The "Portal"
I do struggle a bit tying and covering the main when the wind pipes up. Main has a bolt rope and no slugs, so if the luff is not controlled as it comes down, it just flops all over the deck. I often go for the afternoon or evening sail solo. Not sure if I would like long passages solo. My boat (Beneteau First 235) is perfect for singlehanding. I like sailing with the right people on board, and have become very selective in who I ask. I often get frustrated sailing with non sailors (cockpit lizards) because I’m essentially singlehanding with a bunch of people in the way. Then I get slammed for aspects related more to weather than boat handling while stepping on their toes… It is also extremely difficult to fly the spin with non sailors in the cockpit. If I look around the boat and ask myself ,“Is this crew capable of handling man overboard without me?”, and the answer is,“No”, I don the life jacket, even if it is 105 deg! We’ve looked seriously at a larger boat, however I often ask, “Why?”. All that money and headache for more cockpit lizards, more maintenance, harder to solo? What are you thinking, have you gone MAD? Singlehanding is far easier. Singlehanding the spin is spectacular! You have complete responsibility and complete control of the vessel. The feel of the boat, the feeling that you are not skipper of this vessel and not seaman on this vessel, you are all to this vessel. Similarly you understand your fate has been completely entrusted to your boat. I probably maintain things different because of the singlehanding I do. I sail different based on the singlehanding I do. Life jacket always. No one will call 911 if I end up in the drink with the autohelm engaged! Yes, autopilots help for the sets and stuffs, but you are not singlehanding until the autopilot is OFF. Friday afternoon, 82 deg, sunny, going hard to weather, solo, in 12 kts, under main and 135 jib is hard to beat. Making those tiny tweaks on the traveler, sheets, back stay for the perfect slot, helm in hand, the boat becomes an extension of your body. I watch the wind and pick up the rhythm of the puffs and shifts. I ponder important stuff, “Does the left side look better today or the right?”, “Is the wind forecast to clock or veer?”. I try to move the boat efficiently to weather and pick my tacks carefully. The marina, the portal to the real world, fades to leeward. About halfway up the lake I feel my body and mind decompress. I realize I enjoy watching the wind move over the water more than watching a fire or the surf at an ocean beach. The boat really finds her stride as I move past the hot yacht club and I know we are rigged tight and sailing right. Passing sailboats marvel and even ask in amazement, “Are you alone?”. As I approach the dam I man the foredeck and set up the shute. I am lost in the lines and the dacron. The real world could not be further away. I jump in the cockpit and set the shute. Fantastic! As I keep an eye over my shoulder and work the puffs and shifts, I realize there is absolutely nothing else I’d rather be doing. I look around. The trees are just starting to turn here in Texas and this is probably the best time of the year here. No place I’d rather be. The downwind run goes quick, where did the time go! What time did I tell her I’d be home? Our portal draws near. Do I have time for some reaching before I head in? Time for this! Time for that? Yes, our portal draws near! As I enjoy the last few minutes before the stuff, I realize I was in the best of company all afternoon, just me and the little prow bow “Legacy”. I have great repect to the sea and been out when things have gone terribly wrong. Perhaps it is this that contributes to the sense of accomplishment as I am at minimum steerage speed, make one last check of the telltales and nail the landing! I have a wife and a son. I hope I can instill just a small part of my passion for sailing into my little guy. Hey is it Friday yet!! David Swingle
