The First Sail

The day for the first sail arrived. Fog had been threatening, but the sun was shining bright when Brittany gave a speech and splashed some white wine over Eurydice's bow. A few minutes later we  launched her and struggled to rig her afloat for the first time. I was hesitant to raise both sails in the little space, lest we be blown into the docks and other boats, so we sailed out the harbour under jib alone. It was slow going - but we were sailing.

Eurydice ready to launch.

            We ran with the wind until we cleared the last channel-marker and turned on a starboard tack, heading up the bay toward a popular beach. After about a mile it was time to tack, but I found she wasn’t making enough speed to bring her head around. After a couple failed attempts, we turned the other way and gybed instead.

            Comfortable with the jib, I decided to raise the mainsail – easier said than done, with a fair breeze and no way to keep our bow into the wind. After much flapping, a lot of cursing, and being blown about a mile to leeward, the mainsail was raised and we were making much better progress.

Sun and sails.

            We tacked back into the wind, back toward the beach, with me explaining the ropes to Brittany as we progressed. She didn’t much care for heeling, but she picked up the theory very quickly and kept a constant eye on the jib.

            Some problems were apparent by this point. Under any speed, the rudder sprung up so that only its last quarter was in the water. This led to a scene where I, leaning over the stern, pliars in one hand and a screwdriver in the other, tightened the rudder bolt while I steered with my leg. After that is ceased to give problems, but I know it’ll come up again.

            Another issue was the radbud scuppers, with their one-way ping-pong ball valves; they didn’t work at all. The ping-pong balls merely bubbled around while water poured in through the scupper holes. This taught us to sit forward, but I don’t like the idea that moving to the stern will sink my boat.

            We tacked up until we were almost to the beach and had just rounded a small rocky island when Brittany said it was time for her to get back. This was the best part of the day – being so far to windward from the harbour, I pointed her bow back toward the entrance and let out sail with the wind coming over our port quarter. Eurydice positively flew along, heeling over so that we were both leaning out with our feet under the toe-strap to keep her even, and making a lovely wake.

            We rounded the breakwater and tacked back up the harbour, feeling ourselves near experts at the maneuver now (compared to our earlier, clumsy attempts), but two things of interest happened on what should have been the last tack to approach the boat ramp. The first was that my tiller extension, which I’d constructed quickly out of soft wood, snapped off at the universal joint. The second was that Brittany misunderstood my instructions and uncleated the centerboard early, and it promptly lifted. I didn’t realize this at first, but what had previously been forward movement changed suddenly to a confusing, sideways slip. There was no better way to illustrate the centreboard’s function than to try sailing close-hauled without it.

            A few tacks later with the centerboard down and we were back at the boat ramp, where we went through the minutia of de-rigging the little boat and loading her back onto the trailer.

Secure on the trailer.

            I learned a lot during those few hours, and most of them reinforced that I need more and more practice on the water. I’m heading to sea for work for the next two weeks, however, so it’ll be early July before I can sail again.

            The little boat has come a long way.