A circumnavigation and dozens of coastal cruises gradually turned the new, 8-ounce Dacron polyster mainsail I purchased back in 2000 into a flimsy, dirty, patched, salt-encrusted quilt, finally forcing me to order a new mainsail from Rolly Tasker a few months ago.
My 1966 Cal 30 sloop Saltaire would normally carry a 6-ounce mainsail for coastal sailing, but an offshore environment of strong winds, salt spray and long hours of exposure to the sun required a tough beast, strong and durable enough to sustain many more years of abuse.
Using the old, 8-ounce cruising mainsail as a starting point, I drew up plans for a somewhat smaller sail and decided on 10-ounce fabric to ensure both durability and strength. Up to this point, the only 10-ounce sail on Saltaire had been the storm trysail, which I deployed once in a mean gale in the northern reaches of the Gulf of Suez.
Last weekend, I finally took the opportunity to break in the new main on a quick trip to Two Harbors, Catalina Island, only a 22-mile sail from Los Angeles Harbor. I had only a weak breeze going to the island, so I motored the entire way to the anchorage.
When I went to pack the main, it was still so stiff, even after removing the battens, that I used a long piece of braided line to bunch the sail up rather than using the usual sail ties. The stiff, amorphous crust looked like a long, white, narrow bolder extending aft from the mast. I draped the mainsail cover over the boulder and used another piece of line to keep that in place as well.
On the return trip Sunday afternoon, Saltaire shot forward under full sail on a beam reach, with winds reaching 18 knots, just the kind of stretching exercise the new mainsail needed. It was a hard beat up L.A. Harbor to the marina, and I worried about how to pack the main after entering her slip at the marina. Beyond pulling out the battens, what the heck else could I do to squeeze that big slab of wall paneling into a narrow mainsail cover?
I soon turned into the slip, secured the dock lines, killed the engine and stood staring in dismay at the chore staring back at me. When I pulled down the main, the cloth seemed a bit easier to handle, more like regular sail cloth than carpet. Keeping the battens in place, I started wrapping the sail in the long piece of line I had been using in place of gaskets.
As I worked my way from the tack to the clew, the sail seemed to settle in much more easily and tightly than before. Could this just be my imagination? How could this be possible? I pulled down hard on the line one last time and tied it off to the boom.
Now came the ultimate test: would the mainsail cover completely wrap around the boom? Again starting from the mast, I unfolded the mainsail cover, unrolling it all the way back to the clew. And then I started connecting the canvas twist clips, one by one, just waiting for one to put up a fight. To my amazement, even with the battens in place, I was able to secure the mainsail cover with no trouble at all.
So what had happened? Obviously, the short, hard sail back from Two Harbors had been the perfect opportunity to stretch out the new mainsail cloth to the point where it was pliable enough to pack easily. The next time you bend on a new sail, particularly a mainsail, give it a good beating in a stiff breeze for several hours, and it will yield to your hands like your favorite sweater. Happy sailing!
