trailer while I maneuver the truck around our selected boat ramps. I haven’t gotten stuck, jack-knifed the trailer, or otherwise gotten distracted while she has nailed the center of the trailer first time, every time. Not that we haven’t met some launching challenges. Our favorite spots have typically been readily accessible launch sites that lead to adventures in multiple directions. Those with fewer options have been one-time visits, sites that still rendered excellent adventures with memories that fill my log book. Northeast Harbor’s steep ramp is perfect for all but the lowest tides, as the trailer doesn’t float very well at the deep end of this concrete slab. Nonetheless, she nailed the re-load like a pro, and I drove up the ramp like we did this all of the time as a bevy of tourists lined the railings on the mail boat dock. Some of the best memories have come from the isolated – and, I dare say, kind of secret – ramp that’s a real gem in West Tremont. I have solo launched here with relative ease, once into a pea-soup fog that never lifted and forced a ride back from Southwest Harbor to retrieve truck and trailer, plus another time when I launched at mean-low tide, pushing and pulling to get the boat off before the tide got lower, only to discover that my main battery was as limp as the harbor’s sails. One busy Saturday here found us lining up with the locals as the day’s weather promised more fun at sea than any landlubber deserved. Trucks were maneuvering around the ramp, some launching and some retrieving boats as this normally staid harbor was abuzz with activity. While we prepared our boat off to the side of the ramp, a young boy firmly addressed me. “I’ll be done in just a minute, is that alright, sir?” I turned to see a youngster of no more than 11, his rubber boots turned down at the top, with large, firm hands running toward the cab of the diesel pickup idling on the ramp. I acknowledged his politeness with
affirmation and explained that he needn’t worry. I certainly didn’t want to create a stir in a place where men, and boys, were obviously working, and we were getting ready to play. The lad quickly bounded down the ramp and jumped in behind the wheel of the big Ford. He smoothly backed the truck down the ramp, snatched his small lobstering boat from the hands of his waiting sternman, his dad, Ronald “Bruiser” Sanborn – a man recognizable as much for his distinctive voice as his outgoing personality – and up the ramp he came under full power, deftly parking truck and trailer in a space seemingly reserved for expert drivers only. As he passed us, he took special effort to thank my wife and me for waiting for him. It seemed only fair that I compliment Bruiser for his son’s exceedingly impressive manners, and also for the lesson that he and his son had shared with us. While boaters of a different sort, we were each there to enjoy the fruits of the sea in a different yet similar fashion. If we respected each other, as both boaters and humans, we would realize our respective pursuits and get more from each other in times when we least expect it. Just as Bruiser’s son was learning about the responsibility of lobstering – working for what he wanted, and that driving the truck was really no different from operating his grandfather’s excavators – we learned another valuable lesson about boating and how the people around the sea are just as important as the bright, blue ocean itself. Tim Plouff and his wife trailer a Sea Ray 215 Weekender up and down the coast as much as possible, overnighting a few times each season. In five years, they’ve added 240 hours to the meter. His launches are West Tremont and any destination from South Bath. On weekends, he writes an automotive column for the “Ellsworth American/Mt. Desert Islander.”
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Always wear a personal flotation device while boating and read your owner’s manual. 2009 American Honda Motor Co., Inc.
Points East Midwinter 2010
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