Odalisque - July 18, 2004 Log

Log 2004 – July 18th

Sunday July 18, 2004 – “Fathers and Sons”
Crew: Matt, Jackson, Dimitri and Pavel

We arranged to pick up my friend Dimitri and his son Pavel at their building in Park Slope. They were running behind schedule so Jackson sat in the car and I worked at duct taping my side view mirror back to the door as we waited for them to return. A few days before I was coming back from a trip to Rockland County and crossing the Triborough, inexplicably, something fell from on high and demolished my side view mirror, shattering all the glass and leaving the rest hanging by a cable, and though shaken by the apparent explosion at my side, I felt lucky that the this chunk of bridge did not land a foot to the right and shatter my windshield sending me to oblivion. Consequently before heading out to Long Island and Stepping Stone, we stopped at an auto parts store and I found a mirror to tape in the empty space of a precariously held side view mount.

I had met Dimitri some years before at The Children’s House where our sons attended preschool. It turned out Dimitri and I had many mutual friends as he was also a video artist and even ran the Kitchen in it’s early years for Woody and Steina Vasulka. We had a nice talk on the drive, catching up, Dimitri told me of a documentary he had begun and was trying to find funding for. It turns out he was in touch with some people I knew and wanted some advice, in part about trouble shooting some special effects ideas. Coincidently the documentary is about John Paul Jones’s last years in Russia.

We arrived at Steppingstone in good time, it was a beautiful day, the sun was out and the wind was blowing about 6 to 12 knots and coming from west. John took us out in the launch and we prepared Odalisque, beginning with me going over the basics of what I might ask Dimitri to do, how to pull jib sheets and crank the winch. Interesting about these kinds of days for me is that they are the closest thing to sailing solo I’ve done, but still not alone. I checked the oil and the sea cock, tested the motor, we raised the main, cast off, set our jib and headed out by wind through the mooring field on a reach. I explained to Dimitri that I would rather show them parts of the Sound to the East but given our wind I decided that we would head west to the Throggs Neck bridge rather than run and then have to tack back. I thought it might be fun for the kids to travel under the bridge and touch the East River. Just happy to be aboard, all yielded to my suggestion. We stayed on a northern course well past Steppingstone lighthouse and turned west long before reaching City Island. Jackson and Pavel were very happy to see each other again, they laughed and spoke the whole way in the car driving out, and spent most of the time up at the bow lounging, talking and keeping watch on the lee side as we tacked. Jackson still tends to be lukewarm about sailing with me due to his tendency toward motion sickness and bringing a friend piques his interest. Coming with Dimitri and Pavel gives me the opportunity to catch up with an old friend.

I let the boys stay up front on the long tacks but made them come back to the cockpit when we came about. It was hard enough sailing the boat without Caleb on board, worrying about the boys or having to explain to them what to expect from the cockpit was too much. I tried to teach them as we went but they were more interested in their dialog than learning the language and concepts of sailing.

Approaching the Throggs Neck the wind died so I turned on the engine, but I left the jib out and here is where I went wrong. There was a barge coming up fast from behind us so I yielded the majority of the channel and headed closer to the bridge’s base at starboard than I would have preferred. The wind began to blow from the south backwinding our jib and at first it was not strong so I didn’t bother to move the foresail, relying on our motor to muscle through, and that’s where I really went wrong. As the wind got stronger we were being pushed closer and closer to the pilings at the base of the bridge. At issue was my feeling that there was no time to explain to Dimitri how to furl the jib, I had not shown him this yet, and I didn’t want to let go of the tiller in this situation, so with panic lapping at my heels I decided to head up and turn us around, forget the east river. But the back winded jib would not let us head up, the wind had become too strong, and there didn’t seem to be room for me to jibe, so I gunned the engine and after a tussle with the wind we cut through and came about. Here was one of those times when you stop wondering why we have so much more power with the Atomic 4 than is needed to attain hull speed. So stupid, so stupid, but unfortunately we seem to learn too often from mistakes, my hope is to make each mistake only once. The others on board were oblivious to the danger we were in, and to the seemingly life and death struggle that I just concluded, even if it was just a minute. But it was still a beautiful day and all is well that ends well so we begin our way back home with a revived wind.

At one point when I ask the boys to come back to the cockpit, Jackson, always thinking he knows best, was unresponsive which I found frustrating and I explained in very strong language, repeating again my story from the beginning of the sail, that I am the captain and I need them to listen to what I say and to act quickly to my instructions. At issue was the wind behind us and while running I didn’t want the boys running around the boat with the advent of an accidental jibe. Maybe I was being too cautious but these boys are not yet novice and I had my hands full. Eventually I had control of both Jackson and Pavel with us in the cockpit, we went wing on wing running back to Steppingstone lighthouse. And here began the seasickness.

It seems I can never make the trip short enough to get in before Jackson’s limit is reached. In part this is due to the long drive from Brooklyn to Kings Point, and in part my greediness for being on the water. Except now there are two boys complaining of nausea. It seems Jackson is not the only 8 year old with a time limit for the sea. I was prepared with my homeopathic pellets and doled out one for each boy, and then against my better judgment, another when they demanded it was not working. (I think I also administered a dose at the beginning of our journey.) Though Rachel Koenig, the acupuncturist who first suggested I try these, included nux vomica in the formula as well, I left out the nux as I found it put Jackson to sleep. Nux Vomica is also a great aid for those who battle insomnia from time to time. Yet it is now apparent that Cocculus Indicus alone still has a similar effect and within minutes both boys could not complain from the nausea as both were sleeping in the cockpit.
I have always been a doubter and I can’t help but try to align myself with those tirades you read from time to time from good scientists on the quackery of homeopathy. And yet here is another example of the result superceding the science. My first experience of this was when Jackson was a baby we had tried a famous Park Slope homeopath, Dr Talukdar. We were given a number of remedies for various purposes, one being for the night time cough Jackson was having. One pellet and Jackson would stop coughing, and you can’t say that at that age the effect was due to suggestion, he had no clue as to what effect we were going for, he was a baby.

So with Jackson and Pavel sleeping soundly we turned toward the mooring field at Steppingstone lighthouse. I explained to Dimitri how to furl the jib, which line to pull, and I brought Odalisque in to its mooring. Dimitri was a great help, we lowered the main, replaced the cover, tied up the tiller and cleaned the cockpit. We woke the boys and called John for the ride back. What a great day. I love being on the Sound and sharing this with my son and friends makes it even sweeter.

A note on roller furlings, I am not happy with our new furling and I wish we repaired our old Harkin instead of replacing it. I hate to complain and end on a sour note, but if I can take a moment to rant, it seems all of the replacements needed after last season’s damage were a step backwards. Our new jib, yet firm and not blown out, is miniature compared with the genoa that Murphy had on the boat when he sold it to us, it chatters and complains way too early and we can not head up nearly as much as we used to. I would trade it in a second for a full genoa, even if it were blown out with a noisy leach. As soon as I have some extra money I intend to buy yet another foresail. The bow pulpit I bought from Tartan parts was also miniature though it’s foot print was similar, and now the lifelines are slack, though I mounted the pulpit as far forward as possible and tightened the bolts as far as they go, clearly Tartan parts sold us the wrong part, and we had to wait an extremely long time for delivery shortening the beginning of our season – and Tartan Parts was unresponsive when I sent pictures of what the bow pulpit looked like before and after, asking how could it have changed? Might they have sent the wrong part? I doubt James Murphy changed the bow pulpit from the original stock pulpit. (As I was in no mood to change the bow pulpit again, I abandoned the case.) And of course now I am bitching about our brand new roller furling which just doesn’t work as well as our former one, no matter how ancient it was.

— Matthew Schlanger

“Hindsight is 20/20”

The repairs to the roller furling and the new jib I left to the sail maker since I had my hands full with varnishing all the brightwork. In retrospect I could have done things a little differently. I let myself get talked into buying a whole new roller furling system (Furlex, French, first clue, Metric, second clue) and placed the order for a 150 percent (for that is what I thought it was) genoa for a Tartan 27 and left the dimensions up to them. We had enough insurance money to cover these expenses and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

I now believe that our old genoa was a 183 percent and therefore larger than the nice new sail we have. I could have taken the tattered old genoa to the sail makers and asked them to replicate the new one from the dimensions of the old one. They might have laughed as the sail was in two pieces but we would have ended up with an equivalent sail to the one which was ruined. Since we have not been doing any racing I am less annoyed that our replacement jib is smaller than our old one. I believe that it is more difficult with the smaller jib to get a good balance between the main and jib and the new jib has to be tightened hard on its sheets to get an appropriate shape. The new (smaller) jib should also be more appropriate for big blows though as the boat heels slightly less than with that bigger sail. But for the mostly light summer airs that we usually sail in I agree with Matt that the old sail was a better fit. I too, would like to get another 183 percent genoa when the opportunity arises.

I do not fault the sail maker though. The sail they delivered is a marvel of modern materials technology and they made it at 150 percent as I had asked. I allowed myself to get talked into a new roller furling system instead of replacing 2 extensions of the old Harken setup we had. At the time it seemed like a good idea to farm out some of the work so we could get done sooner. Some lucky sailor at the Glen Cove marina was given our old setup and for less than $200 in materials had a nice, serviceable roller furling system for his boat. I only hope we do get good karma points for finding a new owner for this marvel of technology rather than cutting it to pieces and putting it in the dumpster.

I am not writing this to challenge anything Matthew has written in his log above or to defend any of my actions taken during our refitting. I am merely trying to present most of the facts as I know them and explain how the sail plan changes to our boat came about. In fact, Matthew does us a service to point out that things were different and possibly better before we made our repairs. The only thing I will concede is that while most of the repairs were my responsibility, I am not as familiar with keel boats and their apportionment as I would like you to believe. Learning how to repair, maintain and operate this boat is a much bigger challenge than my old 14’ sailboat. Every mistake that is made contains a lesson to be learned from, and hopefully not repeated. “Those who cannot learn from the past shall be condemned to repeat it.”

— Caleb Davison