Give her the ol’ UV treatment

It has been a very long time since we last saw our spinnaker. It has been years, at least two…maybe three. Enough years that neither Jeff nor I really remember the last time. The very first time we let her fly was an unforgettable experience, the type of experience that can leave a psychological scar for beginners and compel them to leave their spinnaker hidden away in the quarter berth for years on end.

It happened something like this. Ten days cruising around North Puget Sound and the San Juan Islands in all different flavors of wind (including no wind) had bolstered our confidence as sailors. We were on the last stretch from Port Ludlow to Seattle and the winds were mild and right at our back. Jeff had read all about spinnakers online, how to deploy and retrieve them. Online videos aided him as he mentally paced through the steps for how we would fly one on our boat. I had never touched a spinnaker, let alone controlled the helm under the immense power of one.

After several attempts to figure out which side was up and to affix the spinnaker pole in the right place, we were flying, exceeding our hull speed by at least one knot (possibly more). We were both mighty pleased with ourselves and proceeded to pose before the sail, big smiles, flashing peace signs (not really knowing what we were getting ourselves into). Our spinnaker is stunning. The large red sail marked by black stripes and diamonds looked ready to consume our small red boat, like we were sailing right into a wide open mouth.

Isn’t she pretty?

From the helm I could feel every little puff of air as it tugged us to port or to starboard. Maintaining a course straight down wind took more focus and strength than I anticipated. The wind gradually crept up past 10 knots and the seas started to get choppy. Furthermore, we were nearing the pathway of two intersecting ferry routes and a cruise ship was bearing down on us at an incredible speed. We had had our fun, now we were anxious to take her down.

This was particularly challenging for us because a) we have a small boat with a fin keel that can get yanked around fairly easily, b) our spinnaker is HUGE and very much capable of yanking us around, and c) we don’t have a sock for quickly dowsing our spinnaker. We maneuvered the boat to put the spinnaker into the shadow of the main, a trick that Jeff had picked up online. We hoped that this would enable Jeff to wrangle the ends, gather the bottom of the sail in his arms and pull it down.

As I was getting us into position and Jeff was scrambling to the front of the boat preparing to pull the spinnaker down, the sail deflated and within moments it popped open, filled with a fresh breeze and sent us sideways. Our lifelines slapped against the water. I plummeted to the cockpit floor with the tiller above my head. Somehow I righted us while keeping the spinnaker in the shadow of the main. I was in a state of shock and fear that Jeff might have gone overboard.

The sense of relief when I saw Jeff crawl back to the cockpit was overwhelming. The sight of him brought tears to my eyes. I was still on the floor with the tiller above my head trying to process what had happened. Somehow Jeff had managed to hold on to the boat while it threatened to shake him into the unforgiving Puget Sound water.

Any time we took our spinnaker out of hiding on 5 knot days the wind would inevitably threaten to pick up. Clouds would appear on the horizon with a wind line swiftly approaching. We would look at the sail, beautiful plumage, look at each other and put it back in the quarter berth. Another day perhaps.

We had the pleasure of crewing aboard SV Scout last weekend for the monthly Veleros de La Paz race. It was our first race and the first time in a long time that we had been aboard a boat other than our own. On two of the three tacks we flew the spinnaker. We got to see first hand how another sailor rigs and controls it. It turns out the books are right…you can learn a lot from a) sailing on other boats and b) racing.

I tell you all of this because we unearthed our spinnaker from the quarterberth yesterday en route to Isla Espiritu Santo from La Paz. We wanted to sail as much as possible and the wind had mellowed enough that we couldn’t keep our jib full. It has been so long that neither one of us could remember which side was up. After much pondering and measured discussion, we hoisted the spinnaker and let her fill with air. What a beauty. Sewn with care. As we gazed up at her we both noticed mildew on several panels. Eventually the wind couldn’t even keep the spin full, but we let her have her time in the sun. A shot across the bow to the mildew that is encroaching.

We look forward to more sailing with the spinnaker, if the conditions are right. She won’t be tucked away in the quarterberth for long. Jeff is already plotting her return.