Recess on Lake Michigan

Some sailing days are packed with purpose and progress, and a lot of play. That was the vibe for us on Lake Michigan this weekend.

Smooth Start, Sunny Skies

The day started strong. We’d slept well, had a good breakfast, and arrived at Burnham Harbor by 11:30 AM. Despite a tiny case of stage fright — our slip neighbor Darrell and his guests were lounging on the deck of the Carol Ann III as we cast off — we made a quick, clean departure, no drama.

Forecasts had called for very light winds, but once we were out on the lake, we found a steady southerly breeze around 7 knots. It was hot, the water a bit choppy, but overall perfect conditions to do something we’ve been meaning to tackle: heaving to on Red Sky.

Heaving To

We’ve struggled with this maneuver before. Heaving to is a tried-and-true way to stabilize a boat, especially in rough conditions. It’s a kind of emergency handbrake at sea. But modern hull designs aren’t always naturally suited to it, and Red Sky has been tricky for us.

We walked through the sequence:

• Tack across the wind
• Back the jib (so it’s pinned opposite)
• Turn the rudders hard over
• Let the mainsheet out

Normally, this should create a gently oscillating drift pattern, a kind of floating pause. But instead, the bow kept slipping through the wind and picking up speed. Something wasn’t sticking.

We wondered: what if we reefed the jib, then backed it? Would that work?

Red Sky has a furling jib; we were able to reduce its surface area easily, and try again. With a smaller jib backed and the rudders pegged, she finally held her ground. Success! We drifted into a soft stall. She was calm, stable, and nearly motionless. 

Once settled, we kicked off our shoes, dipped our feet over the edge, and munched on spicy Cheetos. Guys, this felt like recess! We were playing with the boat. Testing ideas. Failing, adjusting, and trying again. We had no destination! There was no pressure! Just the two of us, Red Sky, and the wide blue classroom of Lake Michigan. 

Autopilot? Or Balance?

Back underway, Kent noticed something: He’d forgotten to engage the autopilot, and Red Sky was holding course beautifully! She was balanced, steering herself! We played with minor sail tweaks to shift our heading, a useful skill if you ever lose your rudder control.

Man Overboard! (Kind Of)

Up ahead, a bright red blob bobbed on the waves. Was it one of our red fenders? Or maybe — more likely — a mylar balloon, which we sadly encounter all too often.

Either way, it was a great opportunity to practice our Crew Overboard drill. Kent turned us through the wind to approach it on the leeward side. We coasted gently in, and I snagged the balloon with our boat hook. A clean recovery and another successful drill, this time for the planet 🌎❤️👍

Dock it Like Butter

Heading back to the marina, I once again debated letting Kent dock us because Darrell and crew were still watching, and I didn’t want an audience for any mishaps.

But the wind was mild, and I knew the conditions were in my favor: a soft southern breeze and a wide open fairway. I walked through my internal checklist:

• Approach at 1 knot
• Use gentle throttle adjustments 
• Adjust for the wind as I turn from the fairway into the slip
• Give the Carol Ann III (and Darrell!) plenty of space
• Use gentle throttle adjustments 
• Slow is pro!

And once again, ya grrrl nailed it. Smooth like butter, precise, and effortless (not really – I was sweating it)! 😁

When we were tied off, Darrell leaned over with a smile and said, “What a soft touch.” I’m embarrassed to admit how much stock I put into his opinion. That might be the best sailing compliment I have ever received!

This is the kind of stuff that makes us feel like kids. Follow along as we keep practicing, playing, and learning out on Lake Michigan. And share your own sailing “aha” moments in the comments—I’d love to hear them!