Ocean Sails

For the most part, we didn't suffer much damage from this first passage. We did, however, damage both the headsail and main. When we were surprised by a squall and broached, our genoa luffed violently, separating the sunbrella from the sail (sunbrella is a sail cover stitched into the sail - when the sail is stowed by wrapping it around the forestay, the fabric cover protects it from the sun). The sail wasn't damaged, but the cover needs to be reattached before it worsens.

We tore the mainsail in two places along the luff. The first tear happened when the sail caught on a tack reef hook while being raised. The second tear was from overtightening a reef. It's a single-line reefing system, and I don't think the kinks are worked out. In order to get the leech tight enough, we accidentally reefed the tack below the mast.

Fortunately, there's a sail loft within sight of our slip. I called Ocean Sails first thing in the morning and spoke with Paul. Paul was pretty busy, he was getting a lot of business from the weather we've had, but he said he would see what he could do to get us going in time for the rally.

View from atop the mast of St. George's Harbor. Ocean Sails is the orange building on the right.

We folded up the main and genny, dropped them in the dinghy, and Wiley motored over while Kelly and I walked. The sails filled the dinghy, there was only room for one.

The sail loft is really cool. It's this beautiful old stucco building with polished wood floors, a high ceiling, and a lot of floor space. There are a couple of pits where sailmakers can stand and be working at the level of the floor. The bay window overlooks the harbor, through which a steady breeze of ocean air blows.

Here they're working on our genoa. The navy border is the sailcover, it's the only surface exposed when the sail is furled. Our main is to the right, rolled up like a tortilla.

They keep a parrot, who picked up my name from something Kelly had said, and called me out. We chatted a bit, but it devolved into him mimicing dog barks and meows, and me idiotically listing all the things parrots are supposed to say after I was no longer amused by pet sounds.

I get it. You sound like a dog. Clever.

Hopefully, the sails will be ready to go before we are. There's a low pressure system moving in, and we will have similar heavy winds to the first part of our trip if we don't leave early this week. We'll be prepared to deal with that weather if it occurs, but it gets uncomfortable pitching in heavy seas day after day. Waiting out the front isn't a great option, as it will be followed by very calm winds. We'd rather go uncomfortably fast than comfortably dead in the water (not literal - sailing expression meaning insufficient winds to move the boat).