A sailboat sailing? . . . What’s the problem?
Issue 80 : Sept/Oct 2011
Our sanity has been questioned on more than one occasion. If you pack three sons and two parents on a 34-foot boat and sail away, people are bound to shake their heads. After eight years, we have come to accept that. What continues to surprise us, though, is when it is the sailing of our sailboat that raises eyebrows, even among sailors.
We have a usually functioning 7-year-old motor in our Creekmore with a shameful 500 hours on it. We also have new standing rigging, good running rigging, and nine sails. It shouldn’t be surprising then, that the vast majority of the 20,000 miles we have traveled in Eurisko have been under sail. The reaction we get sometimes when we are sailing, however, says otherwise.
We were in Chaguaramas, Trinidad, one November, preparing for a passage to St. Croix. As he frequently does when viewing tight anchorages, twisty channels, and other challenging situations, Dave asked, “Think we can sail out? I want to sail through Boca de Monos.”
“Why?”
“To see if we can.”
We spent the next 45 minutes on deck, watching other boats lay to the wind in a gust, then fall off to the current in a lull. This was not going to be easy. When we were confident of our plan, we raised sail and dropped the mooring. Maybe we looked uncoordinated, maybe we were closer to some hazards than we thought, or maybe the sight of someone sailing out of the harbor really is that unusual. For whatever reason, a French cruiser jumped in his dinghy and hurried to our rescue.
“S’OK?”
“Yup, it’s OK.”
“You no need help?”
“No, but thank you.” I guess.
We sailed out of the harbor (albeit slowly), through Boca de Monos (I believe it took 16 tacks; Dave swears it was fewer), around the east end of St. Croix four days later, through the channel, and into Christiansted Harbor to log a successful 450-mile sail. Should that make someone wonder if we are OK?
Years later, we returned to the Chesapeake for a few months and were immediately reminded of the lack of wind there. We coasted as much as we sailed that summer, honing our light-wind sailing skills, which included judging how far 20,000 pounds will carry to windward in a channel too narrow for tacking. This time it was an American cruiser who shouted as he motored by, “Looks like you’re not having a very good day.”
“We are having an excellent day, just sailing,” we answered. “But you’re on the wrong side of that green.”
As he motored aground outside the clearly marked channel, the wind shifted, our sails filled, and we sailed into the bay. (And people wonder if we are OK.)
We spent a year in Bocas del Toro, Panama, enjoying the consistent breeze and lack of seas. The first three months we were there, we went for 21 daysails, for a total of 220 miles, without ever starting the motor. While sailing through a crowded anchorage for the fourth time one afternoon, looking for a good spot to drop the anchor, we were greeted by a German sailor in his dinghy, “Are you OK?”
While we appreciate the concern of our fellow cruisers, it saddens me to realize that because so few of them sail, they assume we require assistance when we do.
Then one day it happened. We were buddy boating with a delivery crew of Californian sailors through the Colombian islands to Isla Mujeres, Mexico. After our last sail together, we were all relaxing on deck when one of their crew said, “We were raising anchors and sails. Things were flying and flapping and going to hell. We were all running around yelling and swearing and I looked over at you guys. You were leisurely pulling on halyards and sheets and rodes. Your cats were all sprawled out in the sun. And poof, you were off, sailing away. And I thought, ‘I want to be on their boat!’”
I smiled and replied, “Well, we’ve done this once or twice before.” If that makes people wonder if we’re OK, I’m OK with that.
Connie McBride , her husband, Dave, and their three sons set off on Eurisko, their 34-foot Creekmore cutter, in 2002 and have since spent most of their time cruising the Caribbean. Connie’s book, Simply Sailing: A Different Approach to a Life of Adventure, is available through Amazon.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
