Dumb Moment #1 came when I made the crazy decision to go sailing anyways, when the forecast called for 25-35 mph winds, and when we got to the lake, there were whitecaps everywhere. I have never seen whitecaps on this lake ever in the three years I have been sailing (drifting) on it.

As there were only three of us, I decided to rig up one of our 420's and a Laser. Dumb Moment #2.

Dumb Moment #3 came when I decided that the two novices should take the 420 while I take the Laser. (I am the lightest of all three at 130 lbs).

We get 420 rigged, wrestle it down the ramp, which is little more than two 2x4's a foot apart, covered with thin carpet that go from the seawall to the dock and into the water. Here is where we had our first omen of events to come: a sudden gust nearly blows the boat off the ramp and almost knocks one of the rookies into the water. We get the boat in and tie it to the dock.

Here follows Dumb Moment #4: I went into the boathouse to change into my sailing gear, leaving the new kids to finish rigging the boat.... unsupervised. I had just finished taking off my shoes and unzipping my jeans when I hear Novice #1 yelling over the howling of the wind. I peer out through the door. Novice #1 is on the dock, jumping up and down like a chimp on crack and pointing at the water, where I notice the 420 is on its side, masthead in the water and quickly submerging. Novice #2 is nowhere to be seen. I run out to the dock, no shoes, and pants falling down, just as Novice #2 emerges from the tangled mess of not-yet-hoisted sail in the water. Judging from the look of pure shock on her face and her panicked hyperventilating, I surmise that the water temperature was somewhere between "WOOOOO!" and "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" In a matter of seconds, we plucked her out. She at least had enough foresight to wear wool, which may not be the fastest drying material, but will keep you warm even when wet.

"Do you guys still want to go sailing?" I ask. "YES!" comes the reply. Dumb Moment #5: I let them go sailing. We finish getting the boat rigged, and after some squabbling between the Novices over which one of them would be forced to skipper, they are off. While they finished rigging with my help, I gave them a few pointers on how to sail in heavy wind. I showed them how to use the hiking straps, how to prevent a capsize in a puff, what to do if they capsize, how to keep the boat going in the direction you want, etc. After they both got settled in their positions in the boat, I uncleated the painter and cast them off.

I watched them sail for a few minutes. They were doing quite well. They kept boat upright if not flat, they hiked out and eased the sheets in a puff, and seemed to be doing quite well for not having much dinghy experience. I relaxed a little and began trying to rig the Laser, which was proving damn near impossible with all the sudden puffs and gusts. All the while I glanced up every few minutes to check how the 420 was doing. Several times, I almost shit my pants.

The first time was when I saw the 420 going dead downind, with the current and just hauling ass...straight at the dam. Ohhhhh, fuck, I forgot to teach them how to gybe! But before my sphincter let go, I watched as they executed a near perfect gybe. Well, perfect for them...no heads got knocked overboard and the boat stayed upright, and they began reaching back towards shore. Phew!

The second time was as they began approaching the shore and needed to tack upwind and upstream to get back to the dock. SHIT! Do they know how to keep the boat out of irons? And how to get out of irons? Again, my undergarments were spared the mess as I watched them tack along the shore, first on port, then on starboard, then back to port as they got back inshore again. Wow! They're better than they think they are.

The third time I almost shit a brick happened after a long port tack out to the middle of the lake, about even with the dock. The boat ended up on its side in the middle of the lake. But they stayed cool headed, climbed over the gunwale, and got her back on her feet. Amazing! Then they began reaching on a course for the far shore. I had started to de-rig the Laser, deciding that it was not worth the effort and risk. I was coiling the mainsheet when I happened to look up again, and not seeing the boat where I thought it was headed, I jumped up and ran to the end of the dock. The boat had reached the far shore, but was about 50 yards downstream of where it was aiming, on its side, with Novice #2 in the water again and Novice #1 standing on the centerboard, arms flailing.

Here is where I had Dumb Moment #6. We have a 14' aluminum john boat that we use as a safety boat. We keep two tanks of gas and three outboards in the boathouse, none of which are working. So I get the john boat in the water, and look around for a suitable means of getting a 14' john boat across a 1/4 mile of windswept water blowing the same direction as a swift current towards a dam with the floodgates open. What did I grab? Oars. I thought I was going to row over there and row back with two people and a swamped boat in tow. After about 10 minutes at the oars I had succeeded in getting 30 feet out into the lake and 100 yards downstream. This was not going to work. I made for the nearest shore, a steep bank with low trees, rocks and other fun, sharp pointy things covering it. I managed to tie off the boat, climb the bank and scan the opposite shore for signs of survival. I noticed they had not only righted the boat, but dropped the sails and appeared to have tied it to a dock belonging to a lakeside cottage. But the Novices were nowhere to be seen. I had assumed (correctly it turns out) that since they managed to tie off the boat, that they must have gone ashore and were safe. But there's still that nagging "WHAT IF..." that dominates your thoughts. WHAT IF the water there was deeper than they thought and they got swept off towards the dam? I set off running around the lake towards the cottage, totally nerve-wracked. I was picked up about half way by the residents of the cottage who saw me take off running, and went out to pick me up.

Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is better than hearing good news after fearing the worst. My friends were safe and sound at the cottage, with dry clothes and blankets and hot chocolate. Novice #2 ended up with frostbitten toes, and both had a few cuts on their hands and faces.

EPILOGUE:
After many thanks for their help and hospitality, Novice #1 and I sailed the boat back across the lake (the only sailing I got to do all day, but DAMN it was fast and fun!). The cottage-owners drove Novice #2 back to the boathouse to meet us there. We managed to get all the boats put away, (we used Novice #2's car to drag the john boat up the bank and got questioned by the Conservation Officers in the process )

And as if to add insult to injury, Novice #2 dropped her keys in the water while helping to haul out the 420. By sheer dumb luck, she dropped them in just the right place. Where they landed was only about 4 feet deep, but had she dropped them a mere foot to the right, and they would have gone over the drop-off into about 13 feet.

The whole day was one fuck up after another, but thankfully, we all made it through, and only lost a batten and put a small tear in the mainsail.

Dumb Moment #7: WE'RE GOIN' BACK OUT TOMORROW!

Thanks to anarchist bleedsailing. The story and thread are here.

10/30/06