by Ronnie Breeden
When we go sailing, we sail on a little 25-foot O'Day named Mischief. She weighs 4,000 pounds, she draws 2 feet 8 inches of water, her mast is 29 feet tall, her tail weighs 1,800 pounds and when under power she's pushed along at six knots by a 9.9 Johnson engine. She's a masthead sloop and in addition to the main sail we usually keep a 110 jib and a 180 Genoa on board in our sail inventory. Her interior accommodations boast a B berth, two quarter berths, a head, a small galley and she can carry 20 gallons in her water tank. She has two 12-volt deep cycle batteries on board for lights and cranking the engine, etc. We sail her on a little lake in east central Tennessee called Cherokee. This lake was formed by the Tennessee Valley Authority when they built Cherokee Dam. Captain's Log, 6/5-6, 2000
My helmsman, Terry Cupp and I arrived at German Creek boat dock and on board Mischief at 1700 hours. A gentle mist was falling and because we did not wish to get the sails wet we just threw off the dock lines and motored out. Terry and I both believed the rain would end soon and we could proceed under sail. Sure enough, in about 20 minutes things got a whole lot drier so I went forward to put up some sail. I went into the cabin, hauled out the 110 jib and started hanking it on the forestay while Terry untied the main sheet. I threw out the main sail cover and ties while Terry pointed her into the wind and I hauled up the main sail. Although the rain had stopped, there was still a force five wind blowing out of the southwest. Terry let the boat fall off to port. Then I raised the jib and he trimmed in the port jib sheet. I said a little prayer to Castor and Pollux and we took off.
About 30 minutes into our ride the rain began again but now it wasn't a sprinkle, it was a flood. We both camped under our ponchos, but with the wind gusting to 25 knots, we were both soaked in a matter of minutes. However, Mischief seemed to be having a good time peeking into the wind with the bone in her teeth. So Terry and I soon decided that we were having a good time, too. Tacking was fun too. Terry would put the helm over and as the bow went through the eye of the wind all hell would break loose in the sails. Then we'd trim in the sails on the other tack and be off again. After about three hours, beating into the wind started getting a little tiresome, so we started looking for a place to camp. We sailed into the lee of a little island and proceeded to anchor about 100 yards off shore. Before we took down the sails we let her shoot on up to the spot. Then I dropped the anchor and let out all 150 feet of the rope. With the wind blowing the way it was I knew we'd need all the rope we had. While we were looking around to see if the anchor was going to drag, there appeared an incredibly beautiful rainbow two points off the port bow. Zeus had sent his messenger to let us know that he had heard our prayer for a safe journey to Castor and Pollux.
After we were reasonably sure that the anchor was going to hold, we retired into the cabin for a little adult refreshment and to play some music. We tipped a couple of glasses to Bacchus. Terry got out his Martin acoustic guitar and I got out my Martin backpacker guitar to pick a few tunes. The rain soon began again. And we were playing Dylan's "She's Got Everything She Needs" with the rhythm of the rain on the coach roof. Around 0100 we both decided that the awake state had lost most of its charm of the day, so we prepared to batten down the hatches and crawl into our sleeping bags. Terry tied down the tiller and bungeed the swim ladder while I bungeed the halyards to the shrouds. I knew all about support, so they wouldn't be banging into the hull.
After we got the boat relatively quiet to the sound of rain drumming on the coach roof, we turned in for the night. The next morning I was awakened by Terry rummaging through the cabin. The rain had stopped but the wind was still up, and it was bringing the smell of Terry's world-famous campfire coffee through the companionway door and into my nose. I got up to shut off the anchor lights but quickly jumped back into my warm sleeping bag. The rain of the night before had brought the temperature down to 47 degrees, and we were both in shorts, T-shirts and sandals; however, we had sweatshirts on board. After donning the thickest ones, we breakfasted on coffee, boiled eggs, cereal and bananas. After breakfast our thoughts reluctantly turned toward heading back to the dock. We left the sails up the night before because they were too wet to put in the sail back. So all we had to do was crank up the motor and haul in the anchor.
I started hauling the boat up to the anchor while Terry attempted to start the engine. Anchor line could kill the battery to the point where the engine wouldn't start. So we had to put up the sails and sail out the stuck anchor. However, the trip back home wasn't going to be that big a problem, with the wind on our stern all the way. With the wind still gusting near 20 knots we would have a romp of a downhill run back to port. (Footnote: There are three points of sail. When the wind blows over the boat in the vicinity of the bow, the boat is on a bead or a close hold. When the wind blows over the boat in the vicinity of the beam or the side, she is on a reach. When the wind blows over the stern or the back of the boat, she is on a run.)
My biggest worry on the way home was how to get the boat back into the dock under sail. With no motor I thought it might get a little sticky. However, when we were only a quarter of a mile away from our docking area, with the aid of the crank rope Terry managed to get the engine fired up. To reduce windage, I took down the sails and Terry backed around without a hitch. We secured the dock lines, briefed the main and rolled up the jib. We topped up the water tank and hooked her back up to electricity. Then we put all our gear ashore and locked her down. Tied securely at the dock, she sits patiently waiting for our return and another romp up the lake.