The latest about our local Accidental Sailor
A lot has happened since I first wrote about the Accidental Sailor last fall. Shannon Runquist, local artist, wife and mother of two who went to a charity auction to bid on a sweetgrass basket and left as the proud owner of a Pearson 26 one-design sailboat, has been kind to include me in her initiation into sailboat ownership.
With the help of Ryan Hamm, former commodore of CORA who has lots of racing and boat ownership experience, we have guided Shannon and her ownership partners Kevin LePrince and Alicia Gregory through the joys and hazards of boat ownership. I refer to them now as The Racing Syndicate. Shannon, Alicia and Kevin are intent on racing the boat, which they named Outside the Lines to reflect Shannon's and Kevin's profession as artists. I've taken them out on a few training sails, and they soak up every bit of information with enthusiasm. They've outfitted the boat with some of the necessary small items: a handheld VHF radio, air horn, extra line, GPS — all little stuff. Now they are prepared for the big stuff — a new set of sails and a bottom painting. The current sails are old and soft as bedsheets.
Although The Racing Syndicate will be competing in CORA's D Fleet, the developmental fleet for the slowest boats, gaining half a knot of speed in a 90-minute race means the difference between finishing with the fleet and watching them from a mile or so away. "New sails can at least give you that extra half a knot," I told The Syndicate. "But don't listen to me — it's not my money," I insisted. "We're getting new sails," Shannon responded emphatically, "and a bottom job. Let's do it."
On the first practice sail with Alicia and Shannon late one February afternoon after work, the sun was hanging low over the Ashley River, the breeze was light, and the sky was brilliant. We motored out of Charleston Harbor Resort and Marina, raised the sails, and I told them to prepare for one of the best moments on the water — when you shut off the motor, sheet in the sails, the wind takes over, the boat stops shaking, and there's peace. The sailboat heeled over slightly, and I got the butterflies in my stomach that I unashamedly admit to getting every time I do this. "I'm loving this," Alicia said. Ditto Shannon. Kevin is hooked now, too.
Daylight saving time means we can practice any weekday after work, so we made time to practice Wednesday evening. The crew consisted of Kevin, his friend Carol Cebulka, and Elin Cate, one of my crewmates from last spring's Charleston to Bermuda Race. We made an easy loop around Castle Pinckney, practice a few tacks and a gybe, and were on an easy reach back to Patriot's Point when we saw an outbound container ship making the turn from the Wando to exit the harbor. "Let's stay well clear of the channel," I said. And that we did — a little too well, in fact, and ran aground just outside the channel near marker G31. Skipper error. Mea culpa. My first grounding in the harbor since I started sailing keelboats. The last time Elin Cate was on a sailboat with me, we had trouble reaching Bermuda. I suspect she might never want to sail with me again. Time will tell.
Fortunately, the tide was coming in fast and we were off the mud in about half an hour. It was a great opportunity to watch the lights on the peninsula come on and start to twinkle. There are worse fates in life.
There may be a general decline in the number of new sailors around Charleston, but I know three new sailors whose enthusiasm and wonderment might just surpass that of some of Charleston's championship sailors. They may not win for a while, but they will love every minute spent under sail. As a sailing writer, I have witnessed everything from a local sailor winning a world championship to these brand new enthusiasts learning bow from stern. To me, both ends of the spectrum are equally enjoyable.
Reach Will Haynie at willh@thepickledish.com.
