By morning, having weathered the
weather, my confidence has risen dramatically. The line of squalls eventually
passed us by completely, the clouds gave way to a constellation filled night
sky, and that, in turn, lightened and brightened into a golden sunrise.
By the time HS gets up the wind is
blowing a steady 15 knots right off the starboard beam, our most preferred wind
speed and direction of all, it looks like it will be a fantastic sailing day,
and dolphins are jumping and splashing beside the boat their exuberance
perfectly mirroring my mood. ‘More sails,’ HS says, ‘time to put the main up
again.’ I ask if I can do it, get told no, but persist, almost plead, point out
that it is a lovely gentle day, that this is the perfect time for me to learn,
that it will only take ten minutes. ‘Nick messed it up yesterday,’ HS points
out (leaving unspoken what we both know, that Nick is a far more experienced
sailor than me) ‘and it took forty,’ but I am so eager that HS can’t deny me a
chance to try. The foresail, which is at the very front of the boat, and the
mizzen, which is at the very back, can both be put up from the cockpit, their
lines are either there or led back, but to put up the main you have to leave
the cockpit walk along the narrow deck and up onto the top front part of the
boat, who’s name escapes me at the moment, and fuss with various lines there.
The lazy jacks have to be loosened without getting tangled in anything, which
requires finesse, and then the main halyard has to be hauled on, which requires
strength, and then winched, which requires more strength, and then the lazy
jacks have to be re-tightened, and then the main halyard has to be coiled
properly, and during all of this you, by which I mean whoever is doing it, is
very exposed up on the highest part of the boat a long way from the safety of
the cockpit, and, to make matters worse, while the main is being raised, the
boat is turned into the wind which makes it buck pretty much like a bronco,
and, bear in mind too, that the bucking makes it likely you will get covered
with spray, the deck beneath your feet will become slick with salt water, and,
since most of the jobs require two hands you will not be able to hold on to
anything while working and being tossed about. I get the main up flawlessly,
first try, set the sheet and preventer, perfectly, and just grin more broadly
when HS mocks my happiness.
When I am safely back in the cockpit
he goes below to get some more coffee but I stay out, sit in the sun, admire
the view (sea and sky and a few white clouds flying) and luxuriate in the
loveliness of it all. Eventually Nick wakes up and comes outside, fiddles a bit
with the set of the sails to try and get all the tell tails flying perfectly,
and life, I have to say, could hardly get any better. The wind is steady, the
waves are small but the swell is huge (there must be a storm somewhere not too
too far away), the blue sky is filled with gentle cumulus clouds, a flock of
sea birds is swooping and diving for fish, and three very happy sailors are on
board our boat. We are flying along at 6 knots now making good time and
anticipating several days in a row when it will be just like this. I even
convince HS to let me make a pot of chilli for supper. Yes, it is a good day!
