There must be 50 ways to get ashore.
I land on the middle of the bay’s long beach, in front of Phyllis’s supermarket, where also are a dive shop and a restaurant. Pulled up on the beach are a plastic beach kayak, an inflatable kayak, a surfboard with a paddle and a hard rowing dinghy. An outboard powered inflatable is nosed onto the beach with a line ashore. I pull my strange little sailing canoe up among them. There must be fifty ways to get ashore.
Really? Maybe. Different? By what criteria?
The bay I’m in has a wonderful assortment of dinghies and dinghy substitutes. Propulsion options include single paddle, kayak paddles, rowing, sculling, sailing and power. Most dinghy-sized vessels are monohull, but I’ve seen catamaran and trimaran too. Some hard dinghies look like a “proper“ dinghy, “a small open rowing boat,“ as defined by my dated sailing dictionary, boats of varying size, shape, configuration and construction. Some are little more than a plywood box. There are also fold boats, with bottom and side pieces gasketed together so that they fold flat for stowage. Once in a while you see a genuine dugout canoe.
Board boats range from surfboards and stand-up paddleboards to windsurfers and Sunfish and Laser types.
Other ways ashore range from swimming to watertaxis and beyond. I’ve seen a super yacht landing people with a helicopter and I once saw Jimmy Buffet land his seaplane off St. Georges and taxi in. It’s a long time since we’ve had a report of walking on water but I’ve grounded in depths shallow enough to wade ashore.
Or you could dock your yacht and simply step ashore.
Even swimming offers variations. A mask and snorkel make it more interesting, fins make it easier and a t-shirt or wetsuit might be desirable, even a close fitting lifejacket. A kickboard carrying your payload could be pushed or a drybag or float towed. And, of course, there is noodling.
Inflatables come in several categories, from pool-toys, inflatable kayaks and antique Avon Redcrests (from back when inflatables were called rafts, not dinghies) to removable-floorboard roll-ups, RIB’s and SUV’s (Sporty Utility Vessels with consoles, lockers, even biminis). A few inflatables can be rowed – depending on the wind. Their outboard motors can be electric, two or four stroke gasoline, even diesel. And there are a couple of inflatables that sail well.
A photomontage of differing methods would be fun. Fifty of them? An assortment that is novel, unique, visually interesting, preferably showing action? How could such photos be found? Post notices? A Compass Forum letter? Even once found, assembling a fifty-photo montage would be a project. I reminded myself that I’m a writer, not a photographer. Maybe someone else wants to do it… maybe even Compass.
Even if the photos were interesting, wouldn’t a caption highlighting the vessel or method’s distinct qualities make it better?
Were someone to take on such a project, here are some photos I might offer (left to right, top to bottom)
I dubbed my first attempt at a sailing dinghy, Trampers, a “twist-o-flex“ boat. It was an inflatable kayak with PVC mast and yard. I paddled ashore against the wind then sailed home. The rig and boat twisted out of the way when hit by a gust.
My first Fran, named for my mother who had a good sense of humor, was three boxes bolted together. The center box was a custom fit in the cockpit legwell, the two ends nested on the foredeck – an eleven-foot dinghy securely stowed using three and a half feet of deck. She was too narrow for oars and I had to sit high to paddle kayak fashion.
Fran II was the same idea but much refined. She had serious flotation fore and aft (removable aft) and sailed well. Judith, one of many I taught to sail Fran, swam ashore from the outer anchorage daily (and once swam from Hillsboro to Tyrrel Bay), so learning to sail Fran was just another adventure. She already had her way ashore.
Dan’s Igon began as a two-piece rowing dinghy found wrecked on a beach. He turned her into something sublime. The shape of her hull and sail are readily apparent. Her wooden spars were patiently shaped and she is adorned with bronze fittings.
Willie’s little double-ended dinghy is No Complain. Early morning in Admiralty Bay, he would row out and catch breakfast, which he cooked on the beach over a burning coconut husk while he worked his craft. Then he rowed up through the anchorage whistling pleasant tunes and showing his craft to yachts that seemed interested. Then he sailed home powered by a wind scoop.
Before Dan found Igon, he invented a sailing rig for Ziggy, a big, heavy fiberglass dinghy that was never intended to sail. Dan and Ziggy taught each other how to do it.
Chris and Yann’s dinghy had a leeboard on only one side. I’d thought you’d need one for either side, for both tacks – nope. The sailing rig was salvaged from some high-tech board boat – it even had roller-furling. Chris was often seen outside of the anchorage in the early morning trolling. He would catch what he and Yann needed then sail home. Dinghies aren’t just for getting ashore.
Back Again might be taking things a bit far. She was a “crazy craft“, “anything that will float but a boat.“ But she won her race and wound up on a Bequia Regatta postcard. Back Again is the only racing boat I’ve ever built.
Somewhere I’ve got a photo of the eight-foot inflatable I started with, which was small enough to row and had a raised transom to accommodate the long-shaft outboard that powered Ambia, my big boat.
An inflatable with an outboard can get you ashore too.
Caribbean Compass May 2021.
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