I dunno if this qualifies as a tale...

[Riley Smith]

I love the sound of deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they fly by. There has been very little progress on the boat but heatwaves and grandchildren will do that. Jude is in his high chair at the moment and is examining the use of breakfast food in model architectural construction.  But I've been remembering...
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You can feel the force behind the sail in the sheet, as you play it on the centerboard cleat. The sheet line doesn't have much mechanical purchase and is rigged up to give you feedback, because this isn't some lead-bottomed yacht. Nope, the captain and crew is ballast and must act accordingly. The line runs from the boom end (which is a couple of feet PAST the transom in this catboat) to a block that slides laterally to and fro on a traveler, at the aft end. Thence to another block forward and downward to the cleat at the centerboard and ending in a regular horn cleat. In active conditions, I usually keep just a ½ turn on the horn cleat, with the line at hand, BECAUSE it lacks that lead bottom.

 All this, and a gaff up in the sky too!  Yeah, and if you can get the sail wrinkle free, it's a great day! (That's hard to do solo). A few wrinkles make little difference except in looks and your pride. You can feel the boat tugging at the reins in the wind, and it's also a great help to be able to FEEL it in very light air.

Once, a long time ago, Sonya and I were heading for the ramp, racing darkness and a dying wind after sailing around Deer Island in Biloxi. It was a beautiful sunset but the dying wind was a problem. So, the problem begat messing with the boat trim and apparent angles. Normally Sonya steers and I run the sail when we're together, and so I kept moving my weight around and tightening and loosening the sheet line until I found it.  The groove.
Luckily the whisper of wind was steady, and as I heeled the boat way over and sat in a certain place on the side deck, you could feel the speed get better. Of course, the helm must work in conjunction too. This helmswoman knows that if the foot of the sail starts flapping any at all, you must bear off. And so we made it on a whisper of wind; tired, hungry, and happy.

 Life don't get much better. Yep, fun times. So I don't do good with deadlines anymore. I've had enough of those to last a lifetime. Big deal. Like I said, I love that whooshing noise. And no, I'm not interested in frying in my own oil. The A/C is much better than the frying pan at the moment, and the inside of the shop can get well over 100F unless it's at night. Long ago I'd go nocturnal in this hell to escape the laser in the sky. I've finally caught a cloud here on Wolf Ridge and have rolled the boat out and stepped the mast. Then inside to cool for a bit.

Summer in Dixie. I just survive.