The triumph of the do-it-yourselfer

Issue 72 : May/Jun 2010
The thing that separates the hard-core do-it-yourselfer from other sailors is just this: no fear. We were replacing a vinyl window in our 170 genoa when that bit of blinding insight came to me.
This 170 came with our boat when it was delivered to her first owner in 1976. That first owner didn’t hang on to her long. He may have flown this sail a few times. But the second owner never did. So when we bought Mystic from him in 1992, he gave us a pristine original sail that had hung many years in his garage.
Since that time, however, we’ve just about used up that monster genoa. It has been Mystic’s only light-air sail. And we see plenty of light air in the summer on Lake Superior. Basically, this 170 has served as our ersatz spinnaker. Jerry’s even run some — let’s just call them odd — experiments by flying it poled out and free (as in not hanking on a hanked-on jib). I think he’s even tried it sideways. The sky’s the limit for the great innovator when we’re not going anywhere fast and he’s feeling creative.
So, after nearly 20 years of such abuse from Mystic’s third set of owners, the vinyl telltale window of our now very tired 170 cracked and split. It was confusing at first. From the cockpit we couldn’t see the crack in the clear vinyl. But how else to explain the fact that both telltales were suddenly streaming on one side?
Easier to justify
The no-fear concept comes in when one contemplates cutting a hole in a sail or a boat . . . whether one is making a simple repair or contemplating a major change. It is somehow easier to justify if you’re facing a good old sail, a good old bulkhead, or a good old hull.
Would we have undertaken the job on a brand-new sail of high-tech fibers and worth more than Mystic’s resale value? Maybe not. At least not without dread and misgivings. Would Jerry have undertaken that little experiment in which he added a reef to the old 150 jib? Nope. He could justify that “learning opportunity” only because the sail was already mostly shot. His modification turned out very well. But you never know.
We hear from readers who get out their Sawzalls and other brutish tools and — with no fear — modify their boats in ways that no sane owner of a brand-new yacht would ever consider. With these acts of bravery, they have gained valuable skills and moved on to attempt even more astonishing feats which probably would have been impossible for them in the past.
We have reached that point also. Throughout nearly 20 years of sailing, I have maintained that I would never . . . ever . . . build a sail. Our lives depend on these complicated and specialized pieces of cloth. I’d build canvas projects, to be sure. But no sails. Never!
But we keep repairing, modifying, and messing about with our sails and we’ve been pleased with the results so far. We have learned some things. And somewhere along the way we lost our fear. So I have slipped over the precipice. We ordered a spinnaker kit from Sailrite and, during the break between Christmas and New Year’s, we set to work building our very first sail.
Moreover, I have to admit I looked forward to its arrival and enjoyed the project from start to finish. No fear.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com












