Sailing on Morrigan

What an incredible adventure I had, thanks to Captain Tim and his sloop, the Morrigan. She's named for an Irish Goddess and the figurehead is carved in her likeness. When it isn't gracing her prow, it hangs in Tim's living room. It must give him such pleasurable memories to see it there. I think Tim feels the same way about sailing as I do about riding my bike. It teeters somewhere between way of life and obsession. J and I considered riding the bike there, but since we had more to carry than I could pack on the bike, we took the Vue and arrived in Michigan City about 8:30 PM. I thought it would be too late to go out, but Tim motored out of the harbor so we could watch the moon rise over the lake. Bless his heart, it was incredible and the photos just don't do it justice. J and I even climbed to the foredeck to lie on our backs and do some star gazing, but I quickly learned not to look at the tip of the mast against the night sky since that brought on vertigo.

Saturday morning J and I woke early after an uncomfortable night sleeping in my Vue.I still get grouchy thinking about how he woke me up to tell me I was snoring, ummmm that's what you do after you finally manage to fall asleep! We took a little walk down along the marina to look at all the boats and watch the ducks go bottoms up, and then when everyone was awake we set off to find a breakfast restaurant. With our bellies nicely full, Tim showed us the charts of the southern basin of the lake and where we would be sailing. The conditions couldn't have been more perfect with 1-2 ft. waves and beautiful sunshine. Tim's friend Jules shoved off for home, she'd been staying with Tim on the boat for the last week and since the marina had no water due to a leak, it couldn't have been very comfortable having to hike down the road to the McDonalds each time she needed a restroom. Still she seemed to be reluctant to leave behind the brief respite from her daily life.

We motored out of the harbor while Tim gave us a crash course in sailing. I learned that the jib is the sail which is usually smaller in front and it's possible to sail with only the jib, but once we got out of the harbor I helped Tim put up the main while J manned the tiller. Tim has done this so many times that it's second nature to him, but it was all new to J and I. We both managed to get barked at sharply once, and when Captain Tim barks, it gets your attention fully. Tim has spent months preparing for this trip, maintaining the boat, and purchasing and organizing the tools and supplies. After he treats some more friends to their first sailboat experience, he'll be heading out solo. I wish I had taken more pictures of the below decks, the galley was so cute with a little spindled wall shelf all the way around to hold necessaries and even a new little fairy mascot, Elle. A brass hurricane lamp shined within a inch of its life swung from it's pivot on the wall, and to the left an electronic depth gauge was mounted in the pilot's line of sight through the hatch. Just between the forward berth and the galley was the head. I even received instructions for that, so I wouldn't get any surprise bloosh-ing (trust me, you don't want to know). The galley where I prepared our lunchtime sandwiches contained a tiny sink and cutting board tucked in the corner along with an alcohol stove. After lunch Tim checked the GPS for our coordinates so that we'd be able to pinpoint exactly how far north we sailed and then said it was time to come about. We had no problems with that and then Tim showed us how to heel to, and said that we could go swimming if we liked. He threw out a line to grab if the boat was drifting faster than we could swim. The water was shockingly cold and being out there illustrated just how deadly it would be to fall off the boat while under sail. Even heeled to, the boat was drifting almost faster than I could swim, and at these temps it wouldn't be long before you'd be overcome with hypothermia. If you were sailing by yourself as Tim plans to do, or if no one noticed you fall overboard, there's no question that it could be your last mistake. Or if J as a novice sailor had made a mistake and backwinded the sails, it could have resulted in a capsize. But of course J quickly masters any new task and it was smooth sailing all the way back. We hit a top speed of 6.8 mi per hour which was exhilarating and only resulted in me squealing in childish terror a few times. You can see from the line of the horizon how tilted on her keel she rides at top speed. Scary! Scary! Scary! When we got into harbor, Tim allowed me to take the tiller through Franklin Street drawbridge and then he took the helm while we waited for the Amtrak bridge to turn. After we docked J and I were whipped and still had a two hour drive home. The whole experience was an exhausting but incredible adventure and if I ever had the time and opportunity to go again, I wouldn't even hesitate.