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.
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!
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!
My father at the helm and my sister assisting with Errant’s navigation. First sail of the season!
Today was the picture-perfect start to the sailing season. The sunshine and warmth and wind delivered an auspicious rebuttal to yesterday’s chilly, drizzly launch. And even more fortunate, I was joined by my father and sister for the sail south from Willsboro Bay Marina to the Essex Marina.
Lazy Day Log
The mostly north-northwest wind varied 6 to 12 knots with very minimal wave action. We motored north out of Willsboro Bay and raised our sales as we rounded the tip of Willsboro Point. Smooth sailing all the way, and approximately four hours of catch-up time. My father sailed most of the way, and my sister helped with the charts/navigation and even spent some time at the helm.
Docking still revs up my anxiety meter, and while I know this will change as my skills/confidence improve, I arrived at the Essex Marina with a twinge of dread. But light winds, forethought, and ample good fortune served me well. The boat responded perfectly, and my crew stacked the odds in my favor. A huge relief!
Projects on the Horizon
Errant feels ready for a summer of sailing. I’m excited as I look forward.
I still need to rig one or two reefing points. I’ll try to take care of that over the course of the week plus a handful of other projects that I still need to tackle including ordering and installing new halyards, ordering and installing new name, sealing a couple of slow topside leaks. But all in all, Errant feels ready for a summer of sailing. I’m excited as I look forward.
Water Level Worries
Unfortunately recent rains have elevated the Lake Champlain water level by 2+ feet, and the waves are now breaking over the marina’s docks and fingers. I had to set up a temporary spring stretched across the channel just to keep Errant off the dock. Fingers crossed that the rains will diminish in the lake level will begin to fall.
Jim at the HelmThursday’s sail north from Essex Marina to Willsboro Bay Marina with Jim and Mark was a great way to wrap up my first (extremely abbreviated) season sailing Da Capo/Errant. Smooth sailing with moderate to light winds and calm seas; bluebird skies and cool-to-warm temperatures; and the companionship of two close friends who are both intricately woven into my boating/sailing narrative.
Sail to Power to Sail
As I’ve mentioned previously, I grew up sailing. My father taught my brother, sister, and me to sail — first a Paceship 17 (P17), then an Alcort Sailfish, and later a Tiga sailboard — when I was a youngster. Probably between 8 and 14 years old I was strictly a sailor.
I envied neighbors who had powerboats, mostly because it opened the possibility of waterskiing which I had learned to do. But my parents were keen on the environment, not motorboats. So when I got my first job as a dock boy at the Westport Marina (owned and operated by Jim and his family), I took advantage of every opportunity that I could to operate powerboats. Jim was my boss, but he was a benevolent boss and soon a friend. He opened up the wide world of powerboat opportunities, allowing me to take out the staff at the end of the work day for an end-of-shift ski. I jumped at every opportunity to join him (or his brother Larry) on rescues, zooming through often messy conditions in a Shamrock workboat that looked like a miniature tugboat. I shuttled boaters out to moorings, moved boats between slips, delivered boats to clients with waterfront docks elsewhere on Lake Champlain, and weaseled my way into just about any boating experience I could finagle.
In short, during my teens and early twenties I barely sailed at all!
Mark During Last Sail 2014But I found my way back to sailing in my mid twenties. I was living in Santa Fe, New Mexico (check out our current adobe oasis!) and windsurfing on the desert southwest’s tiny manmade lakes offered the perfect antidote to lake-longing. My girlfriend and I acquired a hodgepodge of secondhand gear and taught ourselves to chase high dessert storms.
In my early thirties my brother and I balanced summer ski boats with Hobie Cat 16 sailing. To this day I consider sailboarding and small, fast catamaran sailing to be just about the most exhilarating watersport out there!
But I’m missing a chapter in my boating narrative. In my twenties and thirties I began to dream of sailing and cruising in larger monohulls. Mostly it was daydreaming. Reading and rereading worn Nautical Quarterly volumes, flipping through sailing magazines, and wandering marinas. Some day…
As in my early power boating days I pursued any and every opportunity to get aboard a sailboat. Shortly after moving back to the United States after living in France for almost four years I began collaborating with Jim and Mark on an e-commerce project called ShipStore.com. Mark was living on a sailboat in Benecia, California and racing an asymmetrical dinghy on weekends. Cool!
I remember like it was yesterday the sun soaked day that Mark and I spent with our brides sailing, eating, brainstorming, daydreaming on his sailboat Wandering Rose. Ever since he’s encouraged my desire to sail and cruise (and possibly some day, even live aboard). And Mark was instrumental in helping me evaluate Da Capo/Errant.
So it seemed apropos that I should conclude my skinny season number one with both Jim and Mark. One opened up the world of power boating (effectively wooing me away from sailboats) and the other guided me back to my sailing roots. Narrative perfection!
Following a charmed afternoon of sailing, we dropped the sails and headed into Willsboro Bay. The good folks at Willsboro Bay Marina invited me to spend the night in the slip of Da Capo/Errant’s previous owner, ensuring that I would be ready bright and early to bring the boat to the service dock / travel lift for hauling.
We cracked open the rum and grilled a tasty supper on the boat. Lots of laughter and libations later, Jim headed home and Mark and I turned in for my first night of sleep on the new boat and the last night of boating for the season.
Good Satellite Radio Karma
Sometimes life rhymes. Or so it seems. And when it does, it’s especially fine to accompany it with an appropriate soundtrack.
As I drove to the marina at the outset of this journey look what came up in the playlist…
A perfect day for sailing! Warm and sunny, winds variable 0-15 knots, and — best of all — a chance to wile away the day on Lake Champlain with my father.
My dad taught me to sail 30-35 years ago (a story for another post). It seems appropriate that for my first day sailing Da Capo (soon to be Errant) without my friend Mark at my side, coaching and encouraging, I should have my father onboard to balance out the sailing team.
Thanks, Dad!
Winds were light but mostly steady making for easy, enjoyable sailing and plenty of time to swap sailing stories. My father didn’t grow up in a sailing family, but he learned to sail in his teens and twenties with friends. He shared a couple of fun adventures that I’ll recount anon if he offers his blessing.
From start to finish our sail was a delight. He sailed much of the time, and Da Capo performed predictably, reliably, and 100% enjoyably. Even docking, a hurtle I’m yet to perfect mentally or in execution, proceeded smoothly.
