my face upon hearing the familiar sputter of the Yanmar diesel. The engine tested and ready for action, the sails will be hanked on next, a job much easier with two, but one I do happily alone, just me and my boat.

When all seems ready and I can cast off and head for my harbour, I crack open a beer and pause to enjoy the boat sitting quietly on the mooring. I look around at the few other boats that have been launched, all in various stages of readiness. I try to just relax and enjoy the beer, but the season has begun and I need to feel the boat move. So I cast off and put her into gear and head out of the harbor. If there is a favorable breeze I will unfurl the jib once I’m in open waters, and sail for my harbor, but if not, no bother as I am content to motor with the knowledge that there will be many months of sailing ahead.

It is the best day of the year, and the elation I feel while heading for my harbour—just me and my boat—makes the change of seasons and months-long absence of boating worth it.

—Originally published in February by slidemoor.com.