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!
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.
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.
In my estimation there’s no finer time to sail on Lake Champlain than September. Bluebird skies. Crisp autumn air replaces humid August air. And generally the winds are wonderful.
We stood a while and enjoyed the falling evening. Sailboats moaned against dock lines, water lapped against hulls, and halyards pinged against masts in the dark. Tomorrow we hope to sail. (Source: Explore. Dream. Discover.)
Miriam’s been vying for the helm since Errant joined the family last season, and she finally got her chance. It’s been a full week since the delicious dinner we shared at The Upper Deck at the Willsboro Bay Marina, and she reminded me 2-3 times that she wanted to sail before skipping town for a bit.
Today was finally the perfect opportunity, and Miriam sailed Errant admirably. Winds ranged from about 8 knots to the low/mid teens, and the sun bathed us in its soothing warmth.
Miriam spent most of the afternoon attentive behind the wheel, asking questions, listening, experimenting. And John opted to enjoy the afternoon forward of the wheel, though he pitched in with the grinders from time to time.
Miriam and John Sailing Errant
A lovely way to spend a lazy afternoon with good friends. I look forward to our next outing.
What better way to celebrate the 3th of July than a sail with Charlie and Charlie? Charlie (my brother) and Charlie (my father-in-law) spent a lazy afternoon aboard Errant, sailing light winds and enjoying welcome weather — hot and sunny with nary a cloud or raindrop insight — after what feels like a month of rain.
Both Charlies spent time at the helm, and both helped with an exceedingly ungraceful return to my slip at the Essex Shipyard. I decided to back into the slip in order to make boarding slightly easier now that Lake Champlain water levels have flooded over the docks. Gven the tight quarters and Errant’s less-than-agile reverse maneuverability (exaggerated by my still “green” command), I made a decision to enter the channel bow-first, pivot in the slightly larger opening in front of my slip, and then back into the slip.
Bad choice!
Too much momentum and a strong pull to port when reverseing contributed to a botched pivot. Did I mention tight quarters?
Fortunately, my brother wields the force of Paul Bunyan and enough boating experience to anticipate our problem before it was too late. He managed to fend us off at midship, and helped me restore the pivot. Two friendly boaters from neighboring vessels assisted from the totally submerged finger, guiding us safely into our birth.
One of these days I am going to become as comfortable docking Errant as sailing her. Better yet, I hope to become as comfortable docking Errant as I as I have been docking powerboats for a quarter century. Stay tuned…
Following the most idyllic bike ride this morning, I headed out on Lake Champlain with my parents and sister for a almost-full-family inaugural sail. Perhaps we’ll manage a full-full-family sail when my brother arrives in a little over a week?
Loosely Logged…
We had motored out of my slip at the Essex Marina and begun hoisting the sails when I remembered that I wanted/needed to install the reefing system for the mainsail.
I still need to rig one or two reefing points. I’ll try to take care of that over the course of the week… (First Sail 2015)
Fortunately I found some spare hardware aboard and managed to temporarily rig the first reef, and it turned out to be essential. The initially light 6-8 know winds quickly built to the mid-teens and before long were +/-20 knots.
I’ve now that I’ve discovered firsthand how easy and useful it is to reduce the mainsail area.
This was my first time using the reefing system, and I’ve now that I’ve discovered firsthand how easy and useful it is to reduce the mainsail area, I’m going to hustle up the requisite hardware so that I have two ready reef options from now on.
I also reefed the genoa’s roller-furler twice as the wind built. It was a powerful learning experience.
This spring while working on Errant in the shipyard at the Willsboro Bay Marina I met a friendly fellow who was spring commissioning his sloop nearby. He impressed upon me the importance of reefing and assured me that the boat would perform better once I became accustomed to reefing during heavy winds. I explained that my sailing experience is primarily rooted in small boat sailing and sailboarding which made me greedy, hesitant to sacrifice sail area when the wind was whipping. But today I learned that he’s right. The boat doesn’t round up or wallow, and no water helm to wrestle with. And I was actually able to increase my hull speed when reefed, which was an important if overdue lesson to learn.
My sister and my father sailing Errant, June 2015.
Furler Foibles
We knocked around for a few hours taking turns at the helm and familiarizing ourselves with the ins-and-outs of this user-friendly Catalina 310. Once we were ready to wrap up and head in, I asked my father to furl the genoa. I rounded up into the wind, and he pulled the roller-furler line. It wouldn’t budge. He took the wheel and I tried. Nothing.
I realized that the spinnaker halyard had become tangled in the roller furler when I reefed it earlier. How? I had secured the spinnaker halyard to the bow pulpit this winter to keep it from slapping against the mast, and I forgot to switch it over when I launched. I had noticed the halyard flapping in the wind earlier in the day, and I’d made a mental note to secure it to the mast as the end of the day. Not soon enough!
By unfurling the genoa and tightening the spinnaker halyard so that it wouldn’t re-tangle, I was able to solve the problem. Relieved. I promised myself to become more detail oriented going forward.
Docking
Docking still revs up my anxiety meter… [so] I arrived at the Essex Marina with a twinge of dread. (First Sail 2015)
I was well protected from the wind and waves when I arrived at the marina, and with the advantage of a full crew to handle lines and fenders I was able to execute a relatively confident and wholly successful docking. I’m developing a slightly more intuitive understanding for Errant under engine power, but there’s still plenty to learn before I will feel as comfortable docking 11,000 pounds of fiberglass (plus plenty of windage) with a small two bladed prop and a 25hp diesel engine as I do a powerboat. But each successful docking brings me a little closer to the goal!
Catalina 310 Manuals for Errant (plus every other gadget onboard.) But this stash is missing a ship’s log! It’s time to rectify this critical oversight; it’s time to create Errant ship’s log…
Today I launch a new initiative, if I can call it that. Pomp and bluster notwithstanding, I’m decided to attempt an ongoing “ship’s log” for Errant to record sailing outings. A digital ship’s log.
I’m certainly not the first to use a blog to record navigational data, right? I suspect not.
I’ll spare you you the nitty-gritty, boring bits. Probably. Except when I don’t. And I’ll start by creating a ship’s log category and assigning appropriate existing posts to it to get things started off right… Done.
From Chip Log to Logbook
What exactly is a ship’s log / chip log / logbook? Let’s take a look.
A logbook is a record of important events in the management, operation, and navigation of a ship.
The term originally referred to a book for recording readings from the chip log, used to determine the distance a ship traveled within a certain amount of time. The readings of the log have been recorded in equal times to give the distance traveled with respect to a given start position.
Today’s ship’s log has grown to contain many other types of information, and is a record of operational data relating to a ship or submarine, such as weather conditions, times of routine events and significant incidents, crew complement or what ports were docked at and when. It is essential to traditional navigation, and must be filled in at least daily. (Wikipedia)
In a sense this entire blog is a digital ship’s log, but I’m hoping to discipline myself to create a subset of posts that are accountings of each outing. Most will be brief, I expect, micro-chronicles of my Errant adventures. And inevitably a few misadventures! Stay tuned…
This morning will be my last sail before heading off to the desert southwest for a week. Light but steady winds, bluebird skies and a father willing to join me in exchange for good conditions and a pastrami sandwich. Actually, he probably would have come even without, but the least I can do is dial in the weather and spring for lunch, right?
Note the chilly temperatures. It’s a bundle-up sort of day! Apparently autumn is offering a preview of crisper times to come.
Windy & Wavy
The wind forecast for today was accurate enough in the morning, but windspeed increased steadily all afternoon, blowing consistently in the high teens and low twenties. And with all that wind coming out of the north, the waves were stacking up into fairly significant rollers.
I’ve gotten much more comfortable pushing her forward even when the gusts knock us over a little, and she plows right through those waves.
It was an exciting and slightly anxiety inducing experience, but I learned a lot about how the boat performs. I’ve gotten much more comfortable pushing her forward even when the gusts knock us over a little, and she plows right through those waves. In hindsight, we would have been wise to reef early in the day and to furl some of the genoa, but all told it was an excellent learning experience. The boat handled well and we stayed dry.
After the Crunch: Errant against ominous skies after a less than elegant docking…
End of Season Service
Today marked another first of sorts, docking in Vermont at the Point Bay Marina service dock for diesel and a pump out. I’ll be getting the boat hauled and winterized shortly, so wanted to make sure that she was ready for the trip north with Mark and Jim.
The west side of the service dock was open and I was able to dock pretty smoothly with my bow up into the wind. Not a confident docking job, mind you, but it was adequate. No last minute engine revving, and no abort and try again. I know it’ll take plenty of time getting on and off docks, etc. to feel comfortable with this, but each little victory is a step in the right direction.
Bumper Docking
Docking at the Point Bay Marina gave me a premature taste of confidence, and unfortunately my return to homeport was considerably less victorious. In fact, it was a bit of a disaster.
The wind was blasting pretty steadily out of the north, and the seas were a sloppy mess. In hindsight I should have opted to take a temporary slip with better protection, etc. Instead I tried to pivot and reverse into my super tight, shared slip with my bow into the wind. Fortunately the marina manager’s instincts were awesome and his response time even more so. He leapt onto the bow of the neighboring sailboat and prevented us from tangling anchors. Two neighboring sailboat owners managed to fend off on our finger and caught/secured lines.
Damage to Errant’s smile, September 2014
Damage to Errant’s smile, September 2014
It all happened pretty quickly, and the damage was limited to a new chunk out of the gelcoat on the starboard edge of the transom. There were already several smaller dings, but this afternoon’s scar is the worst.
I was relieved and grateful, thanking everyone for saving the day. But once I was left alone to tidy up and batten everything down, I stalled a moment to study the damage. Minor but disappointing. Hopefully it will serve to remind me that I need plenty of practice before I should attempt anything as risky as backing into a slip with a strong wind.
Time to hunt around for some docking instructional aids…
