Do you know how to sail?

We've had a run of good weather the past 4-5 days and Kris and I launched the dinghy last night with Jared and Nathalie to take advantage of the longer daylight, after-work time and a warm day.

I was first off work, so launched the boat and only had to wait about fifteen minutes before the rest of the crew showed. For the most part it was nice to sit and watch the sailing club races and feel the warm breeze. A couple of kids were fishing, lending the whole thing a bucolic, Huck Finn air, but occasionally the launch would experience a swarm of power boats and things transitioned quickly from Life on the Mississippi, to a night in da club.

The wake boats were out in force, with stereos blasting. A young couple wandered down and stood near me for a while, obviously looking for a ride with friends. I was able to overhear them making a call on their mobile and then a boat slid up with the hip-hop blasting. As the boat operator and the guy on the dock tried to converse with each other it apparently didn't occur to anyone involved to turn the stereo down.

"Whuh?"

"Dude."

"Huh?"

"Dude."

That was about all I could follow, except for the lyrics, which involved a recurring line about being from Miami.

So, time to get jiggy wid it.

On this night, I had two experiences with the jib that reinforced my slowly (very, very slowly) growing knowledge about boat handling. The main turns me into the wind and the jib wants to fall off. When we left the dock I wasn't clear enough to my crew on when to unfurl the jib. As we were falling off with the main, Kris unfurled sooner than I would have liked and we started turning right back into the dock. Without much problem and only a little bit of banging on the dock bumpers, we were able to fall off and do a loop through the launching bay.

The wind was excellent, blowing 8-10 knots upriver (from the North), and the sailing club was having their Monday evening racing session. We headed upwind, downriver, toward them, making four big tacks before falling off and goosewinging it upriver.

As we passed the midriver buoy, Nathalie commented on the floating homes near Oaks Park, something about what it might be like living there. We were set up for a broad reach that would pass us right along the row of homes, so I offered to cruise past them.

We were starting to get the feel for the wind this evening and everybody had their controls in hand as we smartly turned to port, dropped the centerboard halfway and quickly picked up speed across the river.

We were passing within about thirty feet of the houses when the boat started to feel as though it were losing power, or at least making way more leeway than I thought it should.

Sure enough, we were pushed right up on the third house in the row, which of course was the only one with objects sticking out over the water. Pretty quickly, our shrouds were hung up in the plastic poles the homeowner had deployed to hold their jetskis. And just as quickly, a cranky-looking old woman was out on her upper deck staring daggers at us. I wondered why she looked at us with such purpose, when out of her thin-lipped grimace popped, "Do you know how to sail?"

It wasn't so much a question, as an accusation. I answered quickly and lightly, "Well, we're learning!" And then I had the crew furl the jib and hold us off from banging on the dock.

The woman said a few more rude things, which I don't recall and finally came down and pulled the plastic rod out of it's mount, setting us free.

With the jib put away, the main turned us into the wind and we were able to overcome, what I then realized was a strong eddy that pushes right into the homes at this point.

Kris made a very direct comment to the woman, along the lines of, "You could show a little understanding." I think she was irritated that, even though three of us had apologized and nothing was damaged, this woman was absolutely and unrepentantly grumpy.

I guess she's got the right to be, but I also sort of wondered why so early in the season, and how's she going to feel after a whole summer of wake boats roaring by, blasting L'il Wayne and dropping off bikini'ed young ladies to pee on her deck ...

We managed to stay out of trouble for the next half-hour or so, making runs upriver and down and speculating on whether the old biddy was going to be able to return to Dr. Phil uninterrupted after her run-in with the novice sailors.

We've adopted 'Do you know how to sail?' and I'm sure it will be with us for years to come, with many opportunities to toss it out for our own entertainment.

Red-tailed Hawk Sail

We had a clear day in Stumptown and I took advantage, heading down to Willamette Park around eleven. As I came through the Terwilliger curves and down toward John's Landing, I could see the river and it was surrealistically glassy.

I decided to head up to the chandlery to see if my twisted D-shackle came in and maybe cause some wind to start whipping as I drove across the river on the Marquam bridge.

I picked up some new sail ties to replace the set that floated away on the infamous DR 1 sail. My twisted D wasn't in, but I found a comparable shackle, sail ties, and some other odds and ends that this sport niggles out of you.

Back down to Willamette Park and I launched about noon. There was a slight breeze and some nice little 4 knot puffs that started to pick up as I set off. I sailed upriver, tacking a half-dozen times and trying to pay close attention to the sail shape and what the telltales were doing.

I was able to get a nice little v-wake behind me, with the initial wave actually rolling over itself. The centerboard was gurgling and I was making good way upriver. On a starboard tack, the Portland Spirit headed up the channel as I made way toward her. I crossed the river toward the Macadam Bay floating home community and made a final tack back to the center of the river and around the green can.

I struggled getting the boat to go wing and wing, even after pulling the centerboard up. I was struck by how rapidly the boat makes way down river, down wind, while the apparent wind is hard to detect at all. After a thirty minute trip up, I was back to the launch in about ten minutes.

I furled the jib and put the centerboard back to about halfway down and was able to gybe to port and into the launch corral. As soon as I pulled centerboard back up, the boat slipped directly across and I came abeam on the starboard side, releasing the mainsheet as I put out a hand to brace the dock.

After loading the boat I headed home. Turning up Taylor's Ferry and rounding a corner to right, I saw a large bird dropping in front of me from the trees. A red-tailed hawk dropped a car length ahead of me, and facing up hill at windshield height, he spread every feather he had to turn his dive into a flapping recovery. I was able to pick out details in individuals feathers, a few feet away from me, as he flapped back up and away.

Designing for Fabulous Prizes 1

Jolea the Gypsy Pirate Wench knocked out a handful of great logo ideas for the dinghy. Love'em!

Air Command?

Great day for a drift! Kris got her first trip on the dinghy yesterday. I was wondering what her hold-up was. I'm certain that past events couldn't have caused the hesitation on her part. However, she did seem a little more confident that Shannon the real sailor was coming along with us on Sunday.

After a pretty hearty b-day celebration, my newly 24 (ahem) y/o wife and I set off for Willamette Park and a day on the dinghy. It was incredibly beautiful in Portland this day. We hit at least 61-deg and the sun was shining the whole time. In the morning, we took our breakfast and coffee to our favorite spot on Skyline, atop the West Hills and we were able to see as far as Mt. Rainier in the North Cascades. That's a long way from Portland, since Mt. Rainier sits just a bit SE of Seattle.

It's also a rare treat this time of year, since we are usually socked in with some Pacific Low that brings us much grayness, wetness, and thoughts of our own doom. If you've ever had a water pipe break in a closet with no lights and then you spent six months living in that closet, you can imagine what a winter in Portland is like. Not too cold, not drenchingly wet, but more of a drizzling wetness, not very well-lit, and too long.

So, we had the opposite this day and it was a great day for a float. If we'd have had the slightest breeze, it may have been a great day for sailing also. However, we ended up drifting out into the current, then heading downstream, catching a slight puff and tacking back to the local sailing club, where we sat abeam the dock for a half-hour and chatted. We took turns looking up at the club's wind indicator, the rotating three-cup type, commenting at how it was possible that thing could not be moving AT all.

A woman came down with her Feva and launched while we were there. We chatted with her as she made about a tenth of knot toward us. Then we were off again, as the slightest hint of a breeze puffed at us.

We made way to the channel and the wind died again. So, out came the paddle, which was about the fastest we traveled all day. Passing a Catalina Capri 18, we realized that our failure to stock the boat with beer, as these folks had, might have been more a cause of jealousy this day, than our envy of their motor. Drifting becomes a whole other enterprise when properly fueled. This sort of undertaking becomes a chance for reflection and deep philosophical exploration if properly lubricated.

After some more drifting and paddling we made it back to the launch where we talked some more and hung out. Then, miracle of miracles, a palpable breeze and we were underway.

At least four tacks across the river and Kris got to feel some real sailing, before it died out again as we drifted into the launch ramps.

We hauled the boat, reconvened at the Fulton for victuals and called it a day.

The legend of the DR1 is growing, I should add. I may have to re-title that post. Throughout this day's sailing, Kris and Shannon kept asking me, feigning innocence, "Where was it you capsized?"

And, "Air Command, eh? I didn't even know Portland had that sort of thing."

Yeah, they 'have that sort of thing' and they apparently aren't afraid to use it...