First 'Big' Water - Sailing with Henry

by Henry Geerken on 28 May 2008 There comes a time in every lake sailor’s life when wherever he is sailing becomes too small. Our 14’ Rhodes Bantam had been a good boat to learn how to sail on because it wasn’t very “forgiving.” If you let your mind wander you could get into trouble fast. We never won a race nor were we ever a contender for any award but I did stay married to my crew. (Diane).
 
With the arrival of our daughter Katie, we decided we needed a bigger boat. (Don’t we all?) While visiting relatives in Buffalo we bought a new 25’ Watkins sailboat. We had a place for us and Katie to sleep and it had an enclosed head with Porta-Potty so if we wanted to race we could and my crew (Diane and Katie) had a place to go if nature called. Compared to the Rhodes Bantam it was a palatial palace.
 

We spent many wonderful days and sleep-over nights on Otsego Lake but after a few years sailing the confines of the lake had become stale. We wanted “Big Water.” Club members had come back from cruising excursions on Lake Champlain and this sounded like it was made to order for us.
 
One July day we started to load the Watkins onto our 4 wheel trailer. The water in Otsego Lake was low and we backed the trailer as far into the water as tailgate and exhaust pipe would allow.  We were 24 inches short of where the bow hook should be when underway. We tried everything to get the boat to move those last few inches but nothing worked. We decided to go “as is,” and we loaded the bow of the boat with all our gear hoping to maintain trailer/boat equilibrium.
 
Everything went well until we hit the New York State Northway. As soon as we got up to 60 mph the trailer would start to fishtail. As soon as we slowed to 55 everything was fine. Many hours later when we got to the launch ramp at Willsboro Bay we found out that the water level was too low to launch. I turned to the crew (Diane and Katie) with a “help me please” look and the crew (Diane) produced her credit card and said, “We’ll go to the marina and have them hoist us in.” Viola, problem solved.
 
The next morning after being launched and establishing that the vessel was shipshape with all through-hull fittings closed, we set sail. The wind was out of the south and we were pushing through the water wing-on-wing. What a thrill! Willsboro Bay all by itself was larger than Otsego Lake. We rounded the point and with the Four Brothers Islands to starboard we eased onto Lake Champlain itself.
 

The wind blowing from the south had a very long fetch and in a 47 mile stretch had built up some sizable waves. The crew (Diane) suggested that we either shorten the mainsail or take it down completely because the boat was overpowered being pushed into the wave ahead causing the boat to slew. I recalled the section in “CHAPMAN’S” about pitch-poling and agreed. This was no easy fete. We could not come into the wind because the waves were now high enough to roll us on beam ends it such an attempt was to be made.
 
We took the main down and were now sailing under the jib alone and still flying along with both the windage of the boat and jib pushing us. As we would fall off a wave Katie went “Whee” because she thought it was a roller coaster ride. The waves were now high enough where we were surfing and when we were in a trough of a wave I could look over my shoulder into the middle of the following wave. In fact some of the waves were actually curling and breaking being blown by a wind that was now being rated as “hazardous to small craft”. As I sat in the stern with the tiller in a white-knuckle death grip I was wondering how big was a small craft when the crew (Diane) announced that she thought she was getting sea sick.
 
I suddenly became very religious. I could feel the awesome power of the waves as we surfed down them. I started to pray to everything I could remember from my days in Sunday school. We were headed to Sloop Cove on Valcour Island and through the mist laden sky I could see the faint outline of what looked like land.  The wind was now howling and the main halyard was starting to make a whistling noise. I was drenched with spray and starting to get very cold. I figured if we broached we would capsize for sure. Down in the cabin I heard only moans and “Whees” from the crew. (Diane and Katie)
 
I had the chart of that section of Lake Champlain tucked under my knees. I knew there was a buoyed reef on the southern tip of Valcour Island which I did not want to hit. Suddenly with a rush Valcour Island came out of the mist. We started to pass the mouth of Sloop Cove when I put the helm hard to starboard and slipped into the cove to port. The jib suddenly went limp. There was no sound. I thought for a minute that I had gone deaf. Then I realized that we had left all the energy of the wind and wave at the mouth of the cove – we were sheltered by tall pines and craggy rocks. We found an anchorage and tied the stern to a tree on shore.
 
 In time we were able to pry my hand from the tiller. As I sat in the stern sipping a healthy libation of demon rum the crew (Diane) came topside and announced that “We will stay in this sheltered cove until our food runs out and we can go home.”
 
A few days later the winds decreased and blew gently from the west and we departed Sloop Cove heading for Burton Island and thus  the start of many wonderful years on Lake Champlain, for us, our first “Big Water.” Unfortunately as time went by it also was the start of the notion that we needed a bigger boat.