Boat Journal

Chronicling a love affair with sailing

Soloing

Sunday, I had work to do. And what’s the best thing to do when you have deadlines to meet? Well, in the words of Bluto:

TOGA! TOGA!

Well, next best thing is to go sailing. So I did on Sunday.

Two weeks ago, we had some strong winds that ripped the jib. It’s in for repairs and, hopefully, will be done this week. In the meantime, Steve N. loaned me one of his. It’s a bit small for the vessel – it doesn’t reach the spreaders and it’s 7′ shorter on the luff that it should be. But I’m grateful to him, since I’m not dead in the water.

So I could have called someone to join me. But I really just wanted to be out there by myself.

I drove up to the marina, got a cart, loaded in Steve’s jib, grabbed some ice and headed down to the boat. I had finally remembered to pick up some extra oil – the engine was about a quart low. So I added that and checked the coolant level. Coolant looked fine.

I’d been meaning to take some time to cut the extra lines off the piling, so I grabbed my leatherman’s tool and did so. Not as many creatures growing on them as I suspected. But there were about 5 extra lines there, now gone.

I pulled off the spring line and started the engine. I took off the aft lines, put on the wheel lock, put the boat in forward and rushed forward to remove the forward lines.

It was about 2 hours before low tide when I headed out of the channel. I got stuck once, turned around, got unstuck and continued out. At 10′ depth, I put up the jib.

Roller furler jibs are a dream when your single-handing it, if they’re already installed. But trying to get that thing up single handing it was a pain. I finally got a balance between pulling on the halyard and getting it strung to get the thing up. I then tried to backwind it to keep the boat stable. Duh! That works when the main is pushed one way and the jib the other. Know what happens with one sail? Yup! The boat starts going in circles. Well, that was no problem. I was deep enough, and not drifting to shore. There were no nearby boats. So I turned more into the wind, set the wheel lock and started hoisting the main.

Of course, the boat starts turning off the wind as I hoist the main. So I turn on the auto pilot. But the auto pilot doesn’t do alot of good if you’re not moving forward. And I didn’t want to do that. So I just let the boat continue it’s lazy turn and I continued to hoist the main. I couldn’t quite get it to the top. But that was ok; I could get it the rest of the way later when I was under way and could turn on the auto pilot and face it into the wind.

The weather was perfect! The wind was about 10 knots and warm. And I just lazily moved across the river.

I figured I might just try to make it over to the R22 (further) channel buoy. I aimed for it, but had the same problem I have on Wednesday nights: the boat drifts towards starboard as much as it moves forward. I still need to get someone on board to help me figure out how to avoid doing that.

So, I just traveled around the cargo ship that was docked just outside the channel, taking my time, just me and Auto.

I really didn’t’ want to head back. But I didn’t want to get stuck coming in on low tide either.

Too late. I did. But not while in the channel, but after I reached the mouth of the creek. Who’d have thought? It’s usually safe by the time I get that far.

This time, though, I had a Good Samaritan in a small power boat help me out. She had one of her passengers grab a line from me. We tied it stern to bow and she pulled me out of the mud. I thanked her and proceeded to my slip.

Docking went perfectly! With no wind to fight at the docks, I backed the boat beautifully into my slip.

I love sharing my boating time with friends. But there’s something to be said, too, for just being on your own.

Prepare to Be Boarded!

So, the other night, we finished the race. Of course, at this time of year, it’s dark by the time it happens – for everyone, not just for us. 🙂 We were about 100 yards from the channel marker for Wormley Creek when a tremendously bright light shines on us from starboard. We’re thinking it’s some goofy power boat trying to find the channel, and everyone comments on it. Next thing we hear is “This is the United States Coast Guard! Please bring your boat to a stop!”

You know how your brain can have a thousand thoughts in those few seconds? Well, at least mine does. First thought. “Um yeah, this is a sailboat. I’ll stop it right now.” But my response to them was “I’ll do my best!” As I put the boat in reverse to slow the forward motion, they came beside us.

The Coastie in charge asked if I’d ever been stopped before. I said no, and he explained that this was a safety stop. He first asked for a copy of my registration and my driver’s license. I handed them over. He handed them to one of his crew members, who started typing the information into a PDA. Palm Pilot, I’d guess (no pun intended!). Then he said that he wanted to see some of the safety equipment on board. First he asked to see life jackets for everyone on the boat. There were 5 of us that night, so I went to the Vee-Berth and pulled out 5 life jackets. As I started to struggle through the cabin door, he said I didn’t have to see that many. Um yeah, isn’t that what you asked for?

After looking at the jacket, he asked to see the fire extinguishers. I pulled the one down that was right beside the cabin door and explained that there was a second in the locker aft. He said that was ok. He then asked about what safety courses I’d taken and I started to list them.

There were a couple of other things he asked, which I don’t remember right now. He then said that his fellow Coastie was typing my info into a form, and, should I be stopped again within the next year, I just needed to show them that form and I wouldn’t need to go through the process again.

When the second Coast Guard finished typing, she pulled a thermal printer out and printed the form. Um yeah, right. A thermal form on a boat is not going to be readable after a week, let alone a year. So I decided I’d better make a copy and keep that aboard, too.

The whole thing took about 20 minutes. By now, we’ve drifted backwards, of course. During the races, the current tends to pull us towards that side of the river. Go figure! So, it takes us an extra 20 – 30 minutes to get back to our channel, plus the time to find the markers in the dark and make it through, made for a very long night.

Sad part of it all? I’ve lost my “Get out of inspection free” card. I took it in, printed it, and have no idea where I put it.

Oh well!

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The Gamut of Weather

Last night, we left for the starting line of the race in very calm weather. No wind to speak of. Barely a ripple on the water. We got to the starting line and most of the other boats didn’t even have their mainsails up, let alone the jib unfurled.

About 5 minutes before our start time, the committee boat announced that it would stick around for 1/2 an hour to see if the wind situation improved. About 15 minutes later, one boat left, announcing that it was too hot and they were out of beer.

A little while later, we were watching another boat up the river, who was heeling over at about 15 degrees. He radioed back a few minutes later that the wind was heading our way.

And it did. Nice wind. Great sailing weather!

As usual, I got the start time off a bit. I was unsure that I’d noted the first horn correctly. But we were to the starting line only about a minute late. Problem was, another boat from the next fleet was coming along the starting line, and he was on starboard tack. So we did a 360 to get out of his way, and headed out.

The race was around one buoy, back to the start, then around the buoy a second time. But that wind was bringing in a storm, and folks started suggesting strongly that the race just be one loop.

There was some confusion about the course. The committee boat was clear as to what it was. Problem was that this was the first race of the fall series and the starting buoy had changed. It used to be the one we were rounding. Now it was one further up the river. And, when the committee boat announced the route, they kept confusing the buoy numbers.

We were doing great! We were not towards the front, but we stayed with the pack. Interesting thing, though. I was sailing close haul, but it actually increased our speed when I let the sails out a tad, rather than bringing them in tight. And I did note that we were at about a 15 degree heel, which does seem to be optimal for this boat.

As folks started to round the mark, the heavy clouds started rolling in. So the committee boat announced that it would, indeed, be one lap around instead of two.

But we were still approaching the mark. I had come up on starboard tack, hugging the side of the river. We tacked at what I thought would put us on a direct line for the buoy. I didn’t take into account the strong current and the fact the tide was coming in. So we were short the mark. Tacked again, then back toward the mark. Still too far down. Next time, tacked into it and we were close enough to see that we were making as much progress sideways, in the wrong direction as we were making forward.

We finally made it around the mark. But by now, the lightning was starting. We abandoned the race at that point and headed in. First one for which we had done so.

Great thing about the race was that we were close to the other boats. We had a fairly good start. We kept up good speed. So we’ve gotten past the first hurdle that has been holding us back tactically. Now I just need to learn to adjust better for the tides and currents when aiming for downriver markers.

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Bravery

So it’s finally happened. I’ve become comfortable with the weather extremes on a sailboat. I think it was this last trip to and from Cock Island that did it. Sailing through a storm, when we could barely see the flashes on the buoys, gave me the courage to know that I could survive just about any extreme.

I decided what it was. I felt in control. I had taken care of the sails. I had them where I wanted them. And I wasn’t worrying about having too much up.

Second part of the comfort level has been having Dew coach me during the races. He’s been awesome, being there to take over if I felt uncomfortable. It’s allowed me to see what my boat is capable of without being panicked that I was the only one onboard that knew what to do, which I felt I really didn’t.

Will anything else happen to scare the bejezuz out of me? I’m sure. But I feel more confident that I can hand whatever I find myself in.

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Catching Up

So much to write about! I thought of separating this in to different posts (to look like I’d written this over time). But that would be silly.

So….

Taking the Boat Down for Cock Island

I decided to take the boat over in two hops this time, rather than on long one. It was a mixed blessing doing so. The first day, we left about 3 in the afternoon, expecting to make the halfway point (Salt Ponds), within 5 hours. The weather prediction was for gale force winds, and, of course, I was nervous. But Steve had driven about an hour down to take the boat with me. And, not doing it in that time meant a long day on Friday. Steve checked the York River from Yorktown and called it good, so we set out.

Mistake of course. At least 3 hours while we were out there, there were heavy winds and 4-5′ waves. I wasn’t too nervous. I’d taken the time to roll in the jib and reef the main, so I was feeling in control. Bad part was the last hour and a half, when we had driving rain, lightening, and thunder.

stormy weather

Steve N., who was meeting us at Salt Ponds, to take us home for the evening, found a local, thank goodness! who could give us directions on how to get into the marina. Since it was now dark and visibility was poor, we appreciated his advice!

Friday was a dream. Not alot of wind and sailing, but very relaxing. Steve, his sister, Bethany, and her boyfriend, Larry, helped me get the boat the rest of the way into Portsmouth, where we docked right next to Steve R’s Excelsior.

Being next to the main party boat at Cock Island is a mixed blessing. Being next to the main party boat at Cock Island and having your moms come in to watch you race, well, it keeps you sober a bit longer. 😀

Cock Island Race

We ran a beautiful race! We started on time (hooray)! The winds were perfect. We flew the whole time. Mind you, we didn’t come in last, so we did okay. But the sailing was perfect, no matter what the outcome!

Going Home

Alex called the dockmaster at the private marina where he lives and was able to find us a slip for the week. So, going home we were able to break it up into two slices again. The first slice was the Saturday following Cock Island and the second that Sunday.

Jodi, her daugher, Shannon, Paul and Grant helped me take the boat from Portsmouth to Salt Ponds. Erik and I took it the rest of the way to Wormley Creek. Saturday was very relaxing. Wind kept shifting, so sailing was a challenge, but it was a good day on the water. Sunday was another wavy and windy day. Unfortunately, we were fighting the waves most of the time, so using the engine to make progress was the better bet.

All in all, though, it was a marvelous week.

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