Back at the beginning
I rapped my ring against Aspara's hull, hoping to magnify its sound and attract the attention of a pod of a dozen dolphins several hundred yards off our bow. Sure enough, a few seconds later, they were breaking the sea's surface just five feet off our beam, so near I could tell one from another by their markings. Dolphins are curious creatures, but they also are hunters. And when it was obvious we had nothing to feed them, they went on their way. Still, it was a magical five minutes while they swam around and under our boat. This particular January day, I was sailing on Tampa Bay out of Apollo Beach with my friends Kathy and her brother Chuck in Chuck's 32-foot Roughwater sailboat. This sailboat (only 70 were built, in Taiwan) is a narrow-beamed, strongly built blue water cruiser with lots of teak. More than one boater commented on its attractive, classic lines as we sailed by.
This was back in 1998. I had arrived from Canada to take a live-aboard sailing course in St. Petersburg. There was a good reason for learning advanced sailing on Tampa Bay as opposed to a similar course in Canada: most of the water in Canada is too solid to sail on in December!
The course was conducted on board a four-cabin, 46-foot Hunter sailboat which, as classrooms go, is pretty pleasant. My fellow students were Mel and Susan from Wisconsin. Our ages ranged from 47 (me) to 64 (Mel) and experience from limited (Susan) to more than 50 years (Mel). Rick Meyer, our instructor, was a "Magnum, P.I." look-alike with a great sense of humor and limitless patience. Considering the Hunter was nearly twice the length of any boat I had ever sailed, Rick's patience indeed was a virtue.
The goal of this course is to teach students in the six-day course how to competently sail a large cruising sailboat. Boats of this type are available for charter at several locations on Tampa Bay and throughout the Caribbean, making the course attractive to many of us who boat on the Great Lakes and wish to charter down south in the winter. Others, such as Mel and Sue, are moving up to a larger boat and take the course to increase their ability and confidence. Charter firms look at this type of training as qualifying you to charter one of their vessels without the need for an onboard captain.
Mornings consisted of lessons and tests on sailing, safety, boat maintenance, navigation and other skills involved in cruising aboard a large charter-style sailboat. We learned basics such as checking the raw water strainer and engine oil, and far more complex skills such as man overboard drills, or how to turn the vessel within just over its own length using a back and fill method.
The liveaboard cruising course is the highest level you can take using your sailing experience to qualify you – more on that later. During the course, you are tested for the US Sailing's Basic Keelboat and Basic Cruising Certification.
During afternoons we sailed to various locations on Tampa Bay and the nearby Gulf of Mexico to hone our skills. We learned sail trim, boat handling under sail and power, anchoring and the ever-challenging docking. Take it from me, if your own vessel is a smaller one, handling a large, very expensive sailboat in a crowded marina is a challenge.
We all spent turns botching our approaches with Rick coaching us until we got it right (see patience above). Best of all, no gel coat was lost during our attempts although the nerves of the folks in the boat beside our slip were doubtless rubbed raw.
Mealtimes were generally onboard with everyone lending a hand. The galley was well stocked and, since Mel was somewhat of an amateur chef, we ate quite well. And, of course, we swapped tales and discussed the day's experiences over sundowners in whatever quiet bay we had anchored out in.
Susan's experience with sailing was actually quite limited, so much so that she was frightened by the boat's heeling in a 10 knot breeze. Rick explained to her that this was normal for a keelboat, that it was nothing to be afraid of and that she would simply have to get used to it. He then kept her at the helm, patiently coaching her until she relaxed her white knuckled grip.
A couple of days later, while drinking coffee below, the three of us watched her smiling as she competently helmed the boat without assistance in a brisk following breeze – smiling to herself in pleasure at her achievement, not knowing we were watching. It was a pretty special moment for all of us actually.
(originally published in the Tampa Tribune)
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