Old man sailing

You an'me, we sweat an' strain,
Body all achin' an' racket wid pain,
Tote dat barge!

Lif' dat bale!

For two days now, 'my body's all aching' . . . But at long last I did get my boat in the water. She floated! The sails went up, I cast off the dock lines.

The outing was planned for Monday, but early morning there were thick clouds in front of the rising sun and no wind. Sailing with no wind - well. After weeks working on a system to get that mast up by myself and then working on this messed up rigging that she brought with her, I wanted to see her and feel her in her element. But without wind - well . . . So, I postponed my departure from home for the lake and somewhere around nine or a bit later I saw some leaves shake in the trees and decided to try it anyway. Got to the lake about ten and worked with this mast raising system and got the boat ready to launch by about noon. 

The launch was a first for me. I had never before practiced to back that trailer, but eventually I got it down into the water. That ramp on the Harriman reservoir is so flat, I wound up with my car standing in water with all four wheels, the exhaust bubbling under water before I got that boat to float. I set sail and cast off in a nice breeze a little later, heading south towards the dam. The wind was fresh and the boat felt fine. Cruising comfortably before the wind, she was very sensitive to the rudder and felt properly trimmed, keeping on course even when I let the tiller go.

About two miles down, the lake takes a turn and I drifted into chaos. Either the light air we had so far had died that moment, or it was belt back by the surrounding hills. When there was a puff, it came unpredictably from any direction of the wind rose. The sails hung from the mast, flopping back and forth and the boom swing overhead you would not have dared raise your head from between your shoulders. It is kind of frustrating to see swarms of  kayaks pass you while you are fighting to catch every breath heaven sends you. And there were many, many Kayaks. I really felt in the wrong company. The vision of a yacht slicing the waves majestically under full sail remains a dream under such conditions and is replaced by a vision of laundry hanging from a pole.

After a long time of fruitless maneuvering I gave up on reaching the dam and turned back. As soon as I turned the bend of the lake where this mess had started, I caught wind. The turbulence on the water then was on account of the hills. The breeze had freshened to about seven or eight mph and made for nice runs, tacking up to the north. With every stronger puff the boat luffed determinedly and one had to give constant attention to tiller and the control of the sails. The kayaks were on their way back up also, hugging the shore line and it so happened that at every point where I intended to tack, there were some of them. This lake is a bit narrow with the wind coming straight down through the valley. Thus, I had only a few hundred yards of straight sailing before I had to get out of my seat, switch to the other side and reset the sails. Also, the wind kept turning about ninety degrees and just when I got all settler after the turn it would shift ant instead of coming hard on the bow it would hit square into the side and the boat would leap forward with sudden speed and heel, at one point some thirty degrees, at which point the water is rushing past the gunnals. Action was uninterupted. But she kept moving along and after each heel righted herself proudly.

Eventually I got to the northern end of the lake. No big kayak traffic there. I had space to take the sails down and get my electric motor started and cruise back down that half mile or so to the dock. Maneuvering the boat to the dock with that motor was a joy. fortunately, the dock lies in a protected area and I had not to fight strong wind with its mere 3 HP. I got packed up and ready to head home just before total sunset.

About half way home, the trailer hitch released and the trailer reared up on my tail gate and the boat came through the rear window with a sound like a canon shot and in the rear view mirror the bow of the boat inside the car  looked as if the great white shark was rearing up behind me.

I was able to unhook the trailer, but it was too heavy for me to get the nose wheel down so I drove home and went looking for Chip. It was a little after eight and he was in bed already, getting ready for his early rise for work the next morning. Brenda talked to me through their house door and Chip woke up and heard us and came out to see what was up and then got dressed and we headed back to the trailer. Checking everything in the beam of his flashlight, we found no damage to boat, trailer or hitch. I had put no pin in the lock because in the dark I could not find the hole and so I put my fate at his mercy. That was my mistake. But we hooked up to my car again and drove home. The abrupt stop the trailer made had caused the boat slip forward some four inches into the nose cradle and that was enough of a weight shift to give me real positive tongue weight and the boat followed the car like a well trained dog. Before the rig was bouncing around like an unbroken bronco and you could feel the jerking in the steering wheel. with the boat in the position where it settles naturally when it is pulled out of the water, it sits behind the nose cradle and leaves a tongue weight of next to none to perhaps 50 pounds. The next day I spent getting quotes for repair. Then I negotiated with the insurance agent in Goldsboro. Now I am hoping to get things rolling and the rear end repaired before the rain starts again. We have yet a few days of dry weather in the forecast.

But my physical reaction to that day on a sail boat? I am aching from the soles of my feet to base of my skull. Every muscle hurts, every joint feels like it was overworked, and I'm dragging through the day like a grandpa under the weight of a hundred or more years of his life.

But it was beautiful. For the time being, I got my fill. Four to five hours set-up and take-down is in no relation to perhaps four hours or fewer hours of sailing. But it was, all in all, a very good day. I am very much looking forward to haul this boat down to the coast of NC and have it rigged and ready to spend whole days on the water and in the winds that we often have down there.