By Lawrence Smith
With one year of sailing under our belts, we were feeling pretty good about our performance as sailors and very proud of
Sailaway. Countless hours of reading all that Sailnet had to offer, viewing videos, and reading books had paid off. We had learned how to dodge the water ferries, tankers, schooners, and the huge yachts that had the itch to throttle up at the exit of the Baltimore Harbor.
Our Columbia 24 was just right for learning to sail and great for the many beautiful sights that the Patapsco River had to offer. We had actually surprised ourselves on how well we had learned to handle
Sailaway and to know what she liked and did not like. Usually we sailed with three on board: my wife found the rhythm of handling the jib and winches, my son seemed to have the natural ability to read the wind and always had the right touch on the tiller, and I was great at calling out orders, trimming the main, and being the skipper of all skippers.
Still one member of our family had not yet shared in the joys of our newly found passion and that was my mother. Indeed she had never been on a sailboat before, but all the talk she had heard at the dinner table about jibs, port, starboard, hanks, etc. was beginning to capture her imagination. We kept pouring out our stories of all the beautiful things that can be discoverd when sailing and how all the senses are in overdrive, and thus we kept tempting her until we had her convinced to step on board and go for a daysail.
So a beautiful summer day in August was finally claimed for Mom's first sail. The wind was acting crazy at the slip. My wind telltales were bouncing around, never really steady in one direction. The water on the harbor showed signs of puffs, and every flag I saw was pointing in different directions. Well, I would figure this all out when I got out on the water.
We had raised the mainsail at the slip. Usually when we perform this task, the boom is unclipped from the aft stay after the main is fully up. My son always makes sure the boom is free, and I always confirm it has been released. On that day we motored out of the slip with my mom sitting on the port side cockpit, my wife was port side, adjacent the mast, getting the jib sheets in order, and my son was letting me steer out of the marina while he stood next to me.
Two tugs were inbound to the City harbor and I decided to give way. We made a 360-degree turn knowing they would clear by the time we made the turn; that also gave me a chance to look at the wind again. It was dead, no wind at all; the flags were down, my wind telltales just flopped.
After the turn, I decided to follow the tugs into the city harbor. The tugs were portside and I had a marina wall to starboard. This was going to be a sightseeing tour of the Inner harbor, something that is a grand site to see from a boat.
All at once, I felt the wind hitting the right side of my face; it was like someone had turned on a high-speed fan, the wind telltales were standing out and I felt the heel at once. We started to accelerate fast. I steered trying to get less heel, but the force was too strong. I told my son to release the mainsheet and give some slack of the mainsail, which was now rock hard and centered. She was completely loaded up and we were moving very fast. Then, I realized to my horror that the boom was still clipped to the aft stay, causing the boat to heel so hard that the water was just off my mother's back. I yelled to my son to release it, but the pressure was too great. We were going over!
My wife climbed over the cabin to the starboard side, I was out as far as I could lean with the tiller up to my chest, and my son just had this look of "I'm jumping." I could feel
Sailway right on the edge of slapping and all I could think of was that mom was going overboard on her first sail! Just as I thought we were going to slap, the barrel slides in the mast started breaking apart, sounding like shotgun blast, while the mainsail flapped violently. My wife reached to the mainsail halyard and released the main; it came down like a ton of bricks and at once the boat flattened out.
All of the sudden everything was quiet. Only the purr of the engine and my heart pounding could be heard. I looked at my mother
—she smiled. I'm not sure she really knew what had just happened. I was not really sure what had happened. I could see a huge puff going away from the boat, kicking up mist and waves as it headed out. Behind it, nothing! Not even a slight breeze.
I thought that was enough of the first sail for my mother and we decided to head for the slip. I asked my son about the boom and he said he forgot to unclip it; "Well, I forgot to confirm!" I replied.
I later learned that a micro burst can appear anywhere, anytime. And that a well prepared boat and crew can handle it, if all things are in order. However, that day, we were not in order. We failed to communicate with each other and I failed to get input from the crew about the wind. Thinking I could figure it out on the water was the wrong idea!
My mother thought we handled it very well, she said she was not afraid, because we all looked like we knew what we were doing! But, then again, Moms always think that! The next weekend, we had a beautiful sail on the river, we all worked together as a team, and my mother now understands why we rave about sailing!
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