Did I mention I don’t know much about sailing? I’m living proof one can build things which they cannot operate. (Though I’m improving.) This wasn’t obvious at first but now I understand it deeply. Building a boat (even a small one) is one set of skills but operating a boat (especially a small one) is a totally different set of skills. The two are utterly unrelated! I barely managed the former and I’m still working on the latter.
But that’s why I was there. Nature would provide. I’d just signed up for an advanced self-taught pass/fail course in sailing tiny things.
The winds were awful. They’d appear out of nowhere and shit would get crazy. In a flurry of incompetence I’d pull lines and shift weight and fiddle with the rudder. I’d finally get boat, rudder, and sail all configured at whatever angle was right. Once that happened I had lightning in my hands. The tiny boat would surge with far more power than a sheet of fabric ought to harness. It would zip over the water like a skipping stone while I mumbled obscenities and clung to the tiny hull. Well before the boat was on its ragged edge, I’d be on mine. I’d let off the sheet to reduce power and that’s when things got fun. I could settle in, grin like an idiot, and wonder what would happen if and when I hit the opposite side of the lake.
Then, the wind would die. I’d sit there like a crouton in soup… wondering what it all meant. Until it appeared again without warning from a random direction.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
My start had seemed competent. I’d rigged and untrailered (if that’s a word) my boat like a boss. Things went downhill after that fine start. I’d launched into a dead calm and faffed about like a moron; tracing hopeless circles until I got taken by surprise by a sudden gust and wound up charging across the water like a human avalanche.
Power is a relative thing. I don’t need much. I don’t want much. My boat is tiny, it needs but a hint of an idea of a breeze to make it move purposefully. That’s exactly what I wanted in a boat. It will sail on the blown kiss of a faerie; perfect.
Unfortunately, the boat’s a bit aggressive. In my eyes, it punches above its weight class. It sticks a large (relatively) sail into the sky as if the entire planet’s atmosphere is its plaything. This may very well be true for the boat, but not so for it’s sailor. The boat can and will do shit that scares the hell out of me.
Well into that first run, I did the sailor’s version of “cry uncle”. I gave plenty of slack to the mainsheet (that’s the line (rope) you hold to keep the sail’s boom where you want it). The boat’s fully capable of riding the surf like a flea on a charging bull. I’m not leveled up for that and I don’t like the premise of the game.
In theory the slack puts the sail in a less advantageous angle to the wind… wasting energy as wind slips past, or in my case giving me a change to catch my bearings because there’s less energy pushing the boat toward its (my) limits. It helped but wasn’t a full solution. The sail took up that slack, billowed just fine in its new suboptimal but still mighty position, and kept on truckin’. I, the dipshit clinging to the boat beneath the sail, was nowhere near the kind of control I’d like.
The boat was still surging ahead but at least I had some confidence in it. I was fairly convinced it wasn’t near it’s capsize point. (Honestly, the boat is stable as an aquatic brick shithouse. It can capsize, as can any craft, but it would take a whole lot of stupid to get it that far. Well before that point I’m squealing like a scared rabbit and trying desperately to get to shore.)
Under the new conditions I had a lot better control. In fact, the rudder, which was ineffective only a few seconds ago, gave me precise control. It’s the first rudder I’ve ever made and it took some learning to make a nice wing shape. I’m rather pleased with how well it came out. Even if it’s not perfect, it’s awesome for its intended use. I pointed in a direction and the boat was happy to comply. I pointed to an angle that gave plenty of lake to think about my fate.
“Curmudgeon you crazy bastard,” I thought in third person. “learn to sail. NOW!”
And so I did.
That how I learned. Trial and error, and some swimming!