Cock Island – The Journey Home
Steve N and I took 4 Degrees back to Yorktown on Sunday. We didn’t get moving until about 11, after we had breakfast and said all our goodbyes.
It was hot, and the wind just wasn’t there as we traveled up the Elizabeth River. We began to fear we’d have to motor the entire way. No one else seemed to be having much luck either, so it wasn’t for our lack of trying.
As we turned the corner from the Elizabeth into the bay, our luck changed and the winds picked up. We actually had some pleasant sailing for awhile.
But, as we moved further up the bay, the waves got rougher and the winds got stronger. We were going downwind, and the winds were mainly off starboard, but Steve rigged a preventer, just in case, to prevent the main from whipping across the boat.
Not much longer after that, we took in the jib. But, by then, the winds were strong enough that it was difficult to roll it in smoothly.
My boat is well rigged for reefing the main. There are lines on the mainsail itself, as well as rigging on the boom. I asked Steve why we didn’t do so. He said we were moving well and he didn’t want to slow us down.
Um, yeah. Heavy winds will do that. And, as one friend said when I told him of this experience, by the time you think you should reef the main, it’s usually too late.
Kenny talked to me over the weekend about the experience of ‘surfing’ a sailboat. Sounded kind of strange to me. But we actually did that. We hit some of those waves just right that we rode their crests for a bit.
As time goes on and the weather gets worse, I’m getting more and more nervous. But I really got nervous when Steve put on a life jacket. I told him where the harness was, too, and he put that on. He then took the wheel and I went to don a life jacket as well.
And all this time, I’m wondering what I’m going to do if he falls over. I can’t reach the radio – I’m too nervous to leave the wheel. My cell phone is below, because I was afraid of losing it overboard. Only thing I can think to do is hit the ‘Man Overboard’ button on my GPS, to mark the location, and let someone know as soon as I get to port.
We see the storm rolling in, and the rain and lightning in the distance. It doesn’t look like it’s going to get better any time soon. Then the preventer broke. Luckily, neither of us was in the way when the main whipped across the cockpit. Steve commented later that next time, he should rig it with something heavier. My comment back was better that the preventer broke than something on the boat.
Finally, after his lifejacket is on, Steve brings down the mainsail. We still haven’t reached the mouth of the York River, so we have a couple of hours to go. But we’ll do that motoring, which is much safer.
We do make it to Wormley Creek safe and sound. And, as usual, there’s no wind in the marina, even though the storm is still playing itself out on the river.
It’s 6 o’clock now. It’s taken us 7 hours for the entire trip.
We finished putting everything away and Steve asked if I wanted to head somewhere for dinner. I didn’t. I gave him a hug, told him no thanks. I did thank him for coming with me. But right about then, I just wanted to go home, crawl into a fetal position, and thank the gods that I was still alive.