Learn to Sail the Hard Way follows the misfortunes of a young man as he attempts to conquer the art of sailing from being a land-locked dreamer to a somewhat competent boater. Our intrepid hero, Skip Murphy, moves to the coast from his prairie home and is convinced he can easily learn the art of sailing through trial and error. He experiences a lot of challenges, and learns from mistakes made along the way. Chapter 4 finds him setting out for his first day of actually sailing after an extended period of time shopping for, buying and naming his dream boat. The book follows Skip’s exploits through overnighting, taking guests out and achieving some level of competence. Part 2 of the book finds a (perhaps) overconfident Skip and his wife Muffy embarking on a Caribbean charter, where a whole new set of challenges test his knowledge. Through it all, by making every mistake in the book, he achieves a certain level of achievement that allows him to continue to ply the ocean waves. Humour is the vehicle that provides the learning. Part 3 of the book distills the lessons learned into a checklist of what NOT to do when learning how to sail. Enjoy!
Chapter 4: Skip Casts Off
Speed, bonny boat, like a bird on the wing. ‘Onward’ the sailor’s cry;
Carry the lad that’s born to be king, over the sea to Skye.
—Sir H. E. Bolton, ‘Skye Boat Song’
Skip decided to ignore Muffy’s suggestion that he take sailing lessons. He felt that he knew enough through his reading and he was anxious to get out on the water. He could not wait to take Passing Wind out for a sail in the bay. He went down to the marina after work, looking very dapper in his new boat shoes and all-weather floater coat. He drew some stares, as it was May and the weather was pleasant and warm. He was ready to go. He got his trusty British Seagull outboard to start up on the third crank, but was delayed from leaving the dock because he could not undo the firmly knotted dock lines he had tied with such passion when he first docked his dream boat. Since he didn’t know any proper boating knots, he had used the multiple half hitch, also known as the ‘spaghetti knot’ or the ‘granny knot.’ It was so named because even his granny could not have tied or untied this knot with her best crochet hook. He borrowed a hacksaw to cut through the dock lines, and made another mental note to learn more knots and belaying hitches. Since he knew he would be coming back, he left the frayed lines on the dock and headed out.
With his famous British Seagull whirring away, Skip turned it into reverse and attempted to get safely out of the slip. After a few awkward and frightening spins inside the finger slips, narrowly missing a number of solid and floating objects, he finally got his trusty boat away from the finger float and out into the channel between the slips. In his wisdom, he thought that the only way to get out into open water was by heading out full speed—in reverse of course, with all fenders flapping against the sides of the hull. Having fenders in the water long after the boat has left the marina is the internationally recognized signal to other boaters that they are in the path of a ‘student driver.’ Experienced boaters are thus forewarned to expect the unexpected.
Skip proceeded to venture out beyond the marina, under the bridge and out towards the Bay. However, upon reaching the narrowest part of the channel leading to the Bay, and in heavy boat traffic, the reliable Seagull quit suddenly and without warning. Neither cursing nor pleading would start the motor, and after about three thousand pulls on the starter cord he determined that an alternative course of action was in order. He knew that the gas tank was full, so he was perplexed as to why it wouldn’t run. He desperately fished for the manual, looking for the troubleshooting guide, but he had misplaced it somewhere in the cabin amidst the piloting and offshore cruising guides to the Azores. He found a spark plug wrench, but did not know how to use it. In all his readings, he had never learned a thing about outboard engines.
He attempted to quickly pull off the sail cover and attach a halyard, but he was distracted by the fact that with the incoming tide he was drifting ever closer to the rocks at the foot of the bridge. He got out an oar and frantically began trying to paddle away from the shore as wash from several passing boats, engines all purring along, pushed him back against the shore. He was surprised how ineffective paddling was when trying to propel a heavy wooden boat against an incoming tide.
Skip’s fortunes got a boost, however when a passing low profile rumbling powerboat, a RamJet 34,000 Turbo XT Stealth Dagger, saw that he needed assistance and, in true maritime tradition, came over to help. Of course, there was no way to be discreet about this little incident. Crowds had begun to gather on the bridge above as the little boat drifted ever closer to the rocks. Adding to the spectacle was the fact that the sleek powerboat that had come to offer assistance seemed to have the complete bikini-clad cast of ‘Girls Gone Wild’ on the forward deck. The powerboat skipper skillfully maneuvered his twin engine yacht right up to the little sailboat. Since Skip had left his lines on the dock, the power boat skipper handed him an oversized tow line, which he attached to the bow cleat with his now patented ‘spaghetti knot’.
The RamJet pulled ahead, but even at idle speed Passing Wind plowed along with the bow wave foaming ahead of the little boat. From the shore it looked like an angry Moby Dick was chasing Captain Ahab across the bay, with Skip barely hanging on. He waived frantically to the power boat Samaritan to slow down as he was pulled away from danger. The ladies on the RamJet politely waived back. This continued for several hundred yards until the cleat, still firmly attached to the line with his patented knot, finally ripped out of the foredeck and skipped across the bay like a flying fish. The RamJet 34,000 skipper waved as if to indicate that there was no need to thank him and took his craft out of idle and disappeared over the horizon at warp speed.
Out of danger at last, and out of the exhaust fumes of the RamJet, Skip was free to try his skills at sailing, with a gentle onshore breeze assisting him. In an effort to get the halyard ready he inadvertently let go the topping lift instead, abruptly dropping the heavy wooden boom right on his head. He made a note to label the lines to reduce the bumps on his nautical noggin. After some time and experimentation, Skip eventually figured out which one of the lines was the jib halyard and wanted to make sure he could get the sail up without a snag. To check out the condition of the lines and their trip to the masthead, he pulled smoothly on the halyard, sending the jib shackle all the way to the masthead where it remained nice and secure. Without the jib attached, of course. It stayed there until his trip to the mast tower back at the marina, giving Skip something new to do on the weekend. Today, however, nothing was going to stop him from getting his stallion running across the bay!
Skip set the mainsail, and with no jib halyard to raise the jib he hoisted the small cutter jib. In the true novice boater tradition he put the sails up loose, with plenty of scallops on both sails, giving a clear “stand off” signal to all other boaters in the Bay. After finally getting all the sheets in order, the little boat actually started making way in the light breeze. Skip was ecstatic! It actually worked! All of his reading was finally being rewarded. The boat was on a reach, and was actually pulling along with a little swirling wake following behind Passing Wind. He immediately forgot all of his previous hardships and let out a “Yahoo!” that could be heard all across the bay. This was it, the first installment of his dream come true. Skip was sailing!
