Lunacy's new bowsprit continues to evolve from concept to reality. I stopped by Maine Yacht Center this past Thursday to check out the latest wooden mock-up and was very pleased with what I saw. This latest iteration, as you can see, incorporates the vertical plate that will support the underside of the structure. (After pondering a bit, I've realized the best name for this piece is "bob-plate," as it does the same job as a bobstay.) We've also added the extra foot of unsupported sprit forward of the anchor rollers from which my A-sail will someday fly. I was worried all this would make Lunacy's prow look a bit odd, especially given her raked bow, but in fact I think it looks pretty cool.

Project Proboscis is lurching ahead. On Wednesday afternoon I met with Brian Harris, Jeff Stack, and Will Rooks at Maine Yacht Center and we spent a good hour noodling over the design of Lunacy's new bowsprit. After much debate with myself and some consultation with others (including Scott Alexander at Selden Mast and Doug Pope at Pope Sails), I've decided not to adopt the bold plan proposed by Lunacy's original designer, Yves-Marie Tanton, which I described in my last post on this subject.

As Martin Luther King once put it: I have a dream. His was most admirable; mine is a bit selfish. Pretty much ever since I acquired Lunacy, I've had visions of a bowsprit of some sort dangling off her bow. Something that would allow me both to fly an asymmetric spinnaker in a sock forward of her stem and a Code 0 sail on a furler, so I can sail the boat to windward more easily in light air without having to change the working jib to a big genoa.

This winter I'm thinking maybe my dream will become reality, so I asked Yves-Marie Tanton, who originally designed Lunacy, for his thoughts on the subject. I was a little amazed when he promptly sent back the drawings you see up top and below.

Only a boatowner could view an image like this as being orgasmic. You'll recall I'm testing some gear sent over from Ultrasonic Antifouling Ltd. in the UK--in-hull transducers that go clickety-click 24-7 and supposedly prevent nasty critters from growing on Lunacy's hull.

Well… Lunacy got hauled a couple of weeks ago after two months in the water with her two new transducers clicking away, and the results seem pretty damn impressive to me. I can't really say anything definitive yet. Two months ain't that long, and Lunacy does have a new suit of anti-fouling paint on… BUT the harbor in Portland, Maine, where she lays, is normally a high-growth area, and the boat has been mostly idle, and I have no reason to believe that Lunacy's new zinc-based ablative bottom paint is any more effective anti-fouling-wise than her old zinc-based ablative bottom paint (which wasn't really that effective)...

SO I am tentatively, provisionally, and marginally ecstatically encouraged by these photographs.

Sailing from Jewell Island to South Freeport was my last proper outing on Lunacy this year. I've delayed sharing details with you, I suppose because I'm still in denial about having the old girl hauled this winter. I chose to sail to South Freeport only because of the weather report. I had dismissed it as a destination in the past, because the entrance on the chart looks a bit protracted and involved, and because in season I've always assumed it would be crowded there.

But we were now distinctly out of season, and I needed a place to spend the night that a) offered decent shelter from the howling northwest wind forecast on the NOAA weather radio; and b) was north of Portland, so I could comfortably ride that howling breeze down the bay the following day. After studying the chart for some time, I concluded South Freeport might be my best bet.

Due to an abrupt increase in sailing magazine responsibilities (ironically), I've concluded I won't have time to sail Lunacy south for the winter this year. Instead, for the first time in three years, she'll be hauled out next week and stored on the hard here in the soon-to-be-frozen Northeast. I am none too happy about this and over the past two days sought to console myself with one last solo mini-cruise on Casco Bay.

Of all the many anchorages within spitting distance of Portland, the most popular is probably Jewell Island. The island is laced with a nice maze of trails, and at the south end there's a large complex of old World War II fortifications that are great fun to explore. The old concrete observation tower is eight stories high and affords a fabulous view of a huge swath of the coast. The gun emplacements, meanwhile, look large enough to seat weapons capable of hurling shells the size of compact cars a dozen miles or more.

In the summer the anchorage itself, which is small and quite narrow, is often overcrowded. But I reckoned this time of year, nearly two months after Labor Day, I just might have it all to myself.