How do you work this thing, wha?

Boating Adventure #5

August 6th, 2011

Before I begin, let me first explain the hats.

100 degree August weather with UV index of 10, and heat index of 115 dictates that fashion is merely secondary to comfort. I have come to terms with this.

Within 6 hours we drank 1 gallon and a half a piece, accidentally broke the autobailer, and almost lost the boat.

We learned a lot in those 6 hours and the degradation of our appearance, slowly, through photographic time, is the true testament to that fact.

Now for our first sailing raw footage!

This takes place on the Eastern most side of the lake where we caught some serious wind and were booking it for forever. This was before we realized why other boats don't go near the dead-wind dam side. It was a fun ride to the dam, but a slow going back.

I get tangled in my hat and sunglasses midway through Matt's recording. Pretty awesome.

Matt also wanted me to tell the story of how we almost lost the boat.

It was an hour into sailing and we were on the West end of the lake, just picked up speed on a port tack, getting very comfortable. A little too comfortable. That was when Matt decided to go to the bow of the boat to dip his feet in the water.

This isn't an unusual occurrence, this feet dip technique. It's done whenever the impulse arises, and always up at the top of the bow. As we are meandering near an island, a significant and angry gust of wind pulls the boat at an alarming rate. It was like going near the island, there was some sort of vacuum created by the wind splitting over it (my Captain Kirk theory).

It happened so fast, one minute we were upright and the next the boat is at a 65 degree angle to the water, starboard side first. We were flipping, or as we say in the south, tumping over.

Quick like a cat Matt fell on the port side, readying to right the boat should the sails go down and the centerboard come out of the water. I let go of the rudder, remembering that "when in doubt let it out", but I forgot that when in shock the rudder isn't the only thing that needs to be let out.

Meanwhile Matt is yelling at me to loosen the sail as the mainsheet is cleated ever so tightly at my feet. I pick up my jaw and furiously tug at it, as water is seeping, no, pouring into the cockpit. As soon as the sail is loose, the sailboat is upright as if it never happened. Only there's about a foot of water in the cockpit and a shaking girl and a drenched and smug boy.

But we made it.