Other than recent history
, the last time I sailed was in 2002 -- I was 12 then, not to mention I was in a tiny 5 foot bucket with a sail on it. Earlier this year, my girlfriend at the time, my good buddy and myself took my Cal
31 out. My ego has a nice tendency to get the best of me at times, so I declined professional over sight from one of the gentlemen on shore. Bad move.
After some technical difficulty (definatly not human error) with the sliders and track on the main, we were on our way to make port. A near collision
with a Columbia
40~ on the way in shook me up a bit (definatly human error) but I tried
to keep my nerve. As I made the turn to slip her stern in first, I gunned it a bit more than necessary and almost hit the Police boat moored across the fairway. Throwing it in reverse, I suddenly realize that the prop walk is taking me to a floating steel
box that's a couple slips away from my own. After a small and loud profane phrase, his anchor
mounts my stern pulpit as I put her in what I thought was neutral, but over did it just a bit.
So now I'm trying to unhook the anchor
, completely unaware of the fact that I'm trying to tow this guy out of his slip by his anchor while he's tied up to the dock
, my ex is freaking out, my buddy has no idea what to do, the friggin' cops are losing it, and the marina turned into a gopher field as heads one by one popped out of the various companionways. One of the Police Officers collects himself enough to shout that I'm in gear
. I take her out of it, remove the anchor, and I throw the bow in my slip -- and of course, I accidentally attemped to turn D-Dock into a boat ramp
as I blasted into the side of it.
Damn, I need a cigerette just by telling that story.