Sailing

The clouds were rolling in steadily, and their distorted reflections now danced inquisitively in the dark stillness of the water. I continued to row, moving my eyes periodically from the luffing sail above my head to the shriveled and distorted shape of the boat hull, as it gave way to the force I applied to the oarlocks and then returned to its proper form, as if I were pumping some huge red bellows for some distant furnace. My destination, formerly my point of origin, continued to loom in the distance behind me, reminding me each time I turned my head of just how fast 2 miles per hour really is. Looking aft I would encounter the compassionate stare of my wife, helpless in her desire to assist me in some way, but finding no help from either the entirely absent wind or the partially broken rear oar locks.

I was grateful, for the moment, for the sudden disappearance of trumpeting power boats passing us on either side. Each pass of these vessels added insult to helplessness in the form of a limp sail flapping back and forth as we bobbed in their powerful wake. Now even these sources of noise and unrest were gone and all that disturbed our slow progress back to shore were the gnats, silently landing on us in small but appreciable quantities. Every few oar strokes I would break my rhythm to inform the gnats of how I truly feel about them.

But all of this happened 4 hours later.... here is how it began:

The wind forecast claimed that the wind would pick up in the afternoon so we went out late (2pm). My plan was to sail from a water access area in South Amboy, so we drove to this spot. It turned out to be not quite as pictured - either it was low tide or something else, but there was no way to get from the boat ramp to the water. So we moved one block over to the East, at the end of Raritan Reach Rd. There is a small parking lot with a 200' walk to the beach. We lugged the already-assembled boat to the ocean, and I should have aborted the trip right there - the waves were large for our boat (2' at times), and the wind quite strong, blowing straight towards shore. I tried to rig the sail so that it was up until I rowed out and would drop later - but our attempts resulted in a completely different outcome:

After debating whether I should go out at all in the 3-5 mph winds (too little wind), I figured I'd go local and launched from Riva Avenue in East Brunswick. I rigged up some hose adapters for the inflator so I can let it do its thing while I assemble the sail kit - and the total unpacking and assembly only took a half hour (alone).

The wind was blowing (when it was blowing) steadily down river, thus I decided that I'd tack upwind first to see if I should dare to go downstream for fear of having to walk back. It was rather slow but doable, so I sailed downstream. To make a long story short - narrow, winding river, intermittent wind and lilies do not mix with sailing. Tacking isn't pleasant in such an environment: first you tack left, and the boat drifts 20 feet before catching a gust of wind and moving across in seconds and regaining barely as much ground. Then you tack right, and you do the same except you wind up on top of lily pods, effectively grounded. Then you row, and have to jump back to sailing position, only to repeat the whole ordeal. It took me 2 hours to go half a mile, back to the truck.

To add insult to a tiresome experience, I once again parked on the wrong side of a low bridge. Having discovered this, I decided to move to a different spot on the same river - but I didn't want to break everything down, so I just threw the boat on the truck (on the cab and bed), tied it down somewhat and drove over. Then it hit me: why not do that every time?

In my quest for large but protected bodies of water, I searched Google Maps and spied what seemed like convenient access to Shrewsbury River (Middletown, NJ) from Old Warf park. This was indeed a great location to launch from (the parking lot is very close to the water)... unfortunately I did not account for one small problem: a low bridge. We set out, tacked upwind towards the main body of water, and then encountered a 6' tall bridge (with the NJ Transit North Jersey Coast Line trains passing overhead).

The mast of the sailboat is at least 16' tall. There I was, struggling to remove the mast while the boat is helplessly drifting under the bridge. Live and learn. Ultimately, we sailed in intermittent 5-7mph winds and managed to hit maybe 3mph (according to the waterproof gps I brought.).

To Sail or not to Sail

After my earlier Kite Kayaking adventure, I started cautiously looking into sailing. The appeal of not having to paddle was undeniable - being able to just hang out and take in the environment, rather than having to work the entire way. Kite kayaking is fun, however tricky or even dangerous, but a single-line kite can only pull you downwind. Even if I attempted to use a control-line kite, I'd have no hands left to steer.

Decisions

The other option, of course, was a sailboat with a mast, which would allow me to sail into the wind. The problem is that I already pull a trailer, so I can't very well bring the RV and the sailboat... or can I? Then I discovered Sailboats To Go - a line of sailing kits for just about any inflatable craft there is. Typically the kit and boat pack small enough that they can be checked luggage.

I wanted to have a portable craft that wouldn't take too long to set up, and would not require a trailer or boat ramps. Eventually I settled on a deluxe kaboat kit (a 14' Kaboat with the 55 sq ft sail). The kaboat is fairly streamlined yet stable, and has a transom for a 10 hp motor (which I may wind up getting eventually). I got the larger leeboards, but skimped on the stabilizer floats, thinking that $150 is a bit much for buoys on sticks, and figured I'd make my own.

The boat and maiden voyage

The boat took over a month to arrive - all kaboat retailers were out of stock. By the time it arrived, I had everything ready for a maiden voyage on the 500 meter long lake in my town. Here is what things look like from outside and from the boat itself: