Reef to Live/Live to Reef!

Doug Jones (djones@turbotek.net)
Wed, 12 May 1999 21:33:44 -0700


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West Wight Potter Website at URL
http://www.lesbois.com/wwpotter/
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"Reefing." I've always enjoyed it, even before I sailed... But now that =
I have tried it in a Potter, I am hooked!

It was an atypical day in the Puget Sound. There was wind. And not just =
the usual breeze that makes you spit in the water to see if you are =
actually moving, this was real wind. Six maybe 7 knots! Having wind so =
confused me that at first I was going in circles, tacking, jibing and =
trying to look like I had a purpose, as we floundered 50 yards from the =
marina. Finally, gaining control of the vessel, I headed for deep =
water. In no time I was even able to let the center board all the way =
down. Me and my sailing partner were feeling pretty pleased with =
ourselves and grinning from ear to ear kept shouting "We're sailing! =
We're sailing!"

Pride before the fall....

The wind picked up. It was one of those partially cloudy days, when =
large dark rain clouds move quickly in from the West (looking very =
ominous) and pushing large quantities of wind and rain before them. To =
a "real" sailor I'm sure these fresh breezes would be taken in stride, =
to a "fake" sailor they make little moaning noises escape between =
tightly clenched teeth. As I steered to weather with one hand and =
played the mainsheet like a dueling banjo with the other. (dueling =
banjo?) My sailing partner practically standing on the high side was =
saying things like:

"Why aren't you smiling? You look tense." (He's used to sailing Hobie =
Cats...)
"I'm fighting for our lives." I screamed. "We could die out here you =
know."
"Yeah right." He said. "Do you want me to get you something to eat?"
"Don't stand up! Don't even move!" I raved. "You're nothing to me but =
living ballast." "Do exactly as I say or I'll use the gun!" Normally, I =
am much more mild mannered, but these were abnormal times.=20

Objectively I would say we now had sustained winds of 10 knots and gusts =
from about 15 to 20 knots. (Hey, just because I was born in San =
Francisco, doesn't mean I could sail there...)

As my entire life flashed before my eyes, I eventually got to the part =
where I joined the Potter e-mail list. (That's you guys.) It was then =
out of a fog of fear, the idea of reefing came slowing to my panic =
stricken mind.

"Strike the top gallant!" I cried. "I mean roll the furling!" "Deploy =
the halyard!" I finally said with conviction.
"What?" My crew asked? He hadn't taken basic sailing so I needed to =
resort to lubber terms.
"Make the big sail smaller." I finally said.
To which my crew replied "How?"

This was a good question. For although I had read about it, I had never =
actually done it. (This was the second time I have had this problem, the =
first time I was 16...)

"Release the main halyard, the thick pink and white rope on the left" =
Was my first instruction. The boom only fell as far as the top of my =
head. "Tighten it back up, quick!" "We need to attach the topping =
lift, the small pink and white rope on the left."=20
"Make up your mind." He had the nerve to say.
"I've still got the gun." I warned.

This is when you don't want a self-tailing jib. It won't luff. It does =
it selfish job very well and always finds air. Pushing you to a nice =
comfortable broad reach. In a storm, with the boom hitting you in the =
head and a mutinous crew!
"Drop the jib!" "The thick pink and white rope on the right, but first =
you must release the downhaul, the thin pink and white rope on the =
right..." (I need to change those colors..)

"Now attach that little clip in that hole and the other little clip in =
the other hole." "Tie the bottom with the red strings and hoist the =
main back up." I ordered. (I could get used to this "Captain" thing.)

And then like magic it happened. We were reefed! And instantly the =
world changed. No longer was I the quaking victim of a paralyzing fear. =
NO! I was the master of a stout and worthy vessel. Ready to take on =
the best the sea could throw at me. Gusts? I scoffed at gusts! Waves? =
Let them roll! Dashing through 3 foot seas, spraying salt water over =
my crew and smiling again. I am Potterer, hear me ROAR! I was REEFED!

If you haven't tried it you don't know what your missing. :-)

Doug
"Sputnik" 588 14'
Olympia
A striking young titan of a man
Wallowing in the Puget Sound
(0 to 5 knot winds. Waves: non-existent. Chops: Pork

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"Reefing."  I've = always enjoyed=20 it, even before I sailed... But now that I have tried it in a Potter, I = am=20 hooked!
 
It was an atypical day in the Puget = Sound. There=20 was wind.  And not just the usual breeze that makes you spit in the = water=20 to see if you are actually moving, this was real wind.  Six maybe 7 = knots!  Having wind so confused me that at first I was going in = circles,=20 tacking, jibing and trying to look like I had a purpose, as we = floundered 50=20 yards from the marina.  Finally, gaining control of the vessel, I = headed=20 for deep water.  In no time I was even able to let the center board = all the=20 way down.  Me and my sailing partner were feeling pretty pleased = with=20 ourselves and grinning from ear to ear kept shouting "We're = sailing! We're=20 sailing!"
 
Pride before the = fall....
 
The wind picked up.  It was one = of those=20 partially cloudy days, when large dark rain clouds move quickly in from = the West=20 (looking very ominous) and pushing large quantities of wind and rain = before=20 them.  To a "real" sailor I'm sure these fresh breezes = would be=20 taken in stride, to a "fake" sailor they make little moaning = noises=20 escape between tightly clenched teeth.  As I steered to weather = with one=20 hand and played the mainsheet like a dueling banjo with the other. = (dueling=20 banjo?)  My sailing partner practically standing on the high side = was=20 saying things like:
 
"Why=20 aren't you smiling? You look tense." (He's used to sailing Hobie=20 Cats...)
"I'm = fighting for our=20 lives." I screamed.  "We could die out here you=20 know."
"Yeah = right." He=20 said. "Do you want me to get you something to = eat?"
"Don't = stand up! Don't=20 even move!" I raved.  "You're nothing to me but living=20 ballast." "Do exactly as I say or I'll use the = gun!" =20 Normally, I am much more mild mannered, but these were abnormal times.=20
 
Objectively I would say we now had = sustained=20 winds of 10 knots and gusts from about 15 to 20 knots. (Hey, just = because I was=20 born in San Francisco, doesn't mean I could sail there...)
 
As my entire life flashed before my = eyes, I=20 eventually got to the part where I joined the Potter e-mail list. = (That's you=20 guys.)  It was then out of a fog of fear, the idea of reefing came = slowing=20 to my panic stricken mind.
 
"Strike the top gallant!" = I=20 cried.  "I mean roll the furling!" "Deploy the=20 halyard!" I finally said with conviction.
"What?"  My crew = asked?  He=20 hadn't taken basic sailing so I needed to resort to lubber = terms.
"Make the big sail = smaller." I finally=20 said.
To which my crew replied = "How?"
 
This was a good question.  For although I had = read about=20 it, I had never actually done it. (This was the second time I have had = this=20 problem, the first time I was 16...)
 
"Release the main halyard, the thick pink and = white rope=20 on the left" Was my first instruction.  The boom only fell as = far as=20 the top of my head.  "Tighten it back up, quick!"  = "We=20 need to attach the topping lift, the small pink and white rope on the=20 left."
"Make up your mind." He had the nerve to=20 say.
"I've = still got the=20 gun." I warned.
 
This is when you don't want a self-tailing = jib.  It won't=20 luff.  It does it selfish job very well and always finds air.  = Pushing=20 you to a nice comfortable broad reach.  In a storm, with the boom = hitting=20 you in the head and a mutinous crew!
"Drop the jib!" "The thick pink and = white rope=20 on the right, but first you must release the downhaul, the thin pink and = white=20 rope on the right..." (I need to change those = colors..)
 
"Now attach that little clip in that hole and = the other=20 little clip in the other hole."  "Tie the bottom with the = red=20 strings and hoist the main back up." I ordered. (I could get used = to this=20 "Captain" thing.)
 
 And then like magic it = happened. We were=20 reefed!  And instantly the world changed.  No longer was I the = quaking=20 victim of a paralyzing fear. NO!  I was the master of a stout and = worthy=20 vessel.  Ready to take on the best the sea could throw at me.  = Gusts?  I scoffed at gusts!  Waves?  Let them roll!  = Dashing=20 through 3 foot seas, spraying salt water over my crew and smiling = again.  I=20 am Potterer, hear me ROAR! I was REEFED!
 
If you haven't tried it you don't know what your = missing.=20 :-)
 
Doug
"Sputnik" 588 14'
Olympia
A striking young titan of a man
Wallowing in the Puget Sound
(0 to 5 knot winds.  = Waves:=20 non-existent. Chops: Pork
 
 
 
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