In an interview with Jimmy Cornell about his recent update to the blue water cruising bible, Ocean Atlas, the effects of climate change feature prominently.
Sail Sooner (Photo: Geo Davis)
Cornell closes with ominous advice to would-be voyagers.
There is no doubt that global weather conditions are changing: slower in some parts of the world, faster than expected in others. All I can say is that with careful planning, it is still possible to set off on a long voyage, even in these changing times. But I must advise anyone who is seriously planning to leave on such a voyage: The sooner you do it, the better.
— Jimmy Cornell, September 2023 (Source: “Talking Trade Winds with Jimmy Cornell” by Theresa Nicholson, Cruising World)
Startling. But sound advice, I imagine. Sail sooner because climate change is altering the altas for long distance sailers. Sail. Sooner…
Elan GT6 (Photo: Richard Langdon / Ocean Images via Yachting World)
Much is being made of Elan’s partnership with Porsche on the new GT6, “the first Porsche-designed sailing yacht.”
And while the lines are attractive, I am curious whether or not personally important practical considerations — responsible and efficient shorthanded sailer, predictable and responsive across a wide range of wind/sea conditions, sufficient interior headroom to avoid knocking my knob, abundance of natural light below decks, nimble close quarter navigation even under adverse conditions for worry free docking, etc. — will measure up to the posh lines.
Until I am able to witness in person, this review is helpful.
It is enjoyable to sail at a respectable pace and practical to cruise short-handed. It offers the space and comfort for spending holidays aboard, which it suits more than long-distance/ocean voyaging. And it is designed to maximise the enjoyment of your chosen cruising grounds, whether on deck, below, or on the helm. (Source: Yachting World)
Although this vessel is slightly larger than my target, for now I am adding it to my “learn more” list.
I often try to explain the sense of freedom that sailing offers. The emotional and psychological levity that buoys the heart and mind as you throw off the lines or haul up the anchor. The capacity to breathe a little deeper, a little slower, a little more refreshing. It’s a sense of freedom that swells the imagination with exotic destinations and adventurous junkets. It’s the illusion of autonomy and limitless possibilities…
I checked in with Derek Lane (@svaprilhailey) to see if the source for this quotation was known. Apparently not. So, until a good samaritan sends me the proper citation, I include this kernel of maritime insight without source.
“A yacht can take you anywhere — the horizon is unlimited. Sailing gives you the freedom to create your own dream and disappear to a magical place.”
— Anonymous
Sailing taps something deep in my spirit, deep in my psyche that longs for unfettered wandering. Alas, it is more illusion than reality at this stage in my life, but some day I will loose lines and set off in pursuit of bigger dreams. Until then, a few hours — or better yet, a few days — sailing Lake Champlain transports me far away into the world of possibility.
If you summon up sailing in your imagination all sorts of experiences — possibly even memories, if you’re lucky — trigger a tidal wave of endorphins and adrenaline and dopamine. Casting off with close friends, powering through pulse-pounding jibes, nostalgic sundowners on the hook…
While “burying the rail” might be one of the most common visuals we associate with sailing, I find that it’s more exception than norm. More often, sailing conditions are variable, sometimes even mellow. Today definitely fits into the latter category.
I find myself holding back on near-windless days. Why head out for the day on Errant, or even a few hours, if there isn’t much wind?
Yesterday reminded me that even light wind days can be perfect under sail. I dinghied my ungainly punch list and digital devices out to Errant with the notion that I might just try to get some work done on the mooring and see if the wind picked up. It only took the most subtle freshening, visible on the water surface a dozen boat lengths out into Lake Champlain to change my mind. Why drift on the mooring when you can drift at sea?
As you can see, I unfurled only the genoa and settled into a remarkably productive day at the office. Errant practically sailed herself!
It’s been a soggy spring/summer so far, and that — combined with five days away for a college reunion — slowed pre-launch preparations a bit.
But Errant is finally launched, spotless and shinier than she’ll be all season, and sailing better than ever. Eureka! This little mashup chronicles the final journey from shipyard to travel lift to bay to lake to mooring.
Mini-montage of Errant’s 2019 launch and shakedown sail…
I mentioned in the video that “there’s something incredibly ungainly about seeing a keel boat trundled around a shipyard”, and I’m left (after sailing much of the day away) with the curious contrast between the way a sailboat looks in the water, under sail and the way she looks in a clunky cradle being hauled behind a tractor.
I’m always a little anxious watching 12k pounds of boat making it’s way toward water after a season on the hard. So awkward and ungainly. But once wet, she is once again graceful and confident.
I’d like to offer an enthusiastic shoutout to Paul Mero and his attentive team at the Willsboro Bay Marina who always take such good care of Errant (and her zealous skipper!) and to Michael Reusser, the marina’s thoughtful problem solver when it comes to challenges mechanical, electrical, plumbing, etc. Also to Andre and Tami who keep the shipstore, scheduling, and billing running smoothly. I’ve always considered a stroke of good fortune to inherit this marina and this team when I purchased Errant, and I can’t recommend them highly enough.
I managed to squeeze a 4-day sailing adventure into busy-busy July. Chalk that one up in the quality of life column!
It’s been a spectacular sailing season on Lake Champlain, and this latest junket was no exception. Decompression time. Mostly moderate winds (with a big-ish northerly on my homecoming leg from Plattsburgh to Essex). I slept like a baby. I ate and drank and exercised and swan and wrote and edited and caught up on podcasts and caught up on boat maintenance and caught up with friends and even helped prep a public mural in Downtown Plattsburgh.
And I returned home revitalized and ready for the next round of houseguests.
Special thanks to Amy Guglielmo (Twitter), Brian Giebel (Twitter), Burlington Community Boathouse Marina (website), Plattsburgh Boat Basin (website), North Country Food Co-op (website), Naked Turtle (website), Irises Cafe & Wine Bar (website), and Outside Art: Plattsburgh Public Art Project (Facebook).
Souvenirs
Scrapbook souvenirs (and maybe-future-useful items like the Plattsburgh Boat Basin dock diagram) from my July 2018 Solo Sail-about.
“Sailing takes me away to where I've always heard it could be. Just a dream and the wind to carry me. And soon I will be free.”
If you’re planning to hole up at the Plattsburgh Boat Basin anytime soon, you may find their dock plan useful. (Note: always double check dock plans since reconfiguration/changes are possible.)
Plattsburgh Boat Basin Dock Plan (Source: Plattsburgh Boat Basin, July 2018)
And another interesting relic from my stay at PBB, this temporary permit is apparently provided to all transients. I asked where to post it and was told that having it aboard was sufficient.
Nothing says “summer supper” like salade niçoise… And shared with friends during a sunset sail on magnificent Lake Champlain? That, THAT is good living. 🙂
Thanks, Denise and John, for the perfect Wednesday wind down. Thanks, Susan, for transforming garden fresh ingredients into the tastiest lakeside dining imaginable.
While every day spent sailing (even every hour, every minute!) is added to the cosmic Life Well Lived database, some sails are better than others. My Saturday sail with dad is exhibit A, and I can’t even fully grok what set it apart from previous sailing outings with my father. I have a few ideas, but sometimes the whole is greater than the parts!
After failing to sail with my father even once last summer (and regretting it all winter), 2018 is shaping up to be better this season.
Here’s a mini video postcard from our time on the water.
That first wing on wing clip was shortly after I sailed south past Split Rock. Light winds. I spent the first hour or two between our boathouse and Snake Den Harbor moving downwind at an ever-so-leisurely pace which actually worked out pretty nicely because I tackled a backlog of desk work while at the helm. (Thanks Apple for my trusty iPad and Verizon for my [usually] reliable data service. The best corner office on the planet is stern-side of Errant’s helm!)
By the third clip the wind had begun to freshen and I was able to accelerate my sail down to Rock Harbor to pick up my dad. He was waiting at the dock and proposed sailing back up to Essex for dinner at Lyn & Rays (www.chezlinandraysllc.com). I’d anticipated playing with the spinnaker on the southern end of the lake, but the wind had continued to build, and the prospect of some fast tacks northward and a delicious dinner won out.
That third clip was shortly after a swift J (www.jboats.com) slightly smaller than Errant — and a whole lot zippier — passed me to leeward. He started chasing me shortly after I rounded split rock on the homeward leg, and he zeroed in on us, hustling upwind as efficiently as possible while my father goaded me. “He’s gaining on you. Yep, he’s catching you.”
It was a fun slog, but the shorthanded helmsman and his speedy ride handily bested me. A short time after I recorded that clip he came about and headed back downwind toward Thompson’s Point.
And the good times didn’t end when we moored at Rosslyn (rosslynredux.com) a little after 5:00pm. A delicious dinner was in store for us at Lyn & Rays.
Thanks, dad. I hope to get you out on Errant again soon.
Yes, it’s that inevitable, poignant end of season post. Summer 2017 has come and gone.
“Donde hubo fuego, cenizas quedan.”
— Anonymous
And in English, “Where there was fire, ashes remain.” What a sailing season. Sorry to have so poorly documented my adventures. Too many competing time pirates looting my clock? Something.
Here’s a quick glimpse of the final lap, sunny side up:
Sailing the Fastnet (Source: “My Life on the Ocean Wave”, The New York Times)
Hat tip to my father for sending me a link to “Fastnet sailing adventure“, Michael Hutchinson’s delightfully recounted Fastnet sailing adventure.
I found that I could stand behind the wheel carving a fast passage through the rolling sea for hours on end, barely having to think. It was hypnotic. (Source: The New York Times)
I totally understand what Hutchinson is referring to, and I’ve never blue water sailed. Not yet. (But I will!)
There is something hypnotic—even when sailing within sight (or almost within sight) of land—about slicing through the sea at the helm of a solid sailboat. I find this to be especially true when I’m shorthanded. So totally, 100% in the zone. So alive. And yet so removed from everything else, all distractions and deadlines and fuzzy thinking.
Hutchinson writes well, and he communicates the subtlety of sailing well, but there’s something even more tantalizing in this piece. Perhaps it’s how familiar his thoughts felt. This, too, hit home for me:
It was cartoonishly metaphorical, the eight of us surfing toward the finish line surrounded by jumping dolphins. Ten year old me… would have ignored them, the better to evaluate the effects of Coriolis force on the sail trim. Happily, it turned out that I’d got a lot younger in the intervening years. (Source: The New York Times)
I think I was an old man when I was a child, far more eager (and anxious) than my peers. I did my best to camouflage both afflictions, but they were there, roiling within. And I’m certain that I’ve un-aged as I grown older. I’m still eager, but I’m less anxious. I’m more present and appreciative and joyful and—not always, but often—I’m more tranquil. Sailing is for me one of those transcendent places where I can be young again. Joyfully young without the ache of worry.
I close with a hat-tip to my father (who sent me this article, and who taught me to sail a long time ago) and to Michael Hutchinson for chronicling and sharing his adventure. Thanks!
