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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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