First Time On A Sailboat

I guess I’m a long time sailor, but I was a long time power boater, as well. I can remember those days clearly…blue skies and seas as I headed out in my 42’ Chris Craft, adding power to move her out and just watching for the moment when the bow would descend into a plane. I would ease those throttles back a bit, and listen for those engines to synchronize….that cool sounding hum. What a feeling…heaven…until a pesky sailboat got in my way. It would seem they would turn their sailboat to cross my path on purpose. I would turn away, at times closely, (not too closely) to show my frustration. But, I was young in those days, and didn’t know any better. Most of those times, the sailboats had to turn (tack) to stay in deep water. Their drafts are 4 to 5 feet, so staying in the channel is a must for them. Plying the waters in Great South Bay in those days, you had to stay in channels… it was shallow!
I’d shoot out to Davis Park or Watch Hill on Fire Island (Long Islands’ barrier beach) for a cool weekend, or go out Fire Island Inlet for some shark fishing…maybe do some trolling out there in the Atlantic Ocean. Tuna always sounds good. When I kept my powerboat on the North Shore of Long Island, I’d head out by Eatons’ Neck (Huntington harbor area) to the Long Island Sound. We would watch for the boiling water to get those bluefish! Casting in, to snag those bunker, which were creating that boiling action, was all you had to do. A chopper (huge bluefish) would inhale that bunker you snagged and would give you one hell of a fight. It was a sensation, time after time. Connecticut was always a tease; their Rocky shore always brought in great fish! I never noticed sailboats fishing with us. For that matter, I never saw them fishing at all.
We would have fun get togethers that lasted all weekend, either anchored or dockside. It was a true beautiful run being a power boater. There were times when the generator gave out or a motor sputtered to a halt, but, all in all, what a fine territory power boating is. Just turn the key, let the dock lines go, and hit the throttle. How much simpler can it get? What a pleasure.
At one point my wife, Yvette and I had to move ashore. Reluctantly, my boating days came to an abrupt end. It’s not like we didn’t plan this. We kept getting larger and nicer power boats to live on, then fixing them up and selling (wood in those days), to a point where we could put a down payment on a house when and if we needed to. That came sooner than later. With my new career and home keeping me busy, I did not think I would miss boating. By the end of the first year, I was back on the water, but not exactly the way you or I would think.
Truthfully, all I can recollect is strolling down a dock by a boat brokerage. There were tall rigs on these boats, but they were not outriggers, they were masts! I don’t remember how I got to look for boats at this marina - the internet was not around yet (at least I don’t think so). I do recall stepping aboard this thing with a mast, bow first from the dock, and continued to the stern where the cockpit was. Sitting down and looking forward, I stared at this aluminum stick going skyward. This is a sailboat, Doug,” I told myself. What are you doing sitting in this? I thought. I don’t know,” I said. Looking around it seemed simple enough. A tiller for steering and an outboard motor in the aft compartment for propulsion. Still sitting there, I didn’t feel repulsed. I stared at the beige and tan deck, noticing the sleek lines as my eyes moved forward towards the bow. The only thing that interrupted those lines was this big tall thing sticking out of the fore deck.
My thoughts moved way back to a time my cousin and I went sailing. It was my first sailing experience. We were around 13 or 14 and he lived on the water in Seaford, the south shore of Long Island. At times I would get to stay weekends. Their huge wooden powerboat would be docked out back along with a 17’ speed boat. This weekend was special because next to their huge powerboat was a new addition. This little wooden centerboard sailboat, all of maybe 19’. It was a Lightning” open cockpit sailboat. My cousin Barry had received a great birthday gift, which included a training lesson scheduled for the next day. How lucky for Barry and I. His family was power boaters, making this seem odd owning a sailboat. But at our young ages, we knew an adventure was about to begin! The morning didn’t come fast enough. With breakfast out of the way, the chime from the door bell brought excitement.
In the past, my cousin Barry, his friends and I went zooming around on his 17’ Four Winns inboard outboard speedster. It seemed to be one of the fastest boats around. I would play with the carburetor and timing to extend acceleration and top end. I remember, even back then, having a knack for engines. I learned waterskiing with him along with daring boat amusements like jumping waves and hard sliding turnabouts. Looking at this sailboat, not knowing what speeds it could reach or anything else for that matter, made me very inquisitive and anxious to begin the day.
Life jackets were put aboard along with some lunch goodies. The sailing instructor looked around 20 years old and began by giving us a lesson on the theory of wind and the effects on sails of a sailboat at dockside. Armed with this knowledge, we ventured out with him putting what he taught us to the test - our test! This really went smoothly as we put the sailboat at different angles to the wind, and adjusted the sails accordingly. All this gave us forward motion. The more precise we were with the sail adjustments, the faster we went. Being close to the water, in this small sailboat, made any speed seem especially fast as the water along side rushed by. We did get to heel over (boat leaning over) and all of us moved to the high side. Boy, did she get up and go! He taught us how to head up into the wind to stop, and switch the wind from one side to the other. Switching the wind from coming over the portside of the boat, to the starboard side is called tacking if you are going into the wind. It is called jibbing” when the wind is coming from the aft (back of the boat). The instructor made this all seem effortless, which calmed our jitters.
Confidence grew, as we mastered the maneuvers. Our instructor just watched what and how we were doing things, correcting us here and there and giving us pointers. He seemed more like a friend. What we didn’t know was that our big test was coming - docking!!! As we came back to Barrys’ house, we had to dock the boat. Did I tell you the sailboat had no reverse!!! No engine, for that fact!! AAHHHHHH!!!!!! We thought we were going to crash!!! All we had was a canoe paddle and a big dock coming at us. But, alas…what was that other maneuver? As young boys, luck was on our side. That maneuver was coming into the wind” (turning the boat head on to the wind) and we ghosted right to dockside. Perfect!
Barry’s Mom was complimented by the instructor on how well we two young boys had done and what seamanship we showed. I really don’t know for sure what the instructor said, but it must have been better than good, because we were allowed out again alone!!! The only thing that was requested was to stay close to home and not venture too far, which we agreed to immediately. We couldn’t contain ourselves. I think his mom allowed this, because we would go out in the speedster all the time, zipping back when the weather would turn.
The day was still beautiful and out we went. It was downwind out the canal and a few tacks to get out in the bay. I remember being on a broad reach” (wind coming over the side of the boat) for awhile before we realized the wind was picking up. My cousin Barry was very adventurous. He would try different sail settings looking for that peak moment. I think that is what he did in life - find those peak moments. The sailboat was flying! We were proud of ourselves for going so fast. But that feeling soon evaporated as we looked overhead to some darks skies coming in. If we had the speedster, this would not be a problem. What we did not realize is in a sailboat, you can’t just zip back!