A Blustery Jaunt Under Sail

Enough politics,  it's a losing pastime.  This week it's back to sailing,  yay !

I've set a little goal of sailing and riding once every week.  Yeh I know,  it's only like week 2 out 52, but so fast so good. Unfortunately,  I was only left with one day to sail.  I say that because that day was blustery as buggery. I learned some lessons with Lurgy last week,  one of them was to not launch from a lee shore.  It's no great drama, the boat can be repaired,  it's just that it takes time to carry out repairs. Time I now don't have,  given i need to take two days our for adventure.  

So,  I headed for a little ramp facing west,  and sheltered from the blowy easterlies. The launch was so peaceful and calm, different from last week.  To get offshore I held the boom to windward and backed her out, once beam on,  unfurled the headsail, dropped the board and sailed off. 

Right from the get-go I needed to lid the main to reduce heel. I stood to windward and st times leaned on the windward gunnel, but on a few occasions this wasn't enough. So rounding up was done in order to steady the ship.  When this was barely enough,  we'd round up to stall and than wad we bore away the sails would refill and cause havoc.  So west of Scamander Point, before entering a channel open to the east, we turned about.  

Entering a narrow passage in the lee of Cow Island, the wind abandoned us. But sailing among moored craft was a bit of fun and a chance to catch a breath.  

Exiting the passage saw us  back into full wind's strength.  Foolishly,  in hindsight,  I rounder up as we hit the starboard buoy, and bang over on our ear we went.  The main released,  with just the jib working, we had water flushing the leeward decks.  I rounded up the roller and leaned forward over the windward rail . Thankfully,  she went no further.  To release the headsail,  I would have to go to leeward and risk certain capsize.  So these basic techniques were all I had to hand until the wind eased or we rounded up a little.  Of course this eventually happened and at the threat of further scary sailing I furled the jib and sailed on the lugging main alone.  Praise the Lord,  the Old fellow that built this boat knew his beans. Lurgy  had the good manners to sail under headsail alone.  Even with the sail lugging,  this stout little dinghy made headway,  as steady as time itself.  And we had plenty of time,  our home port just ax littlr over a kilometres dead upwind.  Standing against the windward rail, mainsheet in hand,  a light hand on the tiller we danced a danced a tarantella skirting the le shore,  the eastern side of Chow Island. Well,  at leeway mny adrenal glands were getting a workout.  No other craft we out under sail, in fact there were few craft about at all. But it's brave little green boat strode purposefully into the lee of Tylers Beach once more.  The mast stood more erect,  the main took on its natural curve and we slimed across the now calm waters.  The crunching of the bow against the sand pulled us up. Three gongoozleers offered help as we left shore,  a child offered me a fish on our return. Of course being in tune with the vibrations of the day,  I h should have accepted that limp mullet and dined on ots flesh as a thank you to the sea gods. But I didn't because I am a fool. I buried myself into negative thoughts,  beating myself up for not running reefing lines,  for handling errors that placed use in peril .  But,  yet again Lucky Lurgy looked after me,  she taught me things and showed me glimpses of her abilities. Our third sail,  and I am learning on a step upward curve.  

Ashore again,  wiser again.