Deck Work at Night

December 5, 2018

Day 62

Noon Position: 48 14S  45 52W

Course(t)/Speed(kts): NExE 7

Wind(t/tws): SE 20 – 23

Sea(t/ft): SE 5

Sky: Low and Gray

10ths Cloud Cover: 10

Bar(mb): 1012

Cabin Temp(f): 52

Water Temp(f): 50

Relative Humidity(%): 82

Sail: Three reefs in main and working jib. Close reaching.

Noon-to-Noon Miles Made Good (nm): 141

Miles since departure: 8403

Avg. Miles/Day: 136

If it were a merry-go-round, you’d gently step off and stand in the shade of that oak tree for a while. But it’s not. It’s the ocean; it’s the south, and your merry-go-round is a boat. There’s no stepping off, even when wind and wave want to churn you to butter. All you can do is hang on.

The forecast said wind would take all night to swing into the south. It took two hours. By midnight I was on deck again tacking Mo around. This takes time. The running backs have to be shifted. The genoa has to be rolled in now that the inner forestay is set. The sheets have to be moved over one by one. (In strong weather, I move both sheets to one side; one in a car all the way forward for a tightly reefed sail, one further back for a sail a bit free. Then shift from one sheet to the other as needed. Saves moving a car in rough conditions.)

Mo came around smoothly on main alone. I blew her a kiss. By this time, though, wind was 18. I decided to take a reef in the big sail. When I returned to the cockpit, wind was 22. We would be reaching. I went for another reef and then left two rolls in the jib. A conservative sail-set at night means more sleep.

I went below and to bed. Two hours later, wind was 28. I went forward for a third reef in the main, but even in the bracing cold, my head remained dreaming. I forgot the rule: never let go of the halyard when reefing.

Handling the main on Mo takes care. It’s a powerful sail, a complicated rig, and the mast is prickly with hardware. Without care the batten cars can foul the lazy jacks or the sail luff can wrap in a mast step and the halyard can do the same. All of this can be avoided by going slowly and always keeping tension on the sail and halyard.

I had the sail half down when I noticed it had fouled a lazy jack and wouldn’t lower any further (I’d failed to bring the boom in before reefing). I let go the halyard so as to give a yank on the lazy jack line, and before I could correct myself, the halyard had flown up enough to wrap the top two steps. Now I had a sail that wouldn’t come down and couldn’t go up.

It is one of my biggest fears–being caught out in heavy weather with a mainsail stuck in the air.

In this case I simply let go the lazy jack line and pulled through the friction on the halyard. Easy save. But it’s the kind of thing that can go badly.

The day is low and gray. Wind continues hard from the SE and is blowing us into the strong arm of a low I don’t wish top mess with. I also don’t want to go any further north. But north is all that’s allowed for now. So tonight I’ll do without the main entirely; will try to slow down and let the southeasterly gale pass us by. There will always be another.

The cabin thermometer is stuck at 52, but it feels much colder below and on deck. I’ve put on a second layer of fleece and am now wearing gloves and am still a bit chilly. I hug myself and wonder how the albatross and prions do it, cavorting near Mo as if it were summer. Oh, it is summer. This is summer!