Mission Possible

October 10, 2011

Just another Sunday sailing on the Bay… or was it? I was on a boat for only the second time, with a crew I had never met, doing a job I’ve never done before alone with light shifty winds. If that sounds like a Mission Impossible to you, well then you would be right. In fact that’s the name of the boat, a Merit 25 out of the Berkeley Yacht Club. For some unknown but kind of fun reason, when Merit 25′s were first brought to San Francisco Bay they started a trend to name the boats after old television shows. There’s Twilight Zone, Dr. Who, and in the slip right next to us, a new arrival, Star Trek.

It was foggy in San Francisco while I waited for my ride. By the time we got to the Berkeley marina the skies were clearing, but there wasn’t any wind. We spent the morning going over spinnaker procedures and the crew plan. Sandwiches at the club followed, and we jumped into our foulies for the race—the temperature was in the 70′s, but I was to be the bowgirl and therefore at greater risk of getting wet. Tacking out of the marina (no Dad, we didn’t use a motor) was exciting, especially with an enormous catamaran bearing down on us. One thing I have not gotten used to is being under sail with other boats all around us. I’m certainly not on Lake Charlevoix any more, where beautiful boats line the lake like Japanese dots, and rarely—if ever—make it out to sail.

The start was pretty mild, only a handful of boats were participating in that day’s race, and the line was just outside the harbor. Nevertheless, with fifteen seconds to the start, we got a little extra excitement when a competing boat decided to cross right in front of us and sit there. The good thing about the Merit 25 is that it can pivot like it’s on a pie twirler in a vaudeville show. We came around 360° and were right on the line when the gun went off. It took us a minute or so to get up any speed, but for some reason our competitors decided to go leeward along the shore, whereas we went up wind a ways before tacking towards the mark. It turned out to be a good idea and we made some headway in the race.

The sun was out, the winds were light, and all we really had to do was sit on the boat as still as possible. Only a handful of tacks were required in a half an hour of sailing. A few minutes before our final tack around the mark, my real job began. We brought the spinnaker up on deck, and I attached the bag to the lifelines on the port side, before attaching the sheets and halyard to the sail. The skipper called out “Prepare to come about!” and I stood up, sheltered by the mast and the stays, to help the jib across without throwing the chute into the water. I then moved to quickly raise the spinnaker pole, and the skipper yelled, “Set!” I got down to open the bag under the jib and put my hand on the chute to protect it from the wind. Then the trimmer, guy (a guy was working the guy), and pitwoman set the chute. As soon as it was safely out of the bag I stepped around the mast to help the pitwoman by jumping the halyard. The entire sequence took less than a minute. With the chute safely flying, the pitwoman release the jib halyard and I brought the sail down. All we had to do now was spinnaker back to the finish line in front of the club. I took up my new position as “good tush”—the skipper assures me it’s a real sailing term—and sat on the boom to hold it as far out as possible, acting as a human preventer, to prevent an accidental jibe.

We were the second boat at the mark, the only boat beating us a beautiful navy blue haul with a very low handicap called Jeanette. Our other competitors also with lower handicaps than ours rounded the mark several minutes behind and struggled to fill their chutes. It was the most un-race-like day we could ask for. The sun was shining, the Blue Angels were flying over the Bay. I took a minute to strip off my foulies, and not even needing my PFD, I relaxed on the boom, my back to the main sail, chatting with my crewmates, watching our competitors get left in our wake far behind us, and occasionally calling out “Puff on!” when we would get a little extra wind. And the puff did come on, by the time we passed the starting buoy, about to head into the harbor, we were doing six knots. Not to bad for a little boat on a light-wind day.

As the whistle marked our finish, we doused the chute with high-fives all around. Jeanette had come in before us, but not with enough time to spare against our handicap, giving us first place in the race. A job well done, we put away the boat and were treated to a pitcher of Full Sail Amber Ale by the skipper. Not the worst way to spend a Sunday on the Bay.

Filed under: California,Sailing

Tags: Berkeley, Merit 25, Mission Impossible, sailing, San Francisco Bay, Sports