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Sailing Log: 5/17/03 & 5/18/03
All week long since launch, we had been stuck in one of those gray weather
patterns that seem to always outstay their welcome. Gray, drizzly,
foggy, and in the 40s. Yuck.
Saturday, though, dawned
bright and sunny--though still a bit on the chilly side. The
northeasterly winds of the week were supposed to shift to the southeast
during the day, which promised to provide good sailing winds. I
arrived at the boat at about 1030 to find absolutely no wind, so I fiddled
with some small projects while impatiently awaiting a breeze.
At almost exactly noon, the first ripplings of the wind arrived, and I set
the main and departed the mooring almost immediately. It was a
little difficult getting the boat to head in the right direction, since
she had been facing the opposite direction when the wind arrived, and, in
typical Triton fashion, stubbornly refused to swing head to wind. I
couldn't wait, so I managed to drop the mooring and get the boat facing in
a clear direction anyway.
The light wind steadily
increased to perhaps 12 knots--the perfect wind speed for a Triton.
Full sail, with the rail remaining dry. I was dressed in shorts and
a T-shirt--much like UPS drivers, the onset of the sailing season pretty
much means that I will be in shorts and bare feet for the duration,
whether or not the weather is really conducive--and found the southeast
sea breeze to be a mite chilly. Not too bad, though. I was (gasp!)
forced to put on a flannel shirt, though.
I had a great sail around
the bay, enjoying several different points of sail, before heading back to
the mooring after about 3 hours. I forgot my camera, so there are no
pictures from the day. There were very few boats out and about, so
that made the day even more enjoyable. Heather and Nathan on Dasein
sailed by on the way in from their own sail, and we all commented that the
day was nearly perfect, but that another 10 or 15 degrees of warmth might
be nice. Our wishes were to be granted for Sunday, as it turned out.
Sunday felt like a summer
day right from the getgo--you know how those summer days feel when you get
up, even early in the morning? This was one of them. Bright
sun, dark blue sky, and even though the day started off cool, there was
that feeling in the air that it was going to be warm. You can just
tell.
Since there was no wind
yet, I didn't rush down to the boat, but by 1000 I had had all I could
stand and just had to go. When I arrived at the boat, I could see
some faint wind lines far out in the distance, so even though it was flat
calm at the mooring I knew the wind would be there soon, so I prepared the
boat, and after only a few minutes there was enough wind to set
sail.
 I
enjoy light air sailing. I find the notion of getting a boat
moving--and then keeping her moving--despite the light breezes to be an
excellent challenge. Sure, heavy wind brings its own challenges, but
it's the light stuff that stops most people in their tracks. I seek
it out and coddle it. Light wind is my friend, and I enjoy coaxing
the tenths of a knot of speed out of the boat--all the more so in a
heavier boat like a Triton.
The breeze began as barely
enough to ripple the water, but I had Glissando ghosting along at
more than a knot. Tacking required slow movements, and a very gentle
turn to maintain the speed as much as possible. Momentum is king in
the light stuff. Soon, though, the wind began building a bit, and
was soon up at around 8 knots or so--a pleasant light wind. As usual
with the prevailing wind direction in the bay, the shore of Clapboard
Island was favored, and by tacking up as close to the southerly ledges as  possible,
I gained good ground to windward. I love sailing closehauled when
the wind is still light enough that you're not beating your head into the
ground. After about 18 knots, when the waves get bigger and the boat
slams into them, spraying everything with cold water, it tends to lose
some of its appeal in anything but short, exhilarating burst. But in
8 or 12 knot winds, it's a true pleasure. Beating is the most
technical aspect of sailing, and it's fun to play around.
 After
a fun beat past the southern end of the island and up to the far side of
Hussey Sound, I eased the sails and started a reach back to the
north. I thought I saw Dasein back in the general direction I had
come from, so I gybed and reached back that way. But as I got
nearer, I realized I had been mistaken, so I headed up again and basically
repeated my earlier course towards the Hussey for a while before cracking off once again and heading towards Basket Island.
 My lovely reach was only
interrupted as one of the ugliest boats ever passed by. If there are
uglier boats than this, I don't want to know. I just feel compelled
to share the ugliness with all of you. Why should I be the only one
to enjoy such a feast for the eyes?
I thought it would be fun
to see if Dasein was out and about, so I circled in towards the
anchorage to see. As I approached, they were just getting underway
in the very light winds inside the island. However, I seemed to
bring some of the wind with me as I sailed in, and soon the breeze filled
in once again. We traded tacks for several minutes, and I managed to
snap a number of pictures of Dasein, some of which were pretty
good.
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