ing attention as they entered the ball. The biggest, shiniest boat put out two signs boldly declaring: NO SHOES. “Well, we don’t mind shoes,” I said aloud. “Maybe you’ll meet some people who don’t want to take off their shoes, Elsa.” Two docks away I could just make out a man in a white shirt and black bowtie setting up a bar on the float, complete with hors d’oeuvres. The bar was next to the biggest, shiniest boat. Crowded around the bar and piling onto the shiniest boat (sans shoes) were most of the people at the party. “Well, how about a cocktail?” I said to no one in particular (since there was no one in particular), “but we better stay here and drink our own booze in case someone comes down this way and wants to see you.” No one came. I began thinking about that lonesome Maine cove. I sensed Elsa did, too, and wanted to leave the party before anyone noticed she’d come. Then something happened. Someone from up by the shiny boats got bored (or just decided to go for a walk) and headed our way. I thought of that green waterline slime I hadn’t removed before the party and figured we’d be passed over. We smiled demurely. “Welcome aboard…ah, if you’d like,” I said timidly. He looked Elsa over. “Quite a beam on her,” he said. Then he looked at her wonderful, commodious cockpit, with the wraparound stern seat, wooden wheel, and old bronze
190 Outrage
fittings. “Nice,” he said. And by God he came aboard. It was Elsa’s first dance. When he went below, we knew we had him. He looked at the five distinctive gimbaled kerosene lamps. He looked at the heavy, bronze opening ports and the solid, varnished wood everywhere. He looked at the watercolors and pictures on her cabin bulkheads, including the portrait of her namesake. Then he sat down on the canvas-covered bunk, looked around some more, nodded and said, “Now this is a boat.” Eventually, he left and went back to the other end of the party. “There,” I said to Elsa. “You have appeal, even in this crowd. See?” There was a knock on the hull. It was the same man, and he’d brought back his wife and two friends. “You have to see it inside,” I heard him say. “Welcome aboard…if you like,” I said again. And so they came. And after they left, others came, saying they had to see her inside. Soon we had eight people in the cabin and others waiting in the cockpit. In hindsight, I’m sure the other boats were even more popular, but at that moment, as the smallest, fattest and oldest boat at the end of the line of floats at the party, we were somebody. Our dance card was full. Dave Roper’s new book, “Watching for Mermaids,” which climbed to No. 4 on the “Boston Globe” Best-Sellers List, is available through www.amazon.com.
New 27 Padebco Walkaround
Whalers ranging from 11 feet - 37 feet available.
Since 1982 1/2 mile off Route 3 on Norway Drive in Salisbury Cove Bar Harbor, Maine 207-288-5247 Open Mon-Fri. 8-5, Sat. 9-12 bowdenmarine@acdia.net www.bowdenmarine.com 14 Points East August 2012
A great blend of comfort & convenience. 28 Anchor Inn Road, Round Pond, Maine 04564 Member Member
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