|Topic Review (Newest First)|
|05-15-2006 11:50 AM|
I am sorry to report that there is only
one cure for this type of infection.
|05-12-2006 12:01 PM|
I spent some of my developing years on a Grampian 26. My dad bought the boat new and I remember seeing it coming to the marina on a truck. Dad might even have an old color slide of it somewhere. She was Hull #35 and she was shipped with her sister ship, which I believe was Hull #34.
Ours (#35) was blue gelcoat with a white deck and was originally named Pharos, after the ancient Eygyptian, great wonder lighthouse. The other boat had a red hull and a white deck. The owners named her "Red Baron", a reference to the "Peanuts" craze that was going on at the time. Their dinghy (an old Sportyak, if anyone remembers them) was called Snoopy.
For a couple of years, the two boats shared a dock at Ford Yacht Club, on Grosse Isle. We were in the East basin and I believe our dock # was 44. I used to be stuck down below on Saturday nights with my little black and white TV, watching Carol Burnett and Mary Tyler Moore while my parents socialized.
Wish I could comment more on the sailing, but I was just a kid and only a passenger, for the most part. I remember my dad commenting that "she tracks like a freight train". He raced her on most Sundays and she made a few trips to Put-In-Bay (a popular Lake Erie island, for those out of area).
I do remember one day, standing out in front of the yacht club with a large group of very worried adults, waiting for the racers to get in on a very bad day. I don't know exactly how bad it was but never have I seen so many worried people waiting for boats to arrive. Everytime a boat was spotted through the mist, people would strain to determine who it was. Once identified, one small group would head to their dock and the rest of us would continue to watch the horizon for "our" boat. Everyone made it in OK.
Sailing in the Grampian was always a joy for me. I remember laughing at my sisters', tough guy, Vietnam vet, boyfriend who got seriously wide-eyed when the boat started heeling over. The usual course was out to the Detroit Light and back. My older brother and sister hated being stuck on the boat but I always wanted to stay out longer. Mom used to spend most sails, sitting on the low side, back to the cabin, reading her book, seemingly totally oblivious to anything going on around her.
Unfortunately, my dad sold the boat when I was 13 and bought a motorcycle. He still rides and doesn't seem much interested in sailing anymore. I can't seem to de-stress fully on land so NEED a sailboat for my own sanity. Probably corrupted for life by those Grampian summers.