When sailing upwind, there is the well-known sailing concept of "apparent wind." The faster the wind comes toward you, the faster the boat sails (to a point), as the boat sails faster into the wind, the more quickly the wind passes over the sails. This makes the boat try to sail even faster yet, until the point is reached when the resistance of the wind is too much, and all that results is uncomfortable, and slower, sailing. This is known as "being overpowered." The solution is to have less sail up when the winds are too strong.
Also, since a sailboat cannot sail directly into the wind, it must zig-zag to get to an end location that is directly into the wind. In British Columbia, the Gulf Islands are laid out in such a way (long and skinny), that often where you want to be is exactly where the wind is coming from (or exactly where you just came from, if you happen to be sailing downwind at the time).
The process of making the boat zig or zag while traveling upwind is called "tacking." The boat turns about 90 degrees and the sails are moved from one side of the boat to the other. While sailboats look so serene out on the water, there is nothing serene about tacking in heavy winds; tacking can be an outright battle between wind, sail, skipper, and boat.
The process of tacking is, quite simply, amazing. It starts quietly enough by prepping the sheets to be released. Then the helm is turned and the upheaval begins. Beneath the water, the rudder directs the boat into a new direction. The bow turns and the sails begin to savagely flap as the wind howls through the process of flowing mainly over one side to switching to the other. The mast vibrates, then shakes ferociously. The jib flows over the front of the mast, the fabric of the sail making a zipping sound as it abrades against the metal. The boom pulsates until the force of the mainsail holds it steady to the opposite side of the boat. All the while, the teeth of the winches are ratcheting the jib sheet, tighter and tighter to the opposite side of the boat from where it had been only a few seconds earlier. The rope strains as it resists stretching, voicing its torment in low groans. Then, so quickly, all returns to the state of balance again, and the boat resumes being pulled through the water. The only difference is that it is now going 90 degrees in a different direction. The helmsman, having been quite occupied through the process, barely notices the sounds of the strains of physics that just took place.
From inside the cabin, however, the sounds of the rest of the boat are not so masked by the sound of the howling wind and briefly luffing sails. The first sound is the shout, "TACKING" made by the helmsman dutiful enough to alert the rest of the crew that all hell is going to break loose for a few seconds. It is from below decks that the vibration of the mast is then felt, the quaking and quivering. The sound of the jib sliding across the mast is carried directly down, through the mast, into the interior space. The ratcheting of the winches seems amplified through the hull. And then everything in the entire cabin moves. The stronger the wind, the greater the "heel," the more the boat is tipped on its side while sailing. Even well-stowed items tip from one side to the other while tacking. The dishes slide from being held against one side of their cabinet to the other. The tools and books do the same. And the cabinets themselves chime in, adjusting to new forces prove that this sturdy vessel gives in ways unseen, but certainly heard. The wood squeaks and groans. The vibration slows, the winch stops, and the boat builds back to its previous speed. The sound of the water against the hull picks up. The person below finds a new way to brace themselves against the opposite heel, and the sail continues, until the call is heard again, "TACKING!"~M
No comments:
Post a Comment