The word around the WYTC cockpit on the previous evening was that most were planning to depart their slip in the morning and head for Beaufort/Cape Lookout. We would be pulling up the anchor and heading back to New Bern so that I could work on Monday (regardless of how much everyone tried to persuade us to change our plans). I simply told everyone to wave as they went by our anchorage in the morning.

We were up before 8AM, and had the dinghy stowed before 9:00. We were the first to motor out of Broad Creek, and there were no signs of masts popping up in our wake. By the time we were under sail and around Gum Thicket Shoal, we could hear the banter of our friends on the VHF, about an hour behind our wake.

We had sailed to Whortonsville on SW winds, perfect for getting from New Bern around Oriental. We were now returning to New Bern on the northerly winds which followed the passing cold front. One could not ask for a more perfect weather forecast, and it came to fruition in the form of some really great sailing conditions.

On the leg from Gum Thicket Shoal, past Oriental, all the way to Minnesott Beach, Prudence was finally ready to run wing-on-wing. We have the main secured with a preventer, but takes a bit of concentration to keep the direction of the wind over the stern at just the right angle to keep genoa full and the boat moving at about 5-6 knots. Each time Sheryl engages me in conversation, I lose my focus, the genoa flogs, and we lose speed. Therefore, Sheryl is largely delivering a monologue over this 3-hour period while I stare intently at the bow, compass, and the anemometer.

Once we pass the ferry lane at Minnesott, we are on a very broad reach. Our speed slowly declines from 5-6 knots to about 2 knots. When it drops to nearly 1 knot, I suggest to Sheryl that we try out our spinnaker. We have had this sail out of the bag exactly twice. Once in our apartment, and once while at dock. On neither occasion did we have room to open the entire sail, so we are still somewhat uncertain what it looks like.

Ours is an asymmetrical cruising spinnaker, which is flown much like the genoa, except for the fact that it is made of much lighter material and has about twice the area. In order to manage this much sail on deck, ours is contained inside a sock (Chutescoop). After digging the sail out of the port locker, we attach the head of the sail (and the top of the sock) to a halyard and raise it to the top of the mast. Then we attach the tack of the sail to the bow. We lead the sheet which attaches to the clew back to the cockpit winch, and are set and ready to go. I man the controlling line which will raise the sock, while Sheryl is in the cockpit steering the boat and ready to adjust the sheet.

Up goes the sock, and our big, beautiful spinnaker is revealed at last. It fills with air, and our speed climbs from 1.5 knots to 4.5 knots. Sheryl is taking photos, and I am marveling at the beauty and effectiveness of this big sail. To top it all, it was so easy to deploy, how cool!! We are happy and proud of ourselves both for figuring out how to fly this sail, and for choosing to apply it at such an appropriate time.

We were spending too much time basking in this glory and not enough time watching the skies and the water. Our calm, 4-knot apparent breeze off of the starboard quarter began to climb quickly to 6, then 8 knots. Sheryl suggested that I put my shoes on and be ready to lower the sock if the anemometer hit double-digits. Just as I was stepping onto the deck, Sheryl cried, "10,... no 12...,wait... 18 knots!!!" As the boat heeled over with the toe rail nearly in the water, I sank to the deck with the controlling line clutched in one hand and the other gripping the hand rail on the coach roof. As overpowered sailboats do, Prudence headed up into the wind. I shouted to Sheryl to follow suit and steer us into the wind so that I could pull the sock down. As soon as we got head-to-wind, the huge sail began flogging. The noise was horrendous, and prompted Sheryl to fall off the wind again. The spinnaker quickly re-filled, then went, "POP!!" It was as though someone had punctured a large, overfilled balloon. The hank which had held the tack to the bow of the boat had broken. The sail was now streaming like a huge ribbon along side the boat. From Sheryl's perspective in the cockpit, she was certain that she would be seeing me fly off the boat along with the sail, at any moment.

I remained on the boat, and the long, streaming sail actually made it easier to get the sock back down. Once I had the bottom of the sock in hand, it was like wrestling a big writhing snake, which actually did threaten to pull me off of the boat. I called for Sheryl to release the brake on the halyard, and I pulled the snake down onto the boat, where it rested lifelessly. Although the winds were still high, we were now under control, and I could take a moment and breathe.

After gathering the sail up into the sail bag, Sheryl and I spent some time discussing what had happened and what we had learned. We decided that it was a good thing that the hank at the tack had been the weak point of the system. We are fairly certain that no real damage was done to the sail, and we look forward to flying it again soon. Of course, next time we will do so on a day which is less prone to localized weather systems.

We motorsailed our way back to the slip and got Prudence squared away and ourselves cleaned up sufficiently to go to Pollocksville for a dinner invite at Bill & Susan's (former dockmates at Ensign Harbor). In attendance were Richard & Frances (also former dockmates). It was great to catch up with more WYTC colleagues after several months apart. In addition, the food was fantastic. Our departure brought a truly fantastic weekend to an end.

As we prepare to start a new week, we have a visitor coming all the way from Indiana. My mother will be staying at the hotel and getting an opportunity to see how we live here aboard Prudence, first hand. Stay tuned as I hope to provide some of the perspective of a very interested outside party on our little adventures.