I'm not sure you can properly call the teak capping on our 8 inch bulwarks the "rail," but we had enough wind and we were sailing sufficiently close hauled so that our bulwarks were submerged and the decks were under water on the leeward side. Holy cow. The poor dogs were terrified. Probably should have reefed, I really don't think these old barges are meant to be sailed like that. The major downside of this activity was that the spreaders managed to sag down again. We clearly need to have actual spreader hangers installed to keep them in position.
It was a nearly perfect day to sail to Still Pond. We anchored outside where we normally do. The prediction was for gusts into the thirties around sunset and boy howdy did that materialize. It was actually really comfortable and pleasant, but our dinner guests had a less than satisfactory experience. Their anchor dragged and by the time the boat next to us shouted the alarm (we weren't paying attention . . . for shame), their boat was drifting sideways onto the bow of a fifty foot motor yacht . . . Even in an extremely inebriated state the power boaters fended successfully and no damage occurred. They announced that they had defended the house and confessed the following: I wanted to whistle, but I realized that I don't know how. So I asked my wife to google how to whistle, and then I remembered that I could just yell. That put an end to the evening's festivities, which was fine, and we all settled in to watch the sunset and enjoy the breeze.
We also got to watch the most absurdly over-scaled speed boat I have ever seen pass behind a thirty foot sailboat.
The next day we lazed on the hook, had Prosecco and fruit and cheese, and then a lazy motor back to HPYC. I've committed to try to make the most of all weekends, so we are trying to spend more time on Sundays actually on the boat instead of rushing home. This means a bid of additional meal planning and packing but this weekend seemed to be a success.
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