[Paddlewise] First time with a sail

G'Day,

It was the Old Sea Dog's sail. he had described it in the New South Wales
Sea Kayaker journal and later with more detail in Sea Kayaker. It was the
kind of sail which could be rigged and stowed away with a minimum of fuss
while coping with a choppy sea. A sail that placed no restrictions on
paddling or rolling, whether stowed away or in use.

The pressure to fit such a sail had become intense. Sharks were being
reported almost every week in Australia and careful investigation showed
that over the decades they had bumped into a kayak, a rowing skiff, an
olympic canoeist, and even a lawyer's boat insured with the NRMA; but none
had ever interfered with a kayak carrying a sail - especially not a sky blue
one:~)

Andre, is a most courteous man from Poland who makes kayak sails in his
spare time. He is a fine and meticulous craftsmen and probably the most
skilled kayak sail maker in NSW. He cut this one from three pieces, fitted a
batten and reinforcing tape and described the intricacies of the mast design
with details I would never have contemplated. Once we are engaged in
discussing kayaks it is not possible to stop. Andre lives in Surrey Hills in
a small house with just enough room in the lane at the back to set up the
boat. It was the first time this design had been fitted to a Pittarak whose
sloping deck and narrow bow imposed tricky constraints on the three stays
and halyard. It took two evenings to fit. And much serious thought and
discussion, with a committment that I should freely pass on the method to
any Pittarak owner who asked.

On the second evening, as the sail rig took shape in the back alley, an
emaciated, wiry, nut brown man cast a discerning eye over the work and
engaged in a long history of his time on prawn boats in Northern Queensland.
The poor fellow was a heroin addict and well known in the neighborhood.
Andre warned me that the contents of my car were probably at risk and
apologised for the man. But there was no need. The prawn fisherman told his
history well, it was worth listening.

On to Johno, who is a boat builder and we kayak together. He knows exactly
how to reinforce the boat so that the mast can pull in any direction without
cracking the deck. Johno once rescued me in the surf using a very strict
protocol that guaranteed our boats would not be scratched. We lift the boat
into his shed where he waits for a fine day then applies three layers of
woven fibreglass mat in a cruciform pattern under the universal joint which
holds the mast.

So comes the day. It has taken me all morning to fit lifting and steering
lines on the boats rudder and I have carefully selected a time when none of
my friends will be watching. So off to Clontarf with the sail neatly stowed
and over I go. The roll back up is blissfully normal. So now to rig the sail
and try again. I take it from under the bunjee, pull on one loop to lift the
mast and the boat is ready to fly - but first - over the boat is tipped
again. Under water the rigging has collapsed and the sail has part folded
towards the cockpit, I release the loop and roll. The only difference the
sail makes is the need to place the paddle so it doesn't catch in the
halyard. Now the sail is in the water at the side of the boat and is folded
up within a few seconds to be stowed under a bunjee on the deck.

At last the sail is rigged for real and I firmly resolve that despite the
paltry two knot wind I will not lift a paddle until reaching Balmoral. We
race along at half a knot. The navy divers are conducting an exercise and
look quizzical. Various paddlers and a fairy penguin overtake me but there
is definite progress - a micrometer would judge it well. Two hours later the
keel gently grazes Balmoral beach and its time for a triumphant cup of tea.

Three weeks pass and its Easter Sunday. The sky is dull and clouds are
scudding northward. A gentle grey mist of rain covers the sea between
Balmoral and Clontarf. I've spent almost an hour paddling two kilometers
into the wind so now its sweep and turn and pull on the halyard. The mast
lifts and straightaway the sail fills and pulls. At first the movement seems
imperceptible then I look back and see that within a few minutes the boat
has covered almost a quarter of the distance. As the fetch increases the
boat picks up, marker buoys waft by and the boat is overtaking my paddling
mates. We pass the point at Chinamans beach and theres the strange sensation
of keeping a boat stable in a confused following sea, without any paddling
strokes and no need to work at all. As my dear partner Beryl would say "I
could get used to this".

All the best, PeterO














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