Today I met with a friend at a local yacht club

Today I met with a friend at a local yacht club.  We took out one of the club's 16.5 foot Catalinas.  I was expecting a rather leisurely sail.  What I got was an education.

The wind was from the NE at about 10 knots, gusting to 15.  That's what the weather report stated.  OK, I've done that in my little 10 foot dinghy. No big deal.  This should be a lot of fun.  Lemme tell ya about expectations; it's best not to have any.

Everything started out real fine.  We checked out the boat, made sure it had all the stuff we would need to sail it, you know; beer, water, beer......did I forget anything?  Oh, yeah!  Beer.  Just kidding.  I had three beers with me, Gail had brought water and cold cuts, I had the captain't bag with survival stuff like sideband radio, lights and such, Gail had the membership at the club and keys to the door.  Hit the johns, sign the boat out and head for the dock.

We climbed into the boat, stowed everything we could in the forward compartment and prepped the boat for sailing.  Check all the lines, take off the sail covers, hang the rudder, pull out and ready the paddles for getting out the the marina, pull on the sailing shoes and go.  Once out into the channel I proceeded to hoist the mainsail only to find that I had not connected the hawser to the top of the sail.  Oops!  I know we were being watched by some of the club members so I was immediately embarrassed by my oversight.  Missing a detail like that can put you on the rocks.  It damn near did.

I did get the sail up in time to avoid hitting the shallows.  It was a near thing as the wind was coming at us hard from the NW.  Did I mention that there is also a Coast Guard Auxiliary station there as well?  That kind of mistake attracts attention.  Tugging and pulling I managed to get the mainsail up and working.  We then grabbed a big sail full of wind and off we went with a healthy heel and a snap of fabric.

We needed to get past a mooring field first, so I asked Gail to stand by the jib sail after we were on course in the channel.  Once clear of the mooring field I told Gail to set the jib and she tried, but nothing happened.  The jib stayed rolled up on the forestay.  Now, I've never used a roller/reefer jib, or any jib for that matter.  It took me a moment to realize that we/I had neglected to release the return line for the roller.  Damnit!  This much for Gail; she's good crew.  I asked her to uncleat the thin purple line and try to deploy the sail again.  This time it worked.

When the jib came out of the roll with a bang I was hardly prepared for the sudden rush of speed and the way the boat heeled over, shipping water over the lee rail.  Wow!  We got the boogie on, now!  And then the first real gust hit us, from a different direction.  I remembered my first sailing lesson; don't sail a strict course in high winds, sail to the wind.  I relaxed a little on the tiller and allowed the boat to swing into the wind.

At a certain point in the turn I felt the boat shudder and saw that the sails were tight and the hull was cutting the chop at nearly forty five degrees to the wind.  Perfect!  I have it now!  This is great!  And then the wind clocked again, coming from the original direction and the sails were luffing, slapping and flailing, looking for traction.  Steer back off the wind and watch the sails.  Soon we were cutting through the water at hull speed roughly on the course that I had originally set.  This was going to be the pattern for the entire sail.

I would get the boat trimmed and the wind would shift or just plain drop off.  Sometimes, looking at the way the waves were moving I would swear that the wind was coming straight down.  We would have a good progression of waves, telling me more about the prevailing winds than the tell tales on the rigging, and then all of a sudden the waves would flatten with lots of little wavelets in a confused pattern.  It was a challenge.  It was also very difficult to maintain a steady course.  The wind would veer as much as forty five degrees with periods of calm at seemingly random moments.  There had to be a pattern, but I just couldn't read it.

So, Gail and I fought the wind instead of working with it, or maybe the wind fought us and refused to work with us.  Either way, this sailing trip was turning out to be a lot of work.  It was also one hell of an education for me.  This was the first time that I had had an opportunity to work with a main an jib set up, or a bermuda rig, under any conditions.  I was gonna learn this!  No way was a piece of fiberglass and Dacron going to beat me!  It did, however, beat me (and Gail) up.

We got wet.  We got thrown around.  The cockpit filled up more than once with water while I tripped over the main sheet lock and tiller during an unintentional jibe.  Then we had made it far enough upwind to come about.  From Structure C to the channel for Correy Causeway Bridge, we fought our way upwind.  Then when we reached the areas that I knew were shallow we came about to sail with the wind.  Now it was time to relax and have a beer.  Yeah, right.

Just as Gail and I had brought the boat about, we ran aground.  I thought I knew the bay by now from sailing it with my little dinghy.  My dinghy draws three feet.  The Catalina draws four.  It was mid tide with heavy winds.  I couldn't see the usual brown stripe that a shoal shows.  Well, shit!  There we were, stranded on a fin keel in four or less feet of water and high winds.  OK; lets see if we can heel out of this.  Draw the sails in tight, move the boom around until it catches the wind, don't worry about the water coming over the rail, just get the keel out of the shoal.  It worked!  In the course of the entire sail it worked three times.  I need to learn the waters around here a little better.

Once off the first grounding, I set the sails "wing on wing".  I had only read about this and had never tried it.  It worked!  With the jib out to port and the main out to starboard, we sailed downwind quiet and calm.  And then the wind shifted.  The jib flapped and banged until I could steer more with the wind.  The main stayed tight.  Good thing.  I would have hated to deal with an unintentional jibe with the wind as fickle as it was.  We actually did several unintentional jibes throughout the sail.  Gail; you are one brave fem.

With the downwind run I had time for a beer.  It was WAY needed by that time.  I knew that I had bitten off more than I could chew comfortably with this day's sailing, but what better way to learn?  Find your limits and then exceed them.  Reach and stretch.  How do you know what your breaking points are if you never reach them?  How can you enjoy life without risking it?  Gail and I had a ball.  Four hours of sailing in some of the worst non gale conditions you could imagine with each moment a challenge and I was worn out.  I'm certain Gail was, too.

A lot of the sail was trying to be courteous to the Gulfport Sailing Club as they raced their cats around.  There were a few close calls, but I believe being predictable saved a lot of hassle as well as fiberglass repair.  My sincere apologies to anyone who lost time because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I did my best to stay out of the race course, but as a sailing novice I claim ignorance and lack of skill.  Beat me up later once I know what I'm doing...I'll deserve it then.

Getting back to the yacht club was a lot of work.  The wind kept clocking and backing.  I asked Gail to stow the jib so we could get back into the marina under mainsail alone.  This was sailing I was used to.  After being becalmed and thrown off course several times we managed to get the bow pointed into the marina.  Against the wind.  Against a wind that would sometimes blow at 20 knots and then go calm, only to come at us again from a different direction.  The paddles on board were nice to have but Gail, for all of her strengths, has little upper body strength.  It was a struggle getting back to the slip.

We did it, out and back, four hours of intense sailing in challenging conditions, and we were still civil.  Wow.  One of the club members was on hand when we returned and commented that he wondered who would be brave enough to take the boat out that day.  I commented back that there was little difference between bravery and stupidity.  Only success or failure would determine which was which.

Gail made us some sandwiches, I drank the other two beers and thanked the gods for our safe return.  Lets do this again real soon.  The sea is my new horse, the boat my saddle and my intention the harness.  Yee Haw!  Let's go sailing!

Thank you, Gail, for suggesting this day.  I had more fun than I have had in years.  This was one of the most physically and mentally challenging days I've known.  It also gets me closer to realizing my dream.  I want to be proficient enough to sail the Earth's oceans on my own.  This day got me closer to that goal.


No one gets out of here alive, so live it like ya mean it.