I’d Give Myself a B+ on This Test

Yesterday I got tested by the wind gods and while I got a passing grade, I bet there will be future pop quizzes. I’m a month into my cruise to Canada, but yesterday was my first time sailing solo. I’m between crew members, and Nova Scotia’s Bras D’or Lakes offer too much to just sit and wait for company. So, I’m singlehanding for a few days.

Yesterday started out with a 5-10-minute blinding downpour after which the wind mellowed out. I put up the main and No. 4 Genoa and sailed on a starboard tack broad reach to the Little Narrows in the middle of St. Patrick’s Channel. The wind went aft and I couldn’t keep the jib flying so down it came. I continued with only the mainsail. As it was getting close to the time to take the main down before going through the Little Narrows, where you have to wait for the cable ferry to “dock,” the wind built and built. It seems the wind gods always breeze it up when the main has to come down just to see the show. With less than a mile to the opening of the channel, the wind built to 15-18 knots. No problem–I turned on the engine, turned into the wind, set the auto pilot and then let the main halyard run free. My Lazy Cradle simply gobbled up the main as it is designed to do.

I saw the ferry reach the west shore and put down its ramp. I watched the trucks and cars get off and then I saw new vehicles loading on. As I was getting closer, I slowed down to see if the ferry was going to depart. I called the ferry on the VHF and was told he would wait for me to pass. I thanked him and revved up to full throttle to get out of his way.

In the narrows, the wind was predictably light. There was another narrow spot three miles away as I passed between the reefs named Bell Rocks and MacIver’s Bank. After that, I had an eight-mile port-tack broad reach to Baddeck. I raised the main with a single reef in 10 knots of wind and, as I progressed, the wind increased. At first, I was slow with the reef, but as the puffs filled in, the boat went faster and faster. Of course, the wind was strongest when it was time to take down the main!

I kept thinking that, if I could get closer to shore before the narrow southern harbor entrance to Baddeck, I would get some wind shadow in which to drop the sail. But no, every time I turned up, the wind bent around the land and kept me on a broad reach. My plan was to avoid at all costs coming into the narrow harbor with the main up. But I was going 9 knots with a lot of weather helm in the gusts. I was left with no choice but to enter the harbor under sail and then turn up into the small cove in front of the Cape Breton Boatyard. The hope was that I wouldn’t run out of runway before dropping the main. After all, things tend to go wrong at the worst possible times. My heart was thumping.

I turned up, thought I pushed the button to engage the auto pilot, and went to free the main halyard. Of course, the auto pilot did not engage and I had to grab the tiller to keep the boat head to wind. Sometimes the button is finicky and, of course, when I’m in a hurry it is even more finicky.

After releasing the halyard, the main fell only part way because there was a twist in the halyard. Instead of re-coiling the halyard before the drop, I figured it was still clear — a short cut that did not pay off. I had to deal with kinks three times. Each time I had to straighten out the halyard tail, pull some tension on the halyard to free the cocked headboard car and then go back to the helm. Luckily, I had the runway to get this done, but my adrenaline was pumping. Once the main was down, I noticed that there was a fellow sitting in the cockpit of his moored boat watching the show I had just put on; I hope he enjoyed it.

As I motored through the harbor I had to open the anchor locker, release the safety on the anchor chain, and retrieve the windlass remote before picking a spot to drop the hook. I had to be relatively close to the shore to stay out of the channel and get into water less than 27 feet deep. Of course, one of the few open spots was near the lobster pot I wrapped around the keel on my earlier visit to Baddeck. I picked a safe spot, but as I was lowering the anchor in 20 knots of wind, with the boat already drifting off the shore, I had to dive through the forward hatch and free the fouled anchor chain. Of course, once the anchor bit and enough scope was released, I was precariously close to the lobster pot that had over 50 feet of line on the surface. I was close…but not fouling it. Boy, could I use a drink.

But as a singlehanded sailor, I couldn’t just end the day there as there was no one to help me put things away. I had to zip the Lazy Cradle, cover the hanked-on jib, coil lines, set a boom preventer, feed the hungry cat (yes, he is still with me), shut off the instruments and engine battery, make log entries, clean up the cabin of all the things that shifted, and then catch up on all the water I didn’t drink all day. My stiff drink waited until the next afternoon, which was much quieter.

But three times that day, when I could have used a calm breeze, the wind gods threw big blows at me just to see if I could handle them. I believe I passed these tests and I’m sure there will be many more pop quizzes. I’ll take these lessons on my next singlehanded passages and report back on my test results.