OK, first time stories.
We got to the ramp a little later than I planned. The wind was gusting. There were plenty of white caps to be seen.
My wife, Pam, and I stepped the mast alone for the first time. My son was absent. It took us an hour since the wind was around 20MPH and the shrouds and stays kept jambing and catching. Finally it was up.
I positioned the trailer at the edge of the water, and had my wife chock the truck tires. We swapped duties, I pulled the tiedowns, and had Pam back into the water. A couple of good shoves and the Phoenix was afloat. Pam pulled the trailer out, the wind gusted and swung the back end of the boat towards the concrete ramp. So I jumped on the dock with bowline, ran as far as I could and pulled with all my might. She got 1/2 way around but still hit the dock.
So, we got her under way, and sailed into the harbor. 15-20 MPH winds with gusts to 35. About 7 miles away, my wife trimmed the jib. One good pull on the sheet, the winch flew off and landed in my lap, lock ring still intact. The internal post is fractured beyond repair. Well, the jib's rolled up so I shrugged and tacked to starbord to go around into the lee of an island. On the other side, the wind picked up again so, trimming and adjusting course as needed, me made our way towards Fort Gorgeous. I glanced at the mainsail telltales and noted how there was now several feet between the luff of the main and the mast. The plastic slugs were exploding; the sail virtually unzipping itself from the mast. So, we casually dropped sail and motored back to the dock.
On aproach to the dock, the wind to our back, I crept toward the stern of the boat ahead of us, the very pretty, doubtless expensive boa ahead of us. Full reverse on my little kicker was having no affect. I yelled for Pam to take the helm, ran to the bow, fell butt-over-tea-kettle, grabbed the bow line, jumped to the dock, and did my Hercules impression. We stopped with 10 feet to spare . . maybe. Pam passed the stern line to me and we tied up, wind howling. The other folks pulled out, so we went to move the Phoenix closer to the ramp, Pam lost her footing and the line. The boat, caught by the wind, swung out with me on the bowline, recounting Hercules again. She's now backwards to the ramp. I told Pam to take the bowline, jump on the boat and before it comes about, run to the bow, slip the line around the unimportant stuff like the mast and the standing rigging, pass it to me, then take the stern line, which is now on the wrong side of the boat, uncleat it, recleat it on the correct side and pass it to me so I can slip both lines under the rails of the dock and do the Hercules thing again. We loaded her with no trouble, hauled her to the parking lot and sat for a while.
So . . . .
A) Don't go sailing when the winds are over 30 MPH
B) Get a bigger kicker
C) Force my son to join us
D) Get a couple extra control lines
E) All the above
We got to the ramp a little later than I planned. The wind was gusting. There were plenty of white caps to be seen.
My wife, Pam, and I stepped the mast alone for the first time. My son was absent. It took us an hour since the wind was around 20MPH and the shrouds and stays kept jambing and catching. Finally it was up.
I positioned the trailer at the edge of the water, and had my wife chock the truck tires. We swapped duties, I pulled the tiedowns, and had Pam back into the water. A couple of good shoves and the Phoenix was afloat. Pam pulled the trailer out, the wind gusted and swung the back end of the boat towards the concrete ramp. So I jumped on the dock with bowline, ran as far as I could and pulled with all my might. She got 1/2 way around but still hit the dock.
So, we got her under way, and sailed into the harbor. 15-20 MPH winds with gusts to 35. About 7 miles away, my wife trimmed the jib. One good pull on the sheet, the winch flew off and landed in my lap, lock ring still intact. The internal post is fractured beyond repair. Well, the jib's rolled up so I shrugged and tacked to starbord to go around into the lee of an island. On the other side, the wind picked up again so, trimming and adjusting course as needed, me made our way towards Fort Gorgeous. I glanced at the mainsail telltales and noted how there was now several feet between the luff of the main and the mast. The plastic slugs were exploding; the sail virtually unzipping itself from the mast. So, we casually dropped sail and motored back to the dock.
On aproach to the dock, the wind to our back, I crept toward the stern of the boat ahead of us, the very pretty, doubtless expensive boa ahead of us. Full reverse on my little kicker was having no affect. I yelled for Pam to take the helm, ran to the bow, fell butt-over-tea-kettle, grabbed the bow line, jumped to the dock, and did my Hercules impression. We stopped with 10 feet to spare . . maybe. Pam passed the stern line to me and we tied up, wind howling. The other folks pulled out, so we went to move the Phoenix closer to the ramp, Pam lost her footing and the line. The boat, caught by the wind, swung out with me on the bowline, recounting Hercules again. She's now backwards to the ramp. I told Pam to take the bowline, jump on the boat and before it comes about, run to the bow, slip the line around the unimportant stuff like the mast and the standing rigging, pass it to me, then take the stern line, which is now on the wrong side of the boat, uncleat it, recleat it on the correct side and pass it to me so I can slip both lines under the rails of the dock and do the Hercules thing again. We loaded her with no trouble, hauled her to the parking lot and sat for a while.
So . . . .
A) Don't go sailing when the winds are over 30 MPH
B) Get a bigger kicker
C) Force my son to join us
D) Get a couple extra control lines
E) All the above
