Feast to Famine

Porter Bay, Vermont
44 13.83 N 073 19.03 W

Well, the week with the family is over. John and family drove home today and Libby and I sailed down here to the splendid solitude of Porter Bay. In terms of company and being surrounded by others, we went from feast to famine. It was a great week.

Tuesday, the last full day at the camp, the family decided that they wanted to see the fabled Valcour Island. Fine I said. Off we set in the morning to a gentle southerly breeze. The weather forecast called for more of the same.

Valcour worked its magic on the group and charmed everyone, adults and children alike. I hope that in years to come, Valcour may become a vacation destination for members of John's family.

When it was time to head back the trouble started. While we were one the island, the wind changed from mild to fresh to strong to fierce. Naturally, according to Murphy's law the wind was from the South and the camp was due south of us. We put up the jib, but not the main sail and headed out. The winds were too much for even that. We motored and sailed on one tack across the lake struggling to keep control and to prevent excessive heeling. On the return tack I reefed the jib 50%. Now we had only 1/4 of Tarwathie's normal sails flying. It was still too much. She pitched and rocked in the steep waves. The wind increased to a peak of 31 knots, just short of gale force. Most of the family began to feel queasy and they crowded into the cockpit rather than going below. I couldn't prevent excessive heel. and soon water was up over the rail and drenching those sitting on the leward side of the boat. Vicky, the smallest got completely dunked, thoroughly scared and started crying.

This brought out a conflict in instincts. As a cruising sailor, I thought we should return to the shelter of Valcour Island, anchor and sit it out until the weather became better, no matter how long that took. John, as the head of a family worried about kids getting to sleep in beds, and about today's scheduled departure from the camp and about a dinner date we had for the evening. He wanted to continue on no matter what. As captain, I could have ordered that we do it my way, but instead I let John win the argument.

To make a long story short, we did manage to return 10 miles to the camp after 5 hours of sailing and motoring flat out. In the final hour, the wind diminished making it much easier.

I'm sure that it was a day for all to remember for many years to come. The happiest part about it is that the strongest memories are not of the trauma of the storm but rather the charm of Valcour's nature.