The jinker in the doldrums.

Two evenings back we took a sail on the beautiful Monica Talbot, a 30 foot cutter rigged sailboat owned by friend of ours. The design was that of William Atkin and she is unlike the majority of the boats found around the yacht clubs of today. She is seakindly, deep and narrow, and very much capable of open ocean sailing...the kind of boat that should be required by law for Newfoundland water, and she is wooden. She is forgiving, a much needed attribute that I will report back on later in the month as Eric has left her for our use while he heads to Greenland to secure iceberg water on the Sikuk, a 180 foot iceberg harvesting vessel of Norwegian descent.

Now my actual sailing experience amounts to about 30 minutes of combined seatime spread over the last ten years or more spinkled with a healthy dose of reading and daydreaming. Every time I've stepped aboard a sailboat I have assumed the role of the jinker in the doldrums. Despite the often hounding winds of our coast I have incredibly acquire the rather Christlike penchant for calming them by simply stepping forward to assist in the rigging of the boat. Of course if I were to stand on the head of the wharf for days, or to decide upon taking any other type of boat out for an afternoon of fun the relentlessness of the wind would astound the most hardened transatlantic racer. Despite this I will soldier on refusing the role of Lee Ingleby's Hollom by simply staying away from cannonballs.

Last evening I was subjected to the rather complete teachings of the master in the finer points of raising the main and the importance of topping lifts in preserving the skullcaps of crew abaft. Throw in a little marine engineering and I feel ready to push off on my first adventure. I hope for wind, and sun, and maybe a master mariner or two to help in my journey, but barring that I'll still Take A Crack At It!