A Low Mileage Sail/ Another Offer of Help
Today, a short sail only. Not for want of trying, just that wind and tide were against us.
I launched at my favourite beach and as usual it was quiet ( only one other trailer in the car park). Getting off the beach was tricky as the 8knot SE wind was directly onshore, and the bottom shoals for 30 yards or so.To stem the leeway I put only light pressure on the hull by trimming the jib only, set the rudder blade flat across the surface and tailored along. Once out enough, down went the board, rudder blade and on with the main sheet. We shouldered a healthy breeze on the nose and despite slow headway to windward, there's pleasure in having any vessel doing her best, slicing along into wind and wave. A rather strange humming vibration came into play each time we hit top speed to windward, and it was such that I could figure whether it was coming from aloft or below the waterline. It did remind me of a noise surfboards would make if a bead of resin had been left on the fin. But I thought it was cool, something TILMAN does at speed. Around this time I also noticed a few errors in my rigging; the main was poorly set (again), the boom drooped, the yard was not hard up, the outhaul was loose, mainsheet rove the wrong way through its block and sail ties around the mast were slack causing a gap on the leading edge. I also noticed, rather embarrassingly, that the centralised was arse-about. Today I would not be lazy and shrug these faults off, I was determined to correct them.
This I did upon reaching our windward mark at Tailors Beach. I simply ran the dinghy hard ashore and got busy. Afterwards I wanted to loll about in the water like a handful of nearby children, but more so I was eager to see how this sail would pull when properly set.
We left the beach with a drag racer' s flourish. In fact heading NW in a SE wind is probably a bit too far of the wind than the ideal, but she pulled extremely well. We got overpowered at times and on this point of sail there's not much you can do besides lean back over the quarter and point off the wind a little (shadowing the jib). Nearing the N of Bulls Island, and time to gybe, I meant to sail by a channel marker to check the tide flow, but we passed it so rapidly, I forgot to check, but suspected the flood had eased.
It wad coming up to Gybe Time, there's no avoiding it apart from tacking around or keeping sailing ... onto a lee shore and totally screwing up. I had sea room and time, so shadowing the headsail I picked a lull of wind, put her on the back of a swell and eased the helm over. Ducking and hauling the main sheet in slowly through the eye of the wind, suddenly over it goes, ease the sheet, shift weight and off you go.
Our new course of SW shot us into the channel at the top end of the passage. Only one fishing boat about, five solid channel markers and oyster leases towards the shore (they alone are good incentive to not stuff up). But we had the measure of the wind, now funnelling a bit, maxing out about 15 knots, so we just needed to show vigilance. Some dinghy sailors will draw up the centreboard when going hard off the wind like this, but not me. I find the lateral resistance to yawing and better directional control to be safer. We were going fast enough.
Into the Passage (think 100 yards wide, packed with moored craft and a marina, oyster leases by either shore at times), the wind had veered to head us like it will in a river. So haul in the sheets and sail. Off the island hard by to windward, the wind was erratic in direction and speed, but some kind soul had put telltales on both sails and it was a matter of watching these and balancing information with tiller feel and bum on bilge feedback. The upside of our situation was that being late on an overcast Saturday, there was little traffic and the surface was glassy smooth and we shot along magically. Just about now a heavy looking yacht, the Sally-B, had raised its headsail and was ghosting off its mooring toward us. I'd have to negotiate it and moored craft, but the focus-grabbing situation bought the best out in TILMAN, she sliced along and made sharp tacks and responded to every lift and knock the wind offered. As he killed by the skipper of the yacht said "she's beautiful" just as we emerged from the mangroves and skated by his stern.
The approach to the ramp was downwind which is better with the centreboard drawn, as I approached the shore, I spotted a rock and deployed a handy oar to put us across the wind, as a voice came from the ramp "wanna hand mate?". It's so strange, what is it about Mirror songbird that draws people forward to offer help and be part of the fun? I think every time I've had TILMAN out someone has offered a hand.
I launched at my favourite beach and as usual it was quiet ( only one other trailer in the car park). Getting off the beach was tricky as the 8knot SE wind was directly onshore, and the bottom shoals for 30 yards or so.To stem the leeway I put only light pressure on the hull by trimming the jib only, set the rudder blade flat across the surface and tailored along. Once out enough, down went the board, rudder blade and on with the main sheet. We shouldered a healthy breeze on the nose and despite slow headway to windward, there's pleasure in having any vessel doing her best, slicing along into wind and wave. A rather strange humming vibration came into play each time we hit top speed to windward, and it was such that I could figure whether it was coming from aloft or below the waterline. It did remind me of a noise surfboards would make if a bead of resin had been left on the fin. But I thought it was cool, something TILMAN does at speed. Around this time I also noticed a few errors in my rigging; the main was poorly set (again), the boom drooped, the yard was not hard up, the outhaul was loose, mainsheet rove the wrong way through its block and sail ties around the mast were slack causing a gap on the leading edge. I also noticed, rather embarrassingly, that the centralised was arse-about. Today I would not be lazy and shrug these faults off, I was determined to correct them.
This I did upon reaching our windward mark at Tailors Beach. I simply ran the dinghy hard ashore and got busy. Afterwards I wanted to loll about in the water like a handful of nearby children, but more so I was eager to see how this sail would pull when properly set.
We left the beach with a drag racer' s flourish. In fact heading NW in a SE wind is probably a bit too far of the wind than the ideal, but she pulled extremely well. We got overpowered at times and on this point of sail there's not much you can do besides lean back over the quarter and point off the wind a little (shadowing the jib). Nearing the N of Bulls Island, and time to gybe, I meant to sail by a channel marker to check the tide flow, but we passed it so rapidly, I forgot to check, but suspected the flood had eased.
It wad coming up to Gybe Time, there's no avoiding it apart from tacking around or keeping sailing ... onto a lee shore and totally screwing up. I had sea room and time, so shadowing the headsail I picked a lull of wind, put her on the back of a swell and eased the helm over. Ducking and hauling the main sheet in slowly through the eye of the wind, suddenly over it goes, ease the sheet, shift weight and off you go.
Our new course of SW shot us into the channel at the top end of the passage. Only one fishing boat about, five solid channel markers and oyster leases towards the shore (they alone are good incentive to not stuff up). But we had the measure of the wind, now funnelling a bit, maxing out about 15 knots, so we just needed to show vigilance. Some dinghy sailors will draw up the centreboard when going hard off the wind like this, but not me. I find the lateral resistance to yawing and better directional control to be safer. We were going fast enough.
Into the Passage (think 100 yards wide, packed with moored craft and a marina, oyster leases by either shore at times), the wind had veered to head us like it will in a river. So haul in the sheets and sail. Off the island hard by to windward, the wind was erratic in direction and speed, but some kind soul had put telltales on both sails and it was a matter of watching these and balancing information with tiller feel and bum on bilge feedback. The upside of our situation was that being late on an overcast Saturday, there was little traffic and the surface was glassy smooth and we shot along magically. Just about now a heavy looking yacht, the Sally-B, had raised its headsail and was ghosting off its mooring toward us. I'd have to negotiate it and moored craft, but the focus-grabbing situation bought the best out in TILMAN, she sliced along and made sharp tacks and responded to every lift and knock the wind offered. As he killed by the skipper of the yacht said "she's beautiful" just as we emerged from the mangroves and skated by his stern.
The approach to the ramp was downwind which is better with the centreboard drawn, as I approached the shore, I spotted a rock and deployed a handy oar to put us across the wind, as a voice came from the ramp "wanna hand mate?". It's so strange, what is it about Mirror songbird that draws people forward to offer help and be part of the fun? I think every time I've had TILMAN out someone has offered a hand.
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