Cap'n Tim

 Not Cap'n Ron.  Yet.  

Tim is a fellow from Hanoi, Vietnam who has spent a couple of years working on his boat at the dock in the marina.  Completely overhauled the engine and electrical systems.  Boat is a 40' Valiant; apparently a good cruising boat in its day - before it was cannibalized for anything removable.  So Tim got a cheap boat.  Good for him.  Lots of sweat equity gone into that boat, but the engine starts and runs fine.  And the refrigerator works.  And Tim is very proud of his boat.  There's only one problem:  Tim doesn't know how to sail.

But he ropes Ian and I into the inaugural cruise on his yet-unnamed boat.  (I seriously suggested 'Unsinkable II' but I don't think he got the pun.)  We'll just go down the creek, out into the bay and check out the engine on an extended run.  He's puttered around the mooring field but never taken it past the reefs before.

So off we go, all full of esprit de corps and buoyed by the confidence of having his dinghy towed behind us.  We get to about Waitui Marina and Tim breaks out the booze.  I look at Ian and say, "Isn't this normally done *after* we get back?"  Ian agrees, but Tim is not to be denied.  I did not choose wisely and wound up with some foul concoction called 'Joskes Brew'.  O'er the bounding main we go happily.  (I would have been happier without the Joskes Brew.)  We get a mile out and Tim says we should try fishing.

Tim goes below and finds his fishing spool and lets out a lure on a monofilament that I swear could be used to tow my car.  He wraps the line around a winch and lets it dangle.  "More beer?"  I'm still working on this Joskes swill, thanks.

Another mile, no fish.  There's a squall on the horizon and it looks like it has us in its sights.  I voice the opinion that we should probably turn back.  Ian agrees.  Tim wants to raise the sails.

"Have you ever raised the sails, Tim?"

"No."

Oh shit...

We talked him out of raising the main, thinking that the furling jib was a lower bar.  Ian and Tim went forward to sort out the lines.  The starboard jib sheet would up woven in the lifelines somehow; luckily we caught that before we unfurled.  The port side jib sheet came back to the mast, then went over the port side and disappeared. I still don't know where it was.  The furling line came straight back past the mast to one of the few remaining winches.  

I'm on the helm acting like an autopilot, choking down my Joskes.  Ian is trying to winch the furler open - it won't budge.  Ian goes forward and found there was some kind of steel cable attached to a locking mechanism on the furling drum that wouldn't let it turn.  Once he jimmied that, we had some success operating the furler.  Tim is on the bow turning the furling drum by hand.  I'm thinking - this will be a post in Crusier's Forum about how not to go sailing...

We had a beam reach from the port side so we didn't need to find the port side jib sheet.  We got the jib unfurled and then Tim shuts down the engine.  Ian and I look at each other with the unspoken hope that the engine would start again.  Tim is ecstatic - he's sailing!  We took video and pics.

Of course what was once unfurled has to be furled again.  Ian is back on the winch, working it with all his might.  Tim is on the bow turning the drum by hand.  I'm sipping the Joskes thinking that this could be the last alcoholic drink I ever have and what a shame that would be.  We do manage to furl the jib.  When Tim comes back to the cockpit, I suggest that now would be a good time to start the engine.  (Actually, the engine should have been started before the furling was underway...but who's quibbling?)  Much to our relief, it starts.  We're still dragging that towing cable of a fishing line and we suggest that it would be best to pull it in before it wraps around the prop.

We manage to get back up the creek to the dock and get squared away with no further drama.  Ian suggests that maybe Tim should look at the main since the wind had died down and was right on the bow anyway.  So fortified by a different beer, I leapt to the cabin top to help Tim raise...the...ugliest...dirty...patched up...cracked and holed...rag I had ever seen for a mainsail.  Ian felt the part that was intact and correctly opined that the sail cloth was still stiff.  We asked Tim if he had sail tape.  He didn't know what that was.  We got into a discussion of boom preventers and tried to describe one for Tim.  Not a lot of success.  We're going to look for some pictures.

But Cap'n Tim is at the dock with one sail under his belt and is a happy man.  And I got to be on the inaugural sail.  A good day - if it hadn't been for that damn Joskes.