Jack and I had discussed taking his 16 foot Tanzer boat out for a sail on Lake Winnipesaukee. Today would be the day. Jack had spent yesterday clearing his calendar so he could take today off. It was partly cloudy without a trace of wind early in the day. But, we were not to be discouraged. Around 10AM, the trees began to stir a bit. By 10:30 all of the final preparation had been completed: the boat trailer was hitched to the truck; the main sail, jib and genoa were stowed in the pick-ups bed; lunches were made and we were off to the lake.
Our initial plan was to sail from Wolfeborough to Alton which we estimated would take about three hours. Carol, having accompanied us in the truck, would hang around Wolfeborough until we were certain that we were on our way; then she would drive Jack’s truck and trailer to Alton to meet us. By the time we arrived at the boat ramp, the partly cloudy had become overcast. The wind was freshening and the temperature was bordering on cold. We were dauntless in our quest and continued preparations. The mast and boom were set. The main and jib were in place, anxious to be hoisted. Lunch, charts, cell phones and GPS were all stowed inside our trusty vessel. Jack backed the trailer down the ramp and into the water. With a little tug on the bow rope, the Tanzer was urged off of the trailer and towards the dock where it was to be tied, while we parked the truck and trailer.
Vehicles parked and last minute items attended to, it was time to hoist the sails and embark on our crossing. We bid Carol adieu and ventured forth into Wolfeborough Bay. The wind pushed nice wavelets across the water as Jack moved us comfortably away from the dock. He knew he would need one tack to get us in position for our run by Little Barn Door Island and into the main body of the lake. This would provide me ample time to get a feel for handling the jib. The land mass, trees and building around inland lakes effect the wind and this lake is no different. As we worked our way to windward the wind became a bit puffy as it fought its way across and through the shoreline obstacles. We made our tack. Climbing higher into the wind we made a second tack and set course for the open part of the bay. The nice wavelets we experienced early on had become 6-12 inch white caps as the wind was now able to race across the water unimpeded. Now, as the walrus said, the time had come for our next course adjustment, a jibe.
Jack asked what I knew about jibing. My response was that jibes with boats and sailboards are only similar in that both are down wind turns. Then with an air of total confidence, Jack initiated the jibe. Within a nanosecond, a whole host of things went wrong. No, we didn’t dump the boat. Let’s just say it was a bit exciting, we took on some water and we didn’t complete the turn. It took just a few minutes to get our act back together. With everything settled down, we waited for a bit of a lull and then as Jack said, just cheated around to our downwind course.
Little Barn Door, here we come. Running just off the wind, we were surfing the waves that were now closer to 18 inches. Jack was quite the helmsman as he rolled the boat down the face of the swell. We were having a bit of fun, so much so that we missed out checkpoint and wound up too far below the island to make it into the lake proper. So we came about and headed back upwind.
Those 18 inch rollers we had been surfing were now coming at us, throwing spray across the sideboards with each one we crested. Jack was constantly working the rudder and the mainsail to keep us righted. And it was fun for about the first three minutes. Then the realization of just how much work it was began to creep in like fog on a damp afternoon. It was about then that Jack mentioned that we could continue our course, make our tack and continue on to Alton. Or, we could head back in and call it a nice day of sailing. To which your trusty correspondent responded that were it mid-August instead of the end of September and were it sunny as opposed to overcast and were it warm as opposed to cold, I would favor continuing. But given that none of those options existed, I thought returning to the dock would be quite satisfactory. And so we did.
Jack maneuvered us downwind of the dock where we tack to a course that would bring us just upwind for a final run in. With that last tack and one last “cheat about”, we were headed in towards the dock; at ramming speed. It was about then that Jack commented he knew only one way to dock the boat; that was to bring it in close and then round up fully into the wind and stall it. However, what he described, what I envisioned and what we actually did had no relationship whatsoever. Picture two docks about 25 feet apart, running parallel into the bay. Then picture us approaching the upwind dock at ramming speed. I, full of both naiveté and confidence, asked what I should do. Jack said be ready to catch the dock. So I prepared myself to do so. At this point the realization came to Jack that running parallel and adjacent to the upwind dock was hindering our ability to turn into the wind, as Carol stood screaming on the dock, “slow down!” His second realization was that with our current course and speed, we were either going to ram the wharf or run aground; the only question being which would come first, as Carol stood on the dock screaming, “slow down!” So without a hint of warning, he threw us hard over into a downwind turn which brought us abruptly into and aside the downwind dock. While I was set to “catch the dock”, I wasn’t fully prepared for the one-eighty we just completed. And “catching the dock” became more of a euphemism for trying to minimize the impact we are about to take. The least of my worries was the boom which had been to my leeward but now was to windward. That was to change soon enough. While I had my hands on the dock pilings and my back to the boom, it began its normal progression from upwind to downwind. The only impediment to its travel would be the back of my head. Fortunately, the swing was minimal and I was low enough that it was only a glancing blow. With no real harm done, we secured the sails. Jack left to get the truck and trailer.
Returning with the trailer, Jack maneuvered it down the ramp and into the water. We tried to get the boat aligned with the trailer without having to get wet. After all, we launched that way, we should be able to trailer it also. But the stern kept drifting off. In an effort to control it, Jack climbed onto his truck on his way to step out on the trailer. At the next look, he was completing a slow reverse somersault/roll off the back of the truck into the water. It was at least an eight on a scale of ten. So much for trying to stay dry. We secured the boat onto the trailer, stowed the gear and then squished off to lunch. Well, Jack squished while Carol and I just walked.
At lunch, Jack stated that Cheryl is sometime reluctant to sail with him. Imagine that. All in all, it was a great day. I had a wonderful time and enjoyed every minute of the sailing. We both have good stories to tell and a great experience shared.
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