It's true—I have officially joined the ranks of solo sailors. But before my head swells too much, I must admit my grand voyage was merely a circumnavigation of Coon Island. Still, I did it solo, and without a motor.
I cast off that melancholy mid-morning, just after breakfast, heading south. Almost immediately, I was met with a 1.5 mph adverse current that began dragging me backward. Fortunately, my 30-year-old, new-to-me 9.5-foot sailing dinghy performed admirably in the light airs, overcoming the current with ease. Soon, I was past the point of no return, rounding the tip of Coon Island while carefully avoiding the sunken breakwater barge.
Once around the point, my trusty vessel was suddenly caught in a swirling vortex that might have rattled a less experienced sailor. The tiller went unresponsive as we spun through several dizzying 360-degree turns. Desperate to regain control—and trying not to get clocked in the head—I used my free hand to tame the boom and backwind the mainsail. At last, we broke free from the barge’s swirling eddies and were off, rail down, on three or four swift tacks along the island’s western edge.
Just minutes after breakfast and with no food or water aboard, I was already nearing my final turn. Ahead lay a telling downwind romp back to the dock I had departed from a mere 1,500 seconds earlier. Easing the mainsheet and slacking the outhaul, there was nothing left to do but bask in well-earned glory as I coasted toward the dock from the opposite direction of my departure.
As I handed my dock line to an admiring power boater, I was met with a warm greeting:
"I see your problem—you’ve got a loose nut on the end of your tiller."
 |
| One of two Coon Island floats, on shore are composting toilets, shelter, fire rings, and a few campsites. |
over the Memorial weekend I circled Ross Island.
ReplyDeleteand Hog Island.