Going Nowhere Fast

The above title pretty much sums up the essence of sailing when you only have a few hours with the intent to end up where you started the same day. While this might not seem all that exciting to a cruising sailor with faraway destinations in mind, I would like to make the case that this seemingly aimless activity is extremely enjoyable. All it takes is a little motivation.

The author can remove the cockpit cover and launch his 16-foot trimaran in five minutes.

My love for daysailing started the day after I started a three-day cruise with a nine-hour sail on a 20-foot pocket cruiser with 90-degree temperatures, a wife whose idea of “roughing it” is a black and white TV, two small boys, (four and seven years old), a night-long battle with mosquitoes, and a forecast for high winds and strong thunderstorms the next day. The mutiny was of epic proportion, and I was leading the way off the boat!

Once I changed my expectations, I soon learned that while you can daysail in a boat of any size, the ease of doing it in a small boat becomes more attractive when time is of the essence. Sailing with my friend on his 28-foot sloop that he keeps on a mooring, we first have to launch a dinghy.

After rowing from shore and transferring our gear, we have to uncover the mainsail, bend on the jib, and untie the tiller. We stow our gear, bring out the cockpit cushions, and start up the engine. After securing the tender to the mooring, we have to motor several hundred yards to deeper water where we then raise the main and jib and begin our sail.

All the above tasks, while not impossible to perform alone, are far easier with one or more crew members to help. In stark contrast, I can remove the cockpit cover and launch my 16-foot Windrider trimaran with all the gear already aboard in less than five minutes time. I simply paddle a few feet to clear the dock and unfurl the main sail from the mast.

The old adage that the simpler something is to do, the more likely you are to do it certainly applies to sailing. Thinking about what food and beverage I want for the day is usually the largest part of the planning I do prior to going out on the water. Since I don’t have a motor on my boat, I usually allow the wind and tide directions to dictate my destination.

One of my favorite activities is unofficially racing with other sailboats that I encounter. I always try and catch the boats ahead of me or stay ahead of those that are behind me. I will always investigate unusual vessels such as the Pride of Baltimore, Lady Maryland, Sultana, and Amistad as they have journeyed up or down the Bay. It is fun to contrast those magnificent vessels with all their sails and rigging to my simple trimaran. When conditions allow me to get close enough, I’ll try and find out the crew’s destination.

Just last month I sailed briefly with an Annapolis 44 that was traveling up the Bay under spinnaker. I was able to find out that they were headed to the start of the Newport to Bermuda Race. I bid them good luck and enjoyed the puzzled looks of the midshipmen as they swiftly left me behind. In the late spring and early fall countless “snowbirds” pass by. Unfortunately, most of them have their sails furled even when the conditions would allow sailing a direct course north or south without tacking. I also like to see the luxurious motor yachts that are often more than 100 feet long.

No matter how rough the conditions I am sailing in, their captains never fail to slow down when they approach. I usually feel guilty that I have unnecessarily slowed their progress, but I’ve not yet figured out a signal that lets them understand that their wakes are not a problem.

After three or four hours, the pain in my tailbone signals to my brain that I’ve been out long enough. In the evening if I’m watching a late-day thunderstorm in relative safety, or eating a nice dinner and watching television in my mosquito-free, air-conditioned surroundings, I often think of that memorable nine-hour cruise and how it changed the way I sail.

When I jump into my king-size bed at night, I never forget to thank God that I am a day sailor!

About the Author: As of August 12, Dave Nestel had logged 71 sailing days on his own boat and 37 other trips on other people’s boats and his Whaler, which makes him an official SpinSheet Centurian. He aims to log 100 days on his own trimaran before the year’s end.