It was a beautiful Saturday evening, July 11, 2009, and my 1st mate Bonita had abandoned ship to go play cards, so I was on my own. I checked the trees in our yard and there was a nice breeze blowing so I decided to take the Lorelei for a sail. After fastening my life jacket onto my bicycle, I headed out to Fanshawe Lake. On arriving, I noticed that the wind had picked up a bit and was coming straight down the lake from the north. Looked like perfect conditions to me and I wondered why I was the only one out to the sailing club.
Soon I had the mainsail and Genoa up and was happily gybing across the lake. My GPS indicated that I was moving at 5.5 knots which was very fast for our Siren 17. Suddenly, the wind shifted, and my beautifully trimmed sails were flapping wildly in the breeze. I came about and put her bow into the wind to try to get things under control, but the wind had increased so much and was so erratic that everything I did seemed to make things worse. The boat was heeled over so much that I was sure my first capsize was imminent. I knew I should reduce the sail area by furling the Genny, but I was too far away from the line we use to do this, so I had to just let the sail flap. The noise was deafening, and I thought it might flap itself apart. I was starting to get a bit worried since I was alone out there.
The sailing gods must have a soft spot for novices like me because after an eternity of this mayhem I managed to get her into the lee of the land mass that protects the sailing club harbour. I had had enough excitement, so I headed back to the dock to call it a day.
After stowing the sails, I hooked up the small rowboat we use as a tender and began towing the Lorelei out to our mooring buoy. The closer I got to the buoy, the harder the wind blew, and rowing was getting very tricky.
Then, as if I hadn’t had enough fun already, I noticed that one of the other boats had broken away from its mooring and was being pushed by the wind out into the lake. Since it was about the same size as my Siren and was close by, I determined that I could save it and grabbed its loose painter line and tied it to the rear of the rowboat. Now I’m feverishly rowing like a madman, towing two sailboats and fighting a 20-knot offshore wind. I was sure I’d soon be on the far side of the lake up on the rocks.
Again, the sailing gods took pity and I found myself and my three boats in the lee area but at the wrong end of the harbour. I grabbed the nearest unused buoy and tied the rogue sailboat to it, hoping that I had used the correct knot and its escape effort would not be repeated after I left.
Using the last of my available rowing power, I then towed the Lorelei to its mooring and returned the tender to shore. As I crawled up the 45 steps from the dock to the parking lot, I noticed that the wind had died down to a more reasonable level. Maybe I should go back and try again. ……maybe not.
