Well, we have made the very difficult decision to sell Obsession. If you have been following this blog, you know we have been the proud owners of Obsession for over three years now. She has been a wonderful boat to us, has been incredibly fun to sail, and has taught us a tremendous amount about owning a boat. We have made several upgrades to the boat, and its trailer, and have documented many of them in this blog. So why are we selling?
In short, we want a larger boat. We are looking at several boats in the 36-38 foot range and hope to find our new boat soon. Although we will continue to cruise around Prince Edward Island and the Northumberland Strait, we are also looking to do some cruising further afield - Newfoundland, southern Nova Scotia, the eastern seaboard and south to the Carribean. Since we want to be able to live and work aboard for months at a time, we would like a few more feet of living space than our 30 foot Obsession is able to provide. Although it has been perfectly comfortable for 3 weeks at a time, I think for 3 months at a time, we need a bit more space. So with heavy hearts, we have listed the boat for sale. For information check out the listing for our Beneteau First 305.
Stay tuned as we hunt for our new boat...
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
A close call with the boom
The snow may be falling and the wind howling as PEI is hit with yet another winter storm, but I am clinging to the knowledge it is now March and one month closer to when Obsession will be launched for another sailing season. This season no one will have to remind me to rig a preventer when we are on a downwind run. Getting hit with an accidental gybe tends to remind one of the dangers.
I am always worrying about someone being hit by the boom. The boom is rather low on Obsession, and if one is standing forward of the wheel there is a real danger of being hit by the boom as we tack or gybe. When we have guests aboard, I harp on being careful of the boom so much I sound like a broken record. So, it was a bit ironic last summer that I was the one who was nailed by an accidental gybe. It happened during our trip to the Bras D'Or Lakes.
The Bras D'Or Lakes in Cape Breton have quickly become a favourite cruising destination for us in the summer as the area offers beautiful, secluded anchorages and good sailing. Last summer we spent two weeks in the Lakes. Midway through our trip we pulled into Baddeck to pick up some supplies. With the forecast for the following day calling for 30 to 50 knots of wind gusts in the channels and heavy rain, we stayed put for an extra day. We spent our bonus day in Baddeck watching movies, working on our laptops, chatting with other cruisers, doing laundry between downpours of rain, and exploring the shopping and restaurants of downtown Baddeck.
The following day the wind had died down and the sun was struggling to break through the clouds. A quick check of the weather forecast and the radar showed a chance of showers, but winds in the more reasonable 15-20 knot range. We left Baddeck headed for Orangedale. There was a good breeze, about 10-12 knots, and a mix of sun and cloud overhead.
We headed for the bridge at Iona, under full sail and on a broad reach. Sailing along at a good clip, we were enjoying the sail and making plans for our anchorage that later that afternoon in Orangedale. However, we were keeping a close eye on the clouds and weather as rain had been forecast and we were concerned that wind might accompany a rain shower. The deep narrow channels can sometimes do a good job of funnelling the wind in strong gusts and we wanted to be prepared.
As we made our way towards Iona, the wind did start to pick up and we could see a squall line approaching up the channel behind us. We reduced sail by furling in the jib and I stayed on the helm while Jay went below to make an early lunch. The weather quickly cooled as the squall approached. The sky darkened and I pushed my sunglasses up on my forehead to better see. A few drops of rain started splattered the cockpit and I quickly thrust the cockpit cushions down the companionway to keep them dry.
The wind shifted slightly and we were now edging even further into a downwind run. I adjusted the mainsheet accordingly. The sun was now completely hidden and the wind and light rain had a sudden chill. The sun had been keeping me warm and now with its disappearance I wanted my rain jacket. I asked Jay to pass my gear up from below. Here is where I made my mistake. I took my eye off the approaching squall line and moved forward of the wheel to take my jacket and pants from Jay. I quickly shrugged in to the jacket, reaching out to steady the wheel. Although we don't have autopilot aboard Obsession, when the sails are set, we can leave the wheel for a moment or two without any consequences. But not when a squall is approaching. I did not take into account that the wind might hit a bit before the wall of rain that was quickly approaching us from the stern.
I then did something that may well have saved my life. I grabbed my foul weather pants and sat down at the companionway to pull them on, facing the stern of the boat. I took my attention off the wheel for a split second. I started to bend forward to pull on my pant leg and was slammed backwards and sideways against the bulkhead in the cockpit, knocking the wind out of me. Just as I had taken my attention from the wheel, the approaching edge of the squall hit the boat and the resulting wind shift had gybed the mainsail. With no preventer in place the boom had gone flying across with incredible force, narrowly missing my head. The traveller is located at the front edge of the companionway and as the boom moved across, the line was pulled out of the traveller cleats and the mainsheet had come flying across the width of the boat. The mainsheet had slammed against my chest, pinning me and momentarily robbing me of both my breath and my ability to speak. BY sitting down at the exact second I did, I narrowly missed being hit in the head.
The crash of the boom had Jay flying up the companionway steps to see what had happened. As I lay slumped against the side of the cockpit he was certain I had been nailed in the head. I couldn't find the breath to answer and the pressure of the sheet was keeping me pinned in place. As my breath came back to me and I gasped out that I was ok, he helped me wiggle out from under the sheet. After reassuring himself that I was ok, and I didn't need any help, Jay retreated below. I went back to the wheel, taking control of Obsession once again, as the skies opened and the rain came down with a vengeance. I clung to the wheel, slightly bruised, but largely unhurt. I shivered with delayed reaction thinking about how different things may have been if I had not sat down when I did. I could have been seriously injured, if not killed, if the boom had hit me in the head.
Within 30 minutes the squall had passed, the sun was struggling to come back out, we were increasing sail as the wind returned to normal, and eating lunch. After we anchored in a cove near Orangedale later that day, we relaxed in the cockpit discussing what we did right and what we should have done differently. We were right to reduce sail as we did and to keep an eye on the weather. I should have called Jay to take the wheel while I put on my foul weather gear, and not taken my attention from the helm when the weather was so unsettled. It also reminded us of the value rigging a preventer in preventing an accidental gybe. And most importantly it reminded me not to let my guard down. I am hyper vigilant about the boom when others are aboard, but I had forgotten about the danger to myself.
I am always worrying about someone being hit by the boom. The boom is rather low on Obsession, and if one is standing forward of the wheel there is a real danger of being hit by the boom as we tack or gybe. When we have guests aboard, I harp on being careful of the boom so much I sound like a broken record. So, it was a bit ironic last summer that I was the one who was nailed by an accidental gybe. It happened during our trip to the Bras D'Or Lakes.
The Bras D'Or Lakes in Cape Breton have quickly become a favourite cruising destination for us in the summer as the area offers beautiful, secluded anchorages and good sailing. Last summer we spent two weeks in the Lakes. Midway through our trip we pulled into Baddeck to pick up some supplies. With the forecast for the following day calling for 30 to 50 knots of wind gusts in the channels and heavy rain, we stayed put for an extra day. We spent our bonus day in Baddeck watching movies, working on our laptops, chatting with other cruisers, doing laundry between downpours of rain, and exploring the shopping and restaurants of downtown Baddeck.
The following day the wind had died down and the sun was struggling to break through the clouds. A quick check of the weather forecast and the radar showed a chance of showers, but winds in the more reasonable 15-20 knot range. We left Baddeck headed for Orangedale. There was a good breeze, about 10-12 knots, and a mix of sun and cloud overhead.
We headed for the bridge at Iona, under full sail and on a broad reach. Sailing along at a good clip, we were enjoying the sail and making plans for our anchorage that later that afternoon in Orangedale. However, we were keeping a close eye on the clouds and weather as rain had been forecast and we were concerned that wind might accompany a rain shower. The deep narrow channels can sometimes do a good job of funnelling the wind in strong gusts and we wanted to be prepared.
As we made our way towards Iona, the wind did start to pick up and we could see a squall line approaching up the channel behind us. We reduced sail by furling in the jib and I stayed on the helm while Jay went below to make an early lunch. The weather quickly cooled as the squall approached. The sky darkened and I pushed my sunglasses up on my forehead to better see. A few drops of rain started splattered the cockpit and I quickly thrust the cockpit cushions down the companionway to keep them dry.
The wind shifted slightly and we were now edging even further into a downwind run. I adjusted the mainsheet accordingly. The sun was now completely hidden and the wind and light rain had a sudden chill. The sun had been keeping me warm and now with its disappearance I wanted my rain jacket. I asked Jay to pass my gear up from below. Here is where I made my mistake. I took my eye off the approaching squall line and moved forward of the wheel to take my jacket and pants from Jay. I quickly shrugged in to the jacket, reaching out to steady the wheel. Although we don't have autopilot aboard Obsession, when the sails are set, we can leave the wheel for a moment or two without any consequences. But not when a squall is approaching. I did not take into account that the wind might hit a bit before the wall of rain that was quickly approaching us from the stern.
I then did something that may well have saved my life. I grabbed my foul weather pants and sat down at the companionway to pull them on, facing the stern of the boat. I took my attention off the wheel for a split second. I started to bend forward to pull on my pant leg and was slammed backwards and sideways against the bulkhead in the cockpit, knocking the wind out of me. Just as I had taken my attention from the wheel, the approaching edge of the squall hit the boat and the resulting wind shift had gybed the mainsail. With no preventer in place the boom had gone flying across with incredible force, narrowly missing my head. The traveller is located at the front edge of the companionway and as the boom moved across, the line was pulled out of the traveller cleats and the mainsheet had come flying across the width of the boat. The mainsheet had slammed against my chest, pinning me and momentarily robbing me of both my breath and my ability to speak. BY sitting down at the exact second I did, I narrowly missed being hit in the head.
The crash of the boom had Jay flying up the companionway steps to see what had happened. As I lay slumped against the side of the cockpit he was certain I had been nailed in the head. I couldn't find the breath to answer and the pressure of the sheet was keeping me pinned in place. As my breath came back to me and I gasped out that I was ok, he helped me wiggle out from under the sheet. After reassuring himself that I was ok, and I didn't need any help, Jay retreated below. I went back to the wheel, taking control of Obsession once again, as the skies opened and the rain came down with a vengeance. I clung to the wheel, slightly bruised, but largely unhurt. I shivered with delayed reaction thinking about how different things may have been if I had not sat down when I did. I could have been seriously injured, if not killed, if the boom had hit me in the head.
Within 30 minutes the squall had passed, the sun was struggling to come back out, we were increasing sail as the wind returned to normal, and eating lunch. After we anchored in a cove near Orangedale later that day, we relaxed in the cockpit discussing what we did right and what we should have done differently. We were right to reduce sail as we did and to keep an eye on the weather. I should have called Jay to take the wheel while I put on my foul weather gear, and not taken my attention from the helm when the weather was so unsettled. It also reminded us of the value rigging a preventer in preventing an accidental gybe. And most importantly it reminded me not to let my guard down. I am hyper vigilant about the boom when others are aboard, but I had forgotten about the danger to myself.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
There's No Monster Living In The Oven
Recently, we had a friend put out a question on what people like to eat while on board their boats. Most of the responses demonstrated the popularity of pre-packaged foods for most people. After all, it is a short sailing season in this area, and I guess people consider meal preparation to be a waste of time. Either that, or they are afraid of the oven even though I've never had any monsters pop out when I opened the door. It got us thinking about how our eating habits aboard have changed.
A couple of years ago, we posted a blog about cooking on board, and stressed the simplicity of our choices. As with all aspects of sailing, as the time has passed, we have become more comfortable with cooking aboard and a bit more experimental. Although we still tend to concentrate on the simpler options most of the time, simple does not mean uninventive or uninspiring meals.
We have now sailed Obsession through three full summers, and this past year we added a new element to our inventory - a live basil plant. We use basil frequently in cooking at home, and keep two or three basil plants on the go at all times. This summer, we decided to try taking one with us. Most of the time, he lived in his pot in the sink, which prevented him from flying all over the cabin. He was a great addition, enabling us to add fresh herb flavour to our food through the whole trip. (I say "he" because Michelle named him "Melvin".) Only once did he topple over onto the floor, and that wasn't even due to the motion of the boat - we bumped into him while we are at dock. Fresh basil made a great addition to pizza, pasta, lasagne, and some other dishes.
Next summer, we may get more adventurous yet and try to bring along a wider variety of live herbs.
Other than the basil, we use lots of herbs in our cooking, but we've always taken dried herbs. To store them, we use a container made to hold daily pills. The one we use has eight spots (for a week's supply of pills), and use each compartment to hold a different type of herb. Using them judiciously, this will last us for a trip of two weeks or so. We also keep a small bottle of olive oil, and some basic staples such as flour and sugar.
Sailing around PEI and Nova Scotia in the summer there is usually lots of opportunity to buy fresh local produce. Many small towns have farmer's markets and fresh vegetables are always a welcome addition to the menu - whether as a side dish or a main component of a main dish. Some fresh mushrooms, zucchini, peppers, tomatoes, snow peas, brocolli and onion sauted in olive oil with some herbs make a great addition to pasta or a stirfry. Leftovers go in a ziploc or colapsible container in the icebox and can be easily reheated atop the stove. Leftover baked potato from an evening meal makes hashed browns the next morning.
The barbecue remains a popular choice on hot days, so the cabin doesn't get too hot, but our oven gets pressed into service often. There is nothing like some hot chocolate chip cookies right out of the oven when it is raining and damp outside. We also make up biscuit mix at home and bring it along in a container, so we just need to add liquid, mix, form the dough into biscuits and pop them in the oven.
Nacho chips smothered in cheese and salsa fresh out of the oven is a popular snack aboard, as are fruit, nuts and chips, because of the salt content.
But along with the barbecue, the oven remains a mainstay during our trips. We've tackled pizza, lasagne, biscuits, cookie, muffins, and other items. They don't have to be difficult recipes, but fresh herbs, fruit, and vegetables can easily liven up any meal. We think it makes the overall sailing experience more enjoyable.
Oh yeah, and we never forget the wine.
A couple of years ago, we posted a blog about cooking on board, and stressed the simplicity of our choices. As with all aspects of sailing, as the time has passed, we have become more comfortable with cooking aboard and a bit more experimental. Although we still tend to concentrate on the simpler options most of the time, simple does not mean uninventive or uninspiring meals.
We have now sailed Obsession through three full summers, and this past year we added a new element to our inventory - a live basil plant. We use basil frequently in cooking at home, and keep two or three basil plants on the go at all times. This summer, we decided to try taking one with us. Most of the time, he lived in his pot in the sink, which prevented him from flying all over the cabin. He was a great addition, enabling us to add fresh herb flavour to our food through the whole trip. (I say "he" because Michelle named him "Melvin".) Only once did he topple over onto the floor, and that wasn't even due to the motion of the boat - we bumped into him while we are at dock. Fresh basil made a great addition to pizza, pasta, lasagne, and some other dishes.
Next summer, we may get more adventurous yet and try to bring along a wider variety of live herbs.
Other than the basil, we use lots of herbs in our cooking, but we've always taken dried herbs. To store them, we use a container made to hold daily pills. The one we use has eight spots (for a week's supply of pills), and use each compartment to hold a different type of herb. Using them judiciously, this will last us for a trip of two weeks or so. We also keep a small bottle of olive oil, and some basic staples such as flour and sugar.
Sailing around PEI and Nova Scotia in the summer there is usually lots of opportunity to buy fresh local produce. Many small towns have farmer's markets and fresh vegetables are always a welcome addition to the menu - whether as a side dish or a main component of a main dish. Some fresh mushrooms, zucchini, peppers, tomatoes, snow peas, brocolli and onion sauted in olive oil with some herbs make a great addition to pasta or a stirfry. Leftovers go in a ziploc or colapsible container in the icebox and can be easily reheated atop the stove. Leftover baked potato from an evening meal makes hashed browns the next morning.
The barbecue remains a popular choice on hot days, so the cabin doesn't get too hot, but our oven gets pressed into service often. There is nothing like some hot chocolate chip cookies right out of the oven when it is raining and damp outside. We also make up biscuit mix at home and bring it along in a container, so we just need to add liquid, mix, form the dough into biscuits and pop them in the oven.
Nacho chips smothered in cheese and salsa fresh out of the oven is a popular snack aboard, as are fruit, nuts and chips, because of the salt content.
But along with the barbecue, the oven remains a mainstay during our trips. We've tackled pizza, lasagne, biscuits, cookie, muffins, and other items. They don't have to be difficult recipes, but fresh herbs, fruit, and vegetables can easily liven up any meal. We think it makes the overall sailing experience more enjoyable.
Oh yeah, and we never forget the wine.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Wrapping Up the 2010 Sailing Season at the Annapolis Sailboat Show
So, here we are January 2011 and snow is on the ground in PEI. Obsession is tucked away in winter storage and my house is overflowing with sailing gear which has been taken off the boat for the winter. Sailing is never far from my mind though. Boat Show season is here. Although the Halifax Boat Show is next month, I don't have a strong desire to go this year. Why? I have been spoiled. Two years in a row now we have attended the United States Sailboat Show in Annapolis, Maryland - the largest in water sailboat show in the world. With over 250 boats in the water and hundreds of exibitors it is a sailor's dream.
As the show is held in early October, we put Obsession to bed for the winter and travelled down to check it out. Once again we met up with friends while we were there and spent two days at the show. All the sailboat manufacturers were there with their new design. We climbed aboard boats from: Beneteau, Hunter, Catalina, Jenneau, J-Boat, Hallbery-Rassey, Hanse, C&C, Island Packet, Gozzard, Dufour, Sabre, and Tartan. We also checked out some catamarans: Fountaine Pajot, Lagoon, Moorings, and Gemini. The new Beneteau Sense was a real highlight - I loved the office. Yet, I remain partial to the Gozzard as a cruising boat. I love the open forward cabin design rather than a traditional v-berth. Surprisingly, I found the 40 foot Hallbery-Rassey felt as cramped as a 30 footer.
Next year's show is October 6-10, 2011. If you go - wear comfortable shoes for walking, bring sun protection, be prepared to take your shoes off to board the boats, and make arrangements for accomodation early. Be sure to spend some time exploring the area while you are there. It is beautiful!
So did we buy anything - not much. But we learned lots, made a to do list for improvements to our boat and dreamed big!
As the show is held in early October, we put Obsession to bed for the winter and travelled down to check it out. Once again we met up with friends while we were there and spent two days at the show. All the sailboat manufacturers were there with their new design. We climbed aboard boats from: Beneteau, Hunter, Catalina, Jenneau, J-Boat, Hallbery-Rassey, Hanse, C&C, Island Packet, Gozzard, Dufour, Sabre, and Tartan. We also checked out some catamarans: Fountaine Pajot, Lagoon, Moorings, and Gemini. The new Beneteau Sense was a real highlight - I loved the office. Yet, I remain partial to the Gozzard as a cruising boat. I love the open forward cabin design rather than a traditional v-berth. Surprisingly, I found the 40 foot Hallbery-Rassey felt as cramped as a 30 footer.
Next year's show is October 6-10, 2011. If you go - wear comfortable shoes for walking, bring sun protection, be prepared to take your shoes off to board the boats, and make arrangements for accomodation early. Be sure to spend some time exploring the area while you are there. It is beautiful!
So did we buy anything - not much. But we learned lots, made a to do list for improvements to our boat and dreamed big!
Saturday, October 23, 2010
A bittersweet memory
As I write this I am sitting in the Montreal airport waiting for a flight home from a business trip to Ottawa. Obsession is snugly tucked away in winter storage, awaiting a new adventure next year. Our last sail of the season, a month ago now, is just a memory.
It was a Sunday. The air was crisp and clear. The brisk wind had a slight chill, carrying with it the promise of fall. Even the warm sunshine could not completely chase away the hint of the cooler weather to come; but, with a good 10-15 knots of wind, conditions were prime for a late season sail.
Jay and I had offered to bring out some friends for that oft promised sail which had somehow never materialized over the summer, but it was not to be. Our friends were unable to come at the last minute. Though we love sharing our boat with others, we thoroughly enjoy just being the two of us too, so we clambered aboard, did our usual pre-sail checks and readied to make way.
The wind was very co-operative, so we didn't even bother turning on the engine, but unfurled the jib, slipped the dock lines and silently slipped away from the floating dock. Leaving the Montague Marina behind, we sailed down the river under jib alone, enjoying the sun reflecting off the dimples in the water and the warm sunshine. Sheltered from the full force of the wind in the winding river, we drifted leisurely pass the homes and cottages dotting the banks. Off the Lower Montague Wharf, the Montague River widens as it prepares to meet the Brudenell River and then Cardigan Bay. Beyond Panmure Island and Boughton Island which guard either side of the mouth of Cardigan Bay lies the Northumberland Strait. Anxious now to be off, we put up the main sail and sailed out past Georgetown into Cardigan Bay in 10 knots of wind, with the optimum degree of heel, our knotmeter climbing to a respectable 6 knots.
I have often remarked to Jay that Obsession reminds me of a race horse. Her sleek lines and large sails make her a fun boat to sail. Draping the mainsail cover over the mainsail as it lies neatly flaked on the boom after a day of sailing is like wrapping a blanket over the back of a racehorse after a race. That day, I gave Obsession her head. With the sails set and rudder in harmony, Obsession was perfectly balanced. We don't have autohelm on Obsession, but when she is balanced just right you don't need it. She will sail a straight and true course. And that day, she fairly flew across the water, racing for the sheer joy of movement.
I sat on the high side in the cockpit, a windbreaker over my sweater against the slight chill, curled up against Jay's side, the helm in easy reach if the need should arise. But Obsession, she sailed herself. It was as if, on this day, our boat was alive. She knew it was her last sail of the season and was determined to give us a ride we would not forget over the long, cold months of winter.
The water sparkled in the sunshine, the angle of sun's rays causing the small white-capped seas to reflect like brilliant diamonds. The sky was an incredible blue, dotted with cotton-like clouds. The red cliffs of the Island standing out proudly against the dark blue of the sea contrasted with the green farmland, trees with leaves just starting to turn colours and small houses dotting the landscape. I was silenced by the beauty around me. Obsession's sleek bow parted the water effortlessly, dancing over the small waves, leaving a fine mist of spray. The dodger kept us snug and dry as Jay and I sat in comfortable silence, each preoccupied with our own thoughts.
I always feel so alive on the water. I passionately love sailing and when I am not on the boat, my spirit aches. It as if there is a small hollow inside me, a space that is only filled when we are on the water. That day, I was overflowing with joy. I was with the most important person in my life, doing what I most love to do, in absolutely perfect conditions.
As we left Panmure Island behind to our starboard and then Boughton Island behind to our port, neither Jay nor I moved to change course. We let Obsession take us where she willed. She raced over the water, picking up speed to 6.5 knots, sailing by herself out into the Strait. I touched the wheel lightly from time to time, as if to reassure her we were there and still enjoying the ride. Cuddled with Jay in the cockpit, I felt safe and warm, but also incredibly alive. The sounds of the water against the hull and the slight creaking in the rigging as we rose over the waves, the feel of the sun and the wind against my face and the sight of the beautiful scenery around me created a symphony for my senses. It is so easy to take for granted the beauty around us. I feel truly blessed to live in a place as beautiful as Prince Edward Island, but it is so easy to rush from place to place, from task to task and not take the time to enjoy the moment. We lead busy lives. But on our boat I am always fully immersed in the moment.
Sailing requires you to be in tune with what is around you. Your focus must be on the boat, the crew and your surroundings. Whatever the conditions, you must be attuned to the potential for change, the potential for danger, and the potential for joy. This is why I love sailing. It is at once, both so simple and so complicated. And I am always learning.
Skills and knowledge, resiliency, self-reliance, ingenuity, and a willingness to constantly learn are required for sailing. Jay and I have only owned our own boat for three years. In these past three years we have sailed approximately 3000 nautical miles. We have bareboat chartered in the British Virgin Islands. We have sailed around various ports and harbours in Prince Edward Island. We have sailed across the Northumberland Strait quite a number of times, and visited various ports in Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. We have faced various sailing conditions, equipment failures and personal challenges. And each time we slip the dock lines or pull up the anchor we are eager for a new adventure and a new life lesson. Whether the wind is light and we ghost across water so still it becomes a mirror, or we are bouncing over waves in a rolling sea in strong winds, I love the adventure of sailing.
But that day our adventure was bittersweet as I knew it would be our last sailing adventure on Obsession for the year. Eventually, we reluctantly agreed it was time to rein Obsession in and point her bow toward home. She seemed reluctant as I took the wheel and Jay handled the sails, as if knowing that there would be many months ahead spent sitting on the hard. As we reset the sails, Jay took over on the helm and I settled back against the cabin, sheltered by the dodger from the wind which seemed so much colder in this new direction. The wind picked up as we headed back in, requiring us furl in the jib part way. As we drew nearer to land, I tried to burn every sensation into my memory, wondering how many months it would be before I would again be sailing.
We lowered the sails as we passed Lower Montague Wharf and turned on the engine. Jay piloted the boat up the Montague River and we quietly talked about what needed to be done over the next few days to ready the boat to come out of the water the following week. I knew it was almost certainly our last sail as I was off to Ottawa on business for a few days; still, I couldn't bear to take the sails off just in case we could squeak in one more sail. So we agreed to leave the sails on but gather other items that had collected over the summer which we knew we would not need. I went below to pack.
All too soon, we were approaching the last bend in the River and I came topside to attach the fenders and ready the lines. As we drew up to the dock and I stepped off with the bow line and made her fast, I felt a tear threaten. After securing the boat, I climbed back aboard and took the end of the main sail cover. I walked across the cabin top to the mast, my hand on the neatly flaked main sail resting on the boom. I pulled the main sail cover over the sail and around the boom and mast. Again I was reminded of putting a blanket over the shoulders and back of a racehorse. With my arms already around the boom at the mast securing the cover, I couldn't help myself from hugging the boat. Thanks , Obsession, for an amazing sail and a wonderful season. I am counting the days till we go sailing again on another new adventure.
It was a Sunday. The air was crisp and clear. The brisk wind had a slight chill, carrying with it the promise of fall. Even the warm sunshine could not completely chase away the hint of the cooler weather to come; but, with a good 10-15 knots of wind, conditions were prime for a late season sail.
Jay and I had offered to bring out some friends for that oft promised sail which had somehow never materialized over the summer, but it was not to be. Our friends were unable to come at the last minute. Though we love sharing our boat with others, we thoroughly enjoy just being the two of us too, so we clambered aboard, did our usual pre-sail checks and readied to make way.
The wind was very co-operative, so we didn't even bother turning on the engine, but unfurled the jib, slipped the dock lines and silently slipped away from the floating dock. Leaving the Montague Marina behind, we sailed down the river under jib alone, enjoying the sun reflecting off the dimples in the water and the warm sunshine. Sheltered from the full force of the wind in the winding river, we drifted leisurely pass the homes and cottages dotting the banks. Off the Lower Montague Wharf, the Montague River widens as it prepares to meet the Brudenell River and then Cardigan Bay. Beyond Panmure Island and Boughton Island which guard either side of the mouth of Cardigan Bay lies the Northumberland Strait. Anxious now to be off, we put up the main sail and sailed out past Georgetown into Cardigan Bay in 10 knots of wind, with the optimum degree of heel, our knotmeter climbing to a respectable 6 knots.
I have often remarked to Jay that Obsession reminds me of a race horse. Her sleek lines and large sails make her a fun boat to sail. Draping the mainsail cover over the mainsail as it lies neatly flaked on the boom after a day of sailing is like wrapping a blanket over the back of a racehorse after a race. That day, I gave Obsession her head. With the sails set and rudder in harmony, Obsession was perfectly balanced. We don't have autohelm on Obsession, but when she is balanced just right you don't need it. She will sail a straight and true course. And that day, she fairly flew across the water, racing for the sheer joy of movement.
I sat on the high side in the cockpit, a windbreaker over my sweater against the slight chill, curled up against Jay's side, the helm in easy reach if the need should arise. But Obsession, she sailed herself. It was as if, on this day, our boat was alive. She knew it was her last sail of the season and was determined to give us a ride we would not forget over the long, cold months of winter.
The water sparkled in the sunshine, the angle of sun's rays causing the small white-capped seas to reflect like brilliant diamonds. The sky was an incredible blue, dotted with cotton-like clouds. The red cliffs of the Island standing out proudly against the dark blue of the sea contrasted with the green farmland, trees with leaves just starting to turn colours and small houses dotting the landscape. I was silenced by the beauty around me. Obsession's sleek bow parted the water effortlessly, dancing over the small waves, leaving a fine mist of spray. The dodger kept us snug and dry as Jay and I sat in comfortable silence, each preoccupied with our own thoughts.
I always feel so alive on the water. I passionately love sailing and when I am not on the boat, my spirit aches. It as if there is a small hollow inside me, a space that is only filled when we are on the water. That day, I was overflowing with joy. I was with the most important person in my life, doing what I most love to do, in absolutely perfect conditions.
As we left Panmure Island behind to our starboard and then Boughton Island behind to our port, neither Jay nor I moved to change course. We let Obsession take us where she willed. She raced over the water, picking up speed to 6.5 knots, sailing by herself out into the Strait. I touched the wheel lightly from time to time, as if to reassure her we were there and still enjoying the ride. Cuddled with Jay in the cockpit, I felt safe and warm, but also incredibly alive. The sounds of the water against the hull and the slight creaking in the rigging as we rose over the waves, the feel of the sun and the wind against my face and the sight of the beautiful scenery around me created a symphony for my senses. It is so easy to take for granted the beauty around us. I feel truly blessed to live in a place as beautiful as Prince Edward Island, but it is so easy to rush from place to place, from task to task and not take the time to enjoy the moment. We lead busy lives. But on our boat I am always fully immersed in the moment.
Sailing requires you to be in tune with what is around you. Your focus must be on the boat, the crew and your surroundings. Whatever the conditions, you must be attuned to the potential for change, the potential for danger, and the potential for joy. This is why I love sailing. It is at once, both so simple and so complicated. And I am always learning.
Skills and knowledge, resiliency, self-reliance, ingenuity, and a willingness to constantly learn are required for sailing. Jay and I have only owned our own boat for three years. In these past three years we have sailed approximately 3000 nautical miles. We have bareboat chartered in the British Virgin Islands. We have sailed around various ports and harbours in Prince Edward Island. We have sailed across the Northumberland Strait quite a number of times, and visited various ports in Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. We have faced various sailing conditions, equipment failures and personal challenges. And each time we slip the dock lines or pull up the anchor we are eager for a new adventure and a new life lesson. Whether the wind is light and we ghost across water so still it becomes a mirror, or we are bouncing over waves in a rolling sea in strong winds, I love the adventure of sailing.
But that day our adventure was bittersweet as I knew it would be our last sailing adventure on Obsession for the year. Eventually, we reluctantly agreed it was time to rein Obsession in and point her bow toward home. She seemed reluctant as I took the wheel and Jay handled the sails, as if knowing that there would be many months ahead spent sitting on the hard. As we reset the sails, Jay took over on the helm and I settled back against the cabin, sheltered by the dodger from the wind which seemed so much colder in this new direction. The wind picked up as we headed back in, requiring us furl in the jib part way. As we drew nearer to land, I tried to burn every sensation into my memory, wondering how many months it would be before I would again be sailing.
We lowered the sails as we passed Lower Montague Wharf and turned on the engine. Jay piloted the boat up the Montague River and we quietly talked about what needed to be done over the next few days to ready the boat to come out of the water the following week. I knew it was almost certainly our last sail as I was off to Ottawa on business for a few days; still, I couldn't bear to take the sails off just in case we could squeak in one more sail. So we agreed to leave the sails on but gather other items that had collected over the summer which we knew we would not need. I went below to pack.
All too soon, we were approaching the last bend in the River and I came topside to attach the fenders and ready the lines. As we drew up to the dock and I stepped off with the bow line and made her fast, I felt a tear threaten. After securing the boat, I climbed back aboard and took the end of the main sail cover. I walked across the cabin top to the mast, my hand on the neatly flaked main sail resting on the boom. I pulled the main sail cover over the sail and around the boom and mast. Again I was reminded of putting a blanket over the shoulders and back of a racehorse. With my arms already around the boom at the mast securing the cover, I couldn't help myself from hugging the boat. Thanks , Obsession, for an amazing sail and a wonderful season. I am counting the days till we go sailing again on another new adventure.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)