We'd all developed what Iron Davy called an "ear worm" from Neil Diamond's Sweet Caroline. Our efforts to get rid of it were thwarted by Captain Jean periodic outbursts of "GOOD TIMES NEVER SEEMED SO GOOOOOD!" His hopes that the rest of us would chant "So good! So good! So good!" were disappointed. Instead he heard grumbling, at best and, at worst, "Will you shut the @#$#@ up!"
The trip from the Bight to the Baths was fast. I'm told that we made it on a beam reach and didn't have to tack once. Sails up, straight shot to the last available buoy at the Baths. We were heeling pretty good to where the port rails were almost in the water. Again, I've got video, but here's a still shot that gives a sense.
The beam reach thing is nice, but for a lowly seaman like myself, the no tacking is the best part. Sailing involves long stretches of relaxation, interrupted by intense effort and lots of orders being barked when it comes time to turn the boat. Our trip to the Baths was pure relaxation and I fell dead asleep. However, my slumber was broken when the Captain screamed "Furl the jib, furl the jib!" I stumbled around, burned my hands the rope, stubbed my toe on some immovable object and got a leg cramp.
Got a ways to go before I'm a sailor.
-- Post From My IPad