Electric Sails and Toerails

"Are these sails electric?" the daughter asks while sailing. She's sitting in the companionway, arms up on the hatch sides. Her head is back, looking up at the mainsail. It looks big and important now that the boat is running ahead of the wind, the mainsail far out to the side.

We've been been talking back and forth about things we see. "Look at this. Look at that." Her question is a little startling. My ears had not expected the word electric to follow sails. She's born to an electric world.

This might be the first time she has chosen to consider the sails. She's been sailing with me since the age of two.

Now, at almost eight, more details are suddenly needed. For my part I had not ever thought to explain sails.

She has taken the tiller many times. She knows what it does. It points the boat either over to a friends boat or back to the marina. I suppose what it affects underwater does not yet matter. What it does for the ex-helmsman is provide constant practice in tacks, jibes and traffic avoidance. All good for sharpening racing skills. Try it sometime. She steers where she likes, when she likes, or just lets the boat take its own heading. I trim the sails, occasionally mentioning the problem with windward pointing.
"Nope, they're just cloth."
"Who invented them?"

She's recently been explaining some inventions she knows about. I heard about some imaginary device that her friend invented a few days ago. She says she too has invented something. I can't remember its confusing concept or function.

I proposed that some ancient people were probably familiar with both boats and the wind blowing things around. It probably left a lasting impression on more than one ancient when the canoe blew out to sea on a gale. Animal skins stretched on sticks would make a good sail. [If it were of mink pelts then the cost would be about right too.]

This summer she will be old enough to join the Juniors sailing program at the YC. There is obviously an interest inside her now that was not there last year. For all its mechanical complexity, sailing comes surprisingly easy to kids. Sailboats do not have much to show for thousands of years of evolving design. The fastest sailboat of today doesn't go much faster than that ancient blew out to sea. Sure they have a hundred adjustments, but they are not adjusting anything new, nor do is the speed increased but a fraction. That ancient mariner could master this CAL 36 in a few days. And I like the connection with the distant past. Sailing by feel comes easier to both children and ancients who have little need to understand the invisible air flows. No need for Bernoulli, circulation and slots. Less also is their need to compete.

Sitting in the companionway is a favorite. A photograph taken over 30 years ago shows my sister and I in the very same companionway. On the Cal 36 both kids and adults can stand or sit here. From here one can see in all directions. Having a long tiller allows easy steering while sitting next the person secured in the companionway. I often sit there by myself, steering behind my back while fiddling with the radar, radios and such.

Just outside the companionway, tucked in the corners where bulkhead and backrests meet is another favorite of friends young and old alike. Few legs can reach the far side of the cockpit or even the far bench. The best addition ever made to the boat may be the toe rail at the center of the bridge deck. One dollar of teak and three bolts provides a surprising amount of comfort and security. Treats passed up from below are propped against it. Nobody seems to trip on it even though it looks like everyone should.

Next up: Were those penguins, or do I need a vacation?

David
Eupsychia
Monterey