Slow is Relative

I used to sail a 16' Hobie Cat. It was fast and fun. One night a front blew in and we sailed over 30 mph through the dark, listening as white caps tumbled slowly toward us out of the darkness. Plumes of water shot out 15' behind each pontoon. The swells were smooth and even, all coming from the same direction, and the boat raced along between them, slowly climbing over one crest and dropping into the next trough.

One of the fun parts of sailing a small catamaran is flying one pontoon. With enough wind, one hull lifts clear of the water and you have to be careful not to flip or let the other pontoon sink completely below the surface, which instantly slows you to a near stop and makes flipping that much more likely.

After my 2,500 mile ocean voyage aboard a 53' ketch, I sold my Hobie and replaced it with a Catalina 22. It sleeps five inside, has a double-burner stove and a hammock I stretch between the mast and the bow pulpit. I can plug my computer into the stereo and watch a movie. I've camped on it once and plan to spend a week on it at Bear Lake in August. I'm not sure I could flip it if I tried. It would take one heck of a wind.

On the other hand, it's hull speed is about 8 mph though I've had it up to 9 once. It's not nearly as fast and it doesn't slice through the waves the same way. I plan to sail it a few more times and then decide whether I want my quick, exciting boat back.

Yesterday I was invited to drive a 30' racing boat in a sailing race put on by the Great Salt Lake Yacht Club (the saltiest sailors in the world, as they say). It's sleek, low lines give it a handicap of 2-3 minutes per mile over my Catalina, but without much wind, I'm sure we never topped 3 knots.

But we were racing. We maneuvered around before the starting line, keeping a safe distance from other boats until the starting horn sounded. We then tacked upwind, rounded the mark, and hoisted the spinnaker as quickly as possible for a downwind run to the committee boat, then turned and made another mile loop before finishing...last.

But even though it was still slow sailing, it was fun! It was different. I discovered that the secret to enjoying slower boats is to race. Make it relative. It doesn't matter so much that you could almost swim faster toward the horizon at times, because you're not thinking about the horizon. You're thinking about the other boats just in front of you and the lines attached to sail heads, clews and spinnaker poles. You're thinking of the winches and handles right in front of you and the tiny tell tails flapping in the wind, telling you how to trim the sail for maximum speed.

What I should learn from all this is...to stop watching the horizon all the time. Look away from the big picture now and then and focus on what's right in front of me. Get caught up in that and enjoy it. The horizon, like a watched pot, comes faster when you're not looking.

The abundant construction barrels around my neighborhood look different to me now as I steer around them, careful not to touch them and incur a penalty.