Gusts, Waves, and a Docking to Remember

Out of the Breakwater

Inside Burnham Harbor, the water was glassy and calm. Kent took us out with his usual steadiness, but the moment we cleared the breakwater, the lake let us know who was boss. The forecast was correct. Gusty, swirly winds and the biggest seas we’ve ever faced—waves that knocked us around.

We reefed the main, unfurled the jib, and immediately knew we had more canvas than we wanted. After experimenting, we found success sailing with the jib alone. Kent wrestled with a stubborn lee helm, while each gust shoved us off the wind. It wasn’t ideal, but it was working.

Meanwhile, my scopolamine patch earned its stripes. No seasickness (a miracle!), though my mouth was dry as desert sand (a side-effect). At this point, I decided to pull the patch off. It had done its job.

Lessons in Heavy Weather

It wasn’t a long sail. The morning drive had already worn us down, as it can, and these conditions were tiring in a way steady winds never are. We practiced reefing and adjusting sail balance. It turned out to be a great day to learn big lessons in heavy weather sailing. 

The Docking Drama

Coming back into Burnham, conditions eased to 10 knots with gusts. Manageable. We talked through our docking plan: I’d bring us into the slip, Kent would snag the aft spring line that hangs above the dock ready for us to grab, cleat it, hop ashore, and work the rest of the lines. If I got blown sideways, the bow thruster would be my backup.

The approach went beautifully. Kent snagged the spring line like a pro, cleated it, and stepped ashore. Then… abject chaos. A gust shoved Red Sky toward our neighbor’s boat. (Thank goodness for fenders in exactly the right spot.) To avoid ramming the dock ahead, I kicked the engine into reverse then nudged the bow with the thruster to counter the wind gust. Perfect, right? Except I forgot to take the throttle out of reverse. That’s when everything unraveled.

I’ll spare you the full play-by-play (I’m still fazed), but let’s just say it was loud, messy, and stressful. In the end, nothing broke, no one swam, and as our slip neighbor likes to say: if you didn’t need to pull out the checkbook, it was a good docking.

Reflection

Heavy-weather sailing is its own classroom. We pushed against our comfort zone, stayed safe, and brought the boat home. It wasn’t graceful, but absolutely, it was a success.

One Last Lesson

Incidentally, the scopolamine patch deserves its own footnote! Saturday morning, I woke up with a mild migraine and, staring into the mirror, noticed my left pupil was as big as a plate. Dr. Google insisted I should seek medical care immediately. Dr. Kent, however, calmly pointed out that anisocoria (when one pupil dilates more than the other) plus a headache are known side effects of the patch. Noted.

I’ve never had side effects from scopolamine before, and I’m not gonna lie — it was a little intense. But hey, another lesson learned, and another story for the logbook.