I have been too sick, sad, devastated, and in denial to admit to the terrible, terrible, terrible thing that happened over a fortnight ago. I broke Gerris. Oh, so sad.
Over two weeks ago, while I was polishing Gerris while she was slung between two slings down at Thompsons, I dropped her stern to the ground.
She, in her fragile carbon beauty, snapped like a cinema sippy straw. Carbon is stiff and flexes only a little. She snapped like a twig. She is broken and needs to be repaired by Steve.
I took off Wednesday afternoon and went down to hang out with all the highschool rowers as they acted like kids — the boys with the boys checking out the girls with the girls.
I had to do what I had to do:
I de-rigged her by taking off her riggers, removing the footplate (foot stretchers) and sliding out her wooden seat. Oh so sad.
Took the riggers, the seat, and the footplate with the shoes and threw it into the car.
Walked back, called Steve, and told him that the boat was ready and that I was looking forward to seeing his magic and getting the boat back into the water before too long.
I am told that Steve is the best. He has been fixing carbon fiber racing sculls, racing eights, and dragon boats for the last 35-years.
I can’t wait.
