Despite forecasts it was a classic South Cal day in Santa Monica Bay. Sun and a light wind promising to increase politely. It took a couple of seconds to consider the options: run wires to the new compass or cast off. Winter is upon us and life be short, so the couple seconds reflects our workaholic life. Really there was no question except relieving guilt. Besides last week a 5 minute job – just a fuse replacement – took 3 hours; that’s another story. And also Bill wanted to walk over to KHYC as he is interested in gnarly catamarans, again another story. So we motored the 7 minutes to KHYC.

Then we cast off heading into an unusually southerly wind. Outside we’re greeted by a horizon full of colorful spinnakers. A race says Bill. We’re not racers but like races. It’s easier to do well when you don’t have to run the same course or, as I’ve said many-a-time, they don’t know they’re in a race.

They’re fetching a down wind mark then will turn upwind. A “V” course so to speak. We’ll cross their “V”. We’ll be on port tack and must give way to them. But we do so anyways as a curtsy; and far enough away so as to not disturb their air. Tis just our way. We’re moving well, near hull speed most of the time. Threading through maybe a handful of converging courses. Just spice to a pleasurable sail.

I say ‘I think we’ll tack’. Bill says “ready”, then I say “helm’s alee”. Tis all that is needed for skipper and crew to make a graceful relaxed tack.

I find a lot of pleasure tacking. Too bad experience can’t be expressed in writing.

The traveler line is made ready to uncleat to be hauled to the other side. The jib sheet uncleated and held in one hand, then pick up the traveler line in the other. She starts turning – wait, wait, wait, there, the jib’s luffing, rapidly cast the jib sheet from winch, then haul in the traveler to just the correct position. Then grab the other jib sheet, wait until wind carries sail around, then haul away like mad. Grab winch handle, let helmsman tail the line and crank away until jib is trimmed properly. Helmsman changes sides, waits until she is just a bit lower than desired course, then as she accelerates, nudges up to desired course. Check tail tales and adjust traveler and jib. Adjust sail shape if not too lazy. Tidy up lines. Then its on the rail or cockpit coam or seat and back to whatever was interrupted by the tack. And of course a round of “good job”.

During a tack the wind feels less then more. The boat slows then accelerates. You go from sun to shade or visa versa. She heels to the other side. Lines are flying around. The main swings over. The jib madly luffs, flaps in landlubber lingo. You’re standing and swaying as the boat bobs and weaves with wave and wind. The action just feels good. You’ve accomplished something. You’re working with nature. It just feels good.

As Gordon Lightfoot said of sailing: “I like the mood I’m in”.

COLREGS is very precise. COLREGS is all about avoiding hard things like other boats. When the other boat’s bearing doesn’t change, COLREGS is in play. Between any two boats it is unambiguous. You’re either the stand-on or the give-way boat. As you probably guessed, on this tack COLREGS came into play.

The race fleet is beating upwind (of course) on a course we’ll cross. QT has a deck hugging, 150% jib; that is, a huge blind spot. We typically swing course by 20 or 30 degrees just to check for boats. I had just done that a minute or three earlier when both Bill and I just felt uneasy. So Bill peeked around that big jib and saw that a 40′ boat was close by making way nicely and converging rapidly.

We’re clearly the stand-on boat by the starboard tack rule. The stand-on boat is obligated to hold course and speed until the teeth of danger, then do whatever is necessary. The give-way boat endeavors to past astern with a large enough maneuver as to be obvious, in this case, to us.

Yikes! We immediately head up to starboard, also a rule.

Now I see him too clearly. He’s got even a bigger blind spot and we’re squarely in it. Bill says “He doesn’t see us”. I think, great, if we survive, we’ll get a new boat. He was that close and was growing larger and that bow was looking mighty wicked. Bill or I or both yell “starboard”, the traditional right-of-way warning. The danger signal should be sounded, where’s the damn horn.

As his deck comes into view, we see a guy running to their foredeck. He looks concerned. He’s hanging onto the stays. I’m too busy urging QT on to watch them. Whether they changed course or QT accelerated or QT blocked their wind I’ll never know, but 5 feet apart was close enough. I did hear someone shout to his mates “I thought you guys said you sailed before”. We got a good laugh from that. All-in-all something to talk about, but no big deal.

What does COLREGS say about this: “At all times maintain a visual look out”. Big sails are no excuse. A court might assign some blame because we didn’t sound danger signal.

A minute later, the mood is back. It’s a good day to sail. It’s been a great sail. Pass the cashews.