Main sail fully raised! Really Sailing! ...The motor is sinking

There was a small craft advisory on Lake Michigan on Labor Day, with waves up to seven feet. Because of this, when I met my dad to take the sailboat out, we decided it was best to go to Paw Paw Lake in Coloma instead of “The Big Lake.” Still wind gusts were expected to be near 20 mph. 

I have a lot of history at Paw Paw Lake. It’s where I first learned to Scuba Dive at age 14 and also where my High School Sailing Team practiced during the weeknights in the school year. I remembered as we drove out there and although the weather wasn’t ideal, I remembered how in High School we would sail in pretty rough waves and 40 degree weather, the winds high. Labor Day wasn’t that bad, but it reminded me that although Paw Paw is a pretty small, you can flip a boat if you do something wrong, or if a storm blows in.  

Finding the boat launch and rigging the boat were both more time consuming than it should have been. We missed the launch twice after getting bad directions from bikers, and when I started to rig the boat I realized the main sail line came out of the boom after the last sailing trip. We had to re-feed it back though the mast and that took a lot of energy. By the time I was ready to raise the mast, it would be dark in a few hours.

I haven’t written about how big the mast of a CL-16 is. It’s over 22 feet and is mostly solid steel weighing over a hundred pounds. What I have to do is lift this while in the boat from it resting on the ground to standing it straight up and putting it in a locked position in a small hole. After putting it into place (I’m at a loss for the technical names of everything right now for everything) you have to move a large bolt through it. If I wasn’t as strong as I am, there is no way it would be possible to rig the boat

The boat launch at Paw Paw Lake is in a small channel that a row of homes are built right by. These houses and trees mean that the wind here is pretty weak. Also on the way out to middle of the lake is a series of docks with boats tied to them. After my experience almost crushing the boat on the rocks in the St. Joseph River last time with the sail raised, we planned driving the boat out with the trolling motor and raising the sails when we were in open water. We got moving pretty good on the small electric motor with me skippering and we raised the jib sail.

The wind hit us as we took a turn around a small peninsula and as I tried to trim the sheet I realized that I fed the line through the sheet incorrectly. Dad was able to fix this before we crashed into a dock, and with his help and calmness (as compared to my brother who may have screamed about us being about ready to die) I was able get us back towards the center of the lake through a combination of motor and using the job.

Dad took over the tiller and faced the boat the wind so the job wouldn’t push us back to shore. I went to the front of the boat and went to work to raise the mainsail. It took me a moment because in our rush and also the slight disorganization of the boat some of the lines were tangled and the sail clumped together. After about 5 minutes I was able to raise the sail and thought I had to boom in place when the jury rigged bolt came undone. The sail was half raised so luckily it was still under control. Still, I had to lower the sail and try to attach the boom to the mast.

It took all my upper body strength to get the boom re-attached in the wind and on the waves. It’s a hard process to explain, but basically it’s like how it’s easy to thread a needle on land, but hard on a boat. Now imagine threading a needle that weighed 50 pounds and then tightening down a bolt as soon as you get it right through the hole.

The sail was half raised during this time and Dad steered. It’s ironic I didn’t realize that we were finally sailing by the wind alone. Dad was smiling though.

Finally it latched into to place and I raised the mainsail as high as it would go to take pressure of the bolt. I tightened it and sat down as we headed at a good clip towards the end of the lake. We were probably doing about 12 knots or more.

(Yes I just had to look up how fast a knot is, just FYI)

I sat down and looked up at the sail, amazed we were really going. Dad looked completely relaxed at the tiller. I adjusted job and we kept a steady pace for about five minutes. We didn’t talk much, but at one point I yelled over the wind.

“We’re really doing it!”

It was amazing to me, because with all the setbacks, part of me doubted that it was really going to work, that I was really going to be able to sail. Maybe that’s an analogy for life or finally graduating college. But to be honest that would be stretching thing a bit, and I’m not in that type of comparison  seeking mood right now.

When it came time to tack, Dad brought the boat to what I believe is called a close hull and we got a moving as fast as comfort possible. He then pushed off on the tiller and brought the boat into the wind.

The weather and trees on the coastline made the wind seem to change and we had a hard time getting the boat around the needed point.  I pulled the job over and we sat in the water like a dead duck until, with a little help from the motor, we straightened ourselves around.

We took off back towards the harbor again and sailed. I watched the shoreline as the boat sailed through the water. Once waves, from a nearby speed boat thumped into the hull and although it made a hollow thud, no water got into the boat.

On dad’s last hard turn he hit the electronic motors and it came loose a bit. We didn’t think about it much and tightened it back down as I moved to the stern of Pilar and started skippering the boat.

Dad though it was a good idea to get too far west side of  the lake, that way when we decided to go in we could ride the wind far into the channel and not have to worry about docks. I was starting to get the hang of things so we decided to tack going up wind.

I pulled the sails in tight and leaned on the port side so we were going as fast as we could. Quickly I started to tack by pushing the tiller away. I ducked and the boom went over my head. You have to duck, but not too much in a boat Pillar’s size.

I shot back up when I heard a clank from behind me and to my dismay (horror maybe?) I saw the motor sinking into the lake. I fought the urge to jump in after it.

Dad hadn’t noticed and was telling me good job when I broke the news that the motor had sunk.

“Like really sunk?” he said.

“Yea, pretty much. It must be at the bottom of the lake now.”

“Well we were going to get a bigger one anyway,” he said with a grin.

I forced a smile myself. “Looks like we’re going in than huh?” I said. 

He smiled slightly, I knew he upset that we lost the motor; but at the same time glad we had finally got hang of boat. It worked out that we got the hang of the boat right when needed to.

We were on the west side of the lake so we were able to ride the wind all the way back to the channel. The wind changed slightly so we were able to open the sails and ride with the air to our back.

Dad lowered the sails when we got to the channel the wind died, and he took out the oar we got in case of emergency and started rowing. I skippered while he rowed until the wind picked up and we almost ran into a dock; with the sails down the wind still moved us eastward in the water.

I grabbed the paddle and rowed hard, we went faster than with the motor and were able to get in pretty quickly. Rheila was reading on a blanket when as I got out of the boat and waded in the water. She came walking towards me a smile and she took a picture of dad and me. It was a good day to raise the sail, even if we lost the motor.