Blog post #5
Mike and Tom’s boats are now about halfway to James Island and about halfway across Rosario Strait. Plainly marked on Mikes nautical chart is Bird Rocks and Belle Rock and they are headed right for them. Mike chooses to go west of the rocks; this course will take them well clear of the commercial traffic channel in the middle of Rosario Strait. Keep a good watch out and pay close attention to your depth sounder Mike radios Tom, we will be less than ¼ mile from the rocks. The fog begins to lighten and in a few minutes they are completely in clear air. While dealing with the fog they were so busy keeping watch they had not noticed how wet and miserable it had become. Now in warm bright sunshine everyone is noticing how they and the boats are dripping wet . Tom points to Bird Rocks on the starboard side, right where expected. Then up ahead is today’s destination, James Island is only 1 ½ miles away. A fresh breeze is building on the beam, Mike kills his motor and begins hoisting the mainsail, Then he unfurls the jib sail and starts pulling away from Tom’s boat. The outboard motors are no match for a little wind. The last thing Tom hears is “were going sailing, race you to the cove” Mike sets a close hauled course to clear Belle Rock, he plans to shoot out into Rosario and then tack back in time to still make James Island. Tom and his crew are still motoring, apparently when he was rigging the boat he had not tied off the main halyard and somewhere along the way the halyard had run up the mast, so now there was no way to raise the main sail. In a little while Tom’s jib sail is up and he kills his motor also. The rest of the afternoon is beautiful sailing, exactly what they had come for. Mike repeatedly cuts across Toms bow taunting the other boats crew knowing they don’t have a chance of keeping up with only the jib up. When Mike reaches the cove he blasts right by, it’s hard to quit sailing when the conditions are so perfect. They make several more tacks in the channel between James and Decatur Island. Tom drops his jib and starts his motor outside the cove afraid to sail the last 500 feet to the dock. Meanwhile Mike has almost overtaken Tom and continues charging for the cove. Both boats are racing for the dock and Mike with all sails up is pulling ahead until with only 250 feet to go the wind in the cove dies. Tom cheerfully motors past Mike and takes the only free space left at the dock. Tom’s boat is completely tied up and the family has gone ashore by the time Mikes boat, sails hanging limp slowly ghosts up to Tom’s boat. Mind if I raft up to you tonight skipper, asks Mike, it seems there’s no room at the dock. Sure says Tom, if you don’t mind helping me take down my mast, someone left the halyard at the top, right next to where the antenna goes.
