Hubster visit

Over the holiday weekend, the whole family went up to see Sixpence again. This time the Hubster got to come along. I kept an eye on the kidlets while he checked over every inch of Sixpence's 56 feet. His final assessment is that she'd make a great liveaboard. He just has to come to terms with "lowering himself" to living on ketch rather than a schooner. Considering that the kids and I will be the ones living on her all the time, the ones keeping her up and generally the ones sailing her while he's gone, I think he can deal. ;)

We originally intended to see Taya again as well, but there was a small problem. The boat broker had driven back from Maine that morning, and fell asleep instead of meeting us. It's understandable, and he's mortified over it. So it will be about a month before both the Hubster and I have a free weekend to go up to Annapolis again, and the boat broker is just going to have to wait if he wants a chance to make it up to us. I'm wondering if there's some way we could milk this for extra considerations. I'm a mercenary little wench at times.

Since seeing Taya was a wash, we all ended up at Dave and Buster's instead. The kids had never been to D&Bs before. They have a new favorite restaurant now, and I think they finally understand why I've never been impressed by Chuck E Cheese.

The kids prefer the idea of living on Sixpence to living on Taya. I agree with them. She's going to be a hell of a lot more work to maintain (wood instead of steel), but she feels more like a home. Sixpence has a spirit in her, and it's a spirit that welcomes our family. That's not something to take lightly.

I did some poking around and found an old TIME magazine article that was fairly interesting. It was about Stuyvesant Fish, the original owner of Sixpence, who named her Restless. It's the earliest published information I can find on her.

A drizzly rain fell over New York harbor at dusk one day last month. A trim little 30-foot cabin sportabout nosed out of the Kill van Kull, turned north across the Upper Bay. Aboard were Manhattan Broker Stuyvesant Fish, owner; Mrs. Fish; their two sons, and Captain A. Phillip Larsen. Mr. Fish was bringing his new yacht, the Restless, up from its builders, American Car and Foundry Co. at Wilmington, Del. From the Brooklyn shore a U. S. patrol boat slid out in pursuit of the Restless. Hard by the Statue of Liberty, the U. S. craft fired twice on the Fish boat. Capt. Larsen hove to. From the patrol boat to the Restless stepped a U. S. agent (No. 979). He had a gun. Others on the U. S. boat exhibited firearms. "Why the hell didn't you stop when we fired?" asked the agent. He inspected the Restless' papers, spent a half-hour up turning cushions, feeling in lockers for liquor. None was found. Mr. Fish was angry. He spoke his mind. From the U. S. boat came a voice: "You're damned lucky we didn't turn the machine gun on you." Later Mr. Fish learned that the patrol boat was part of the U. S. Customs Enforcement Service (not Coast Guard). Mr. Fish filed a protest at Washington against the boarding, the swaggering display of firearms, the "threatening and profane" language before Mrs. Fish and the boys.

"Bedevilment," TIME, Monday, April 29, 1929