Happy Weather Gods

I feel like I only blog about sailing when we’ve had a distressing sail- when the weather wins- when it’s dramatic, trying, wet and cold. Perhaps you are starting to think we never have a peaceful sail, the wind is never our ally, we never come home rested, warm, and dry. But you would be wrong (though only a little bit...). Sometimes we do have wonderful sailing trips, and last week proves it. I will now share with you not one, or two, but THREE wonderful sailing adventures. All in one week!

Number One:

We were stowing the boat in preparation for our departure on Tuesday afternoon with rain pelting the cabin top, loud enough to make us raise our voices. A bright flash just south of us was followed by a deep shuddering rumble. More than unusual out here, lightening is a perplexing event to Seattlites.

Sorry, couldn’t resist … I know, I promised- no dramatic sailing stories. (but it really happened!)

But by the time we untied the lines at 3, that storm cell had moved on and there was a small break in the clouds. We could see the next system sliding up the sound, and made a run for it. Our plan was simply to cross the sound, a 7-mile trip, and tie up at Kingston for the night. Graeme and Janna and the kids were sailing next to us on Pegasus, Janna’s parents’ Freedom 37.

For the first time in too many sails, the wind was behind us. It was strong, gale-force even, but we weren’t bashing into it. Just past the breakwaters, we hoisted the sails and cut the engine. The boat powered up and plunged through the water, racing the 5’ crashers across the sound, graceful and compelling. We sat back and drove, watching Halcyon in her element.

In a minute, we were sliding into the marina, sails flaked, and still dry. The first raindrops blemished the deck just as we tied the last line to the dock.

Number Two:

Wednesday’s forecast was for even more wind, and seemed accurate from the dock. We pushed off around noon (when the tide was favorable) and snuck out just before the front of another storm. The destination was Port Townsend, 30 or so miles away.

Sails up, engine off. Once again Halcyon did her job, the wind pulling her powerfully, the waves providing an extra lift. Riding down one wave, we hit 11 knots, 3 knots faster than our hull speed. It was invigorating, but exhausting. The wind was flukey- strong gusts hit us from varying directions, making it hard to predict and even harder to steer.

We must have worn out the wind, because by the afternoon it had diminished, the waves settled and the air relaxed. We fired up the engine and motor-sailed for a while, until we heard that gut-wrenching sound-- ka-CHUNK. The engine off again, John went below to check it out.

We’ve had some issues losing bolts off our shaft coupler for a while now- and apparently the problem was getting worse. All three bolts sheered and two of them jammed themselves deep in the coupler. (that means we have no steerage) I kept the boat controlled and moving slowly under sail while John managed a single replacement bolt. We sailed right up to the breakwater, dropped the sails, turned the engine back on, and held our breath. The bolt held, and we were able to limp up to the dock. (Hey, I promised happy sailing stories, not happy motoring stories...)

Well, that’s why we have a sailboat.

On Friday, John and Graeme took the coupler apart, found the underlying problem, and fixed her right up. 

Number Three:

We left early Sunday morning, this time with the Esareys on board with us, our minds at ease with our newly functioning shaft connection.

But it’s a sailboat, afterall.

So right out of the marina, the main went up. As we waited for the wind to fill in, we munched on French toast and talked about sails. It was time for a serious sail inspection.

After breakfast, we hoisted our asymmetrical spinnaker, first with a pole, then without, then—well, I’ll spare you the nautical details. We spent the whole day hoisting sails, jibing back and forth, trying different lines, dropping them, hoisting them again and doing lots of figurin’. Graeme was a huge help, as always, and it was fun to see all those sails.

The wind was light, but began to build in the afternoon, once again behind us (three in a row? this never happens). Our most recent hoist was our enormous colorful symmetrical spinnaker. It’s a huge compelling kite that pulls the boat along like a toy. It filled, and we took off. We made a dramatic re-entrance into Seattle, flying along Golden Gardens beach going 9 knots under a great big rainbow of a kite. How exhilarating.

 And of course I can’t neglect the days between sails number two and three— four days full of smoked turkeys, wine tasting, beach walks, card games, marathon cooking, football watching, fresh caught crabs, and endless silliness. Thank you, Cawrses, for hosting us with such style! 

Habits, Chapters, and Phones

I am a creature of habit. Many daily tasks in my life I do the same way today than I did when I was 12. My childhood teddy bear still sleeps on my pillow with me. I always take showers in the same order. I put my bag in the same place when I get home, every time. I have always been happy when things stay the same- same Christmas traditions, same dinner seating arrangements, same toothbrush location, same cell phone number.

John is the opposite. It is not that he doesn’t like routine, it’s that he’s diametrically opposed to it. He decided he wanted to start drinking coffee in the morning. On the 4^th morning, he didn’t make coffee—he was sick of the routine. He prefers it when things stay fluid and variable- he moves icons around on his desktop, has 3 different sticks of deodorant in various locations in the boat and truck, and never makes a meal the same way twice.

I do not understand John’s opposition to routine, and he certainly does not understand my infatuation with it. But we respect that characteristc in each other, and it keeps us both balanced. I encourage him to have enough routine to remember important things- like picking up his keys and cell phone before walking out the door, and he helps me break my attachment to absurdly insignificant material things (like my travel shampoo bottle, which I’ve used since high school, that “we” lost)

I used to dread the closing of a chapter – the end of a summer spent doing the same thing almost every day; moving out of a dorm room, apartment, or house; even changing my email address made me nostalgic. This may surprise you, knowing my lifestyle now. I’ve come a long way.

Last week I closed a chapter. To most, the chapter would never have been so long. To many, the event would have gone unnoticed. To a few, it would bring a moment of hesitation, a hint of sadness, an occasion of commemoration. But to persist through that moment- to turn your sights forward, into what is to come, to celebrate the new chapter, the exciting opportunities as yet unrealized. That is what I have learned to do.

I got a new phone number. Yes, you’ll say- you’ve had 6 numbers in the last 2 years, we can’t keep up! I know, but through all of that, I still had my number. The one I was issued with my first cell phone at age 15, the phone that only stored 20 contacts, had no caller id, and was the size of my face. The number that has been associated with my identity through high school, through college, past Ghana, into the move to Seattle, even in Canada it is the number I used most often.

It’s important, though, to close chapters, to allow room for new ones to open. Yes, I paused. Yes, my heart twinged, just a bit. But I did it. And there were no tears or tantrums or anything. This is how John balances me.

And in the vein of changed contact information, I also have a new last name, email address, mailing address, and physical address. I believe now we’re talking less about chapters and more about whole books…

Who knows what kind of wack-o’s have access to this blog, so I’m not going to post all that private information here, ‘cause I’m not that interested in stalkers these days. But if you want that information, send a comment or email and if I like you enough, I’ll tell ya how to reach me :-) 

And if you're really lucky, I'll give you John's new number too.