Sailing on salt water.

July 29.

A northeast wind with rain, but the sea is the wilder for it.

I heard the surf roar on the Gurnet in the night, which, as Uncle Ned and Freeman said, showed that the wind would work round east and we should have rainy weather. It was the wave reaching the shore before the wind.

In the afternoon I sail to Plymouth, three miles, notwithstanding the drizzling rain, or “drisk” as Uncle Ned calls it. We pass round the head of Plymouth beach, which is three miles long. I do not know till afterward that I land where the Pilgrims did and pass over the Rock on Hedge's Wharf. Returning, we have more wind and tacking to do.

This sailing on salt water is something new to me. The boat is such a living creature, even this clumsy one sailing within five points of the wind. The sailboat is an admirable invention, by which you compel the wind to transport you even against itself. It is easier to guide than a horse; the slightest pressure on the tiller suffices.

I think the inventor must have been greatly surprised, as well as delighted, at the success of his experiment. It is so contrary to expectation, as if the elements were disposed to favor you.

This deep, unfordable sea! but this wind ever blowing over it to transport you!

At 10 P.M. it is perfectly fair and bright starlight.

H. D. Thoreau, Journal, July 29, 1851

The boat is such a living creature. See August 22, 1858 ("How sturdily it pulls, shooting us along, catching more wind than I knew to be wandering in this river valley! It suggests a new power in the sail. . .The boat is like a plow drawn by a winged bull.")