Evening air, it seems, is definitely better than Sunday morning air! And maybe my sailing mojo isn't so bad after all.
I sailed again two nights ago. It was a great evening!
The temperatures were record high that day, near 90. It was a blessed relief to arrive at the marina just before 6:00 and immediately feel the cooling breeze coming off of the water.
It was a full boat - five of us on board. We were: yours truly, the skipper (Dale), my sailing buddy (Donna), a guy ("P") who Donna and I sailed with once last month out of Shilshole Marina near Seattle, and a new guy ("R") who was a fellow member of our sailing class. It was a bit crowded, but we all worked together pretty well. Aside from the fact that P and R had a penchant for standing shoulder to shoulder in the cockpit facing the bow (that's the front of the boat :), completely blocking the view ahead. Ah, guys - it's hard to steer when I can't see where I'm going! Blind helmsman (woman) here driving the boat!
The winds were decent, though less than Dale expected. He'd put up the smaller "jib" instead of the larger "genoa" as the head sail (as opposed to the mail sail). Weather forecasts had led him to believe the winds would be stronger, so he wanted to reduce sail area to keep the boat more manageable - thus the smaller jib. But then the winds didn't end up being that strong, nor the water that rough. Still, we moved, which was pleasant and gratifying.
I'm still waiting for "exhilirating," which is how I suspect that I'll really love sailing. But moving - actual power under sail - was still really a good feeling.
Donna said it perfectly for both of us when she remarked that this night was the first time on the boat where she actually felt halfway competent. (Dale had noted that she looked more relaxed behind the wheel.) (His boat has a wheel instead of a tiller, by the way.) That's how I felt this time, too. Halfway competent. Or at least, not entirely incompetent, for once. We all took turns "tailing" and "wenching" - part of attending to and adjusting the sails as we changed the boat's direction and "tacked" back and forth through the wind.
There's an incredible amount of force running against the sails on a boat of this size (24 feet, if I remember correctly, or maybe it's 28?), far far more than I experienced 10 years or so ago when I sailed little wooden dingies out on Lake Union! I'm finding that I struggle to translate my muscle and wind memory, which I still retain from that time, to a much bigger vessel.
Dale is a patient host and sailing educator. He made sure that we each took a decent long turn at the helm. Steering the boat is challenging! The current, wake from other boats, not to mention the ever-changing and elusive wind on the sails. The rudder and any minor turn you make to the wheel makes far more of a change to the boat's direction than do minor corrections at the wheel of a car. Nevermind such intricacies as running downwind with the jib poofed out to one side of the boat and the main sail poofed out to the other side. I'm glad I wasn't at the helm to embarass myself trying to keep THAT going. (As it was, I started to get a little queasy during "P's" learning time at the helm in that situation.) There's a nautical name for running with the sails this way but I can't remember it right now. So many terms for nautical things...
It was nice to find the skipper trusting me a bit more with his boat on this trip. He had me take the helm first, and last, and once or twice more while we were out. On our return trip to the marina, he left me at the helm much longer than I expected, actually having me motor all the way down the river and into the marina itself. He only finally took over just before we arrived at his dock.
Dale keeps careful care of his boat, which is part of what makes it nice to sail with him. I've learned a lot of his routine for closing up the boat and putting it to bed, such as how to put all the canvas covers over the main sail, the helm, the dodger, and so on. On this particular night I also learned how to "swab the deck." Yes, seriously. :) Not with a mop, as you might imagine, but with a long-handled brush and a bucket of soapy water.
Overall it was a great evening. Deck swabbing notwithstanding, I think I could live this life...
