In the "old days" when catamarans were selling like hotcakes and when dealers were into providing service and helping people learn how to sail and use these exciting sailing machines, dealers like Tom Tannert in northern Ohio (Sailing Spirit, long defunct), used to actually go out with their customers on the boat and show them how to sail it and how to capsize and right it, on the water, so they would be comfortable with capsize and knowledgeable about how to right the boat. Not many dealers, if any, do that any more. Who wants to go out and get wet doing that? Tom was also the guiding force in getting fleets going in his area. Not many dealers do that any more, either. I don't blame the dealers, they have to change their programs and sell what sells. But it sure was nice in the "old days" to have someone who really cared and wanted to make sure you had the right boat for you, and that you knew how to handle it, and that you got hooked up with a local fleet to give you additional support.



I had been sailing for 30 years before I ever capsized. I was very intimidated about the possibility. I sailed a Shark Catamaran for several years, and it had never occurred to anybody in our family that the boat would ever capsize. And it never did. We sailed other catamarans, and they never capsized, either, including the Tornado. Rick and I got our Hobie 18 in 1980, and we had been sailing it for a couple years when we first capsized. It was up at Traverse Bay, Michigan, where the water is an unreal swimming pool blue-green and very cold. The wind was "blowing" about 5 mph. We were just lounging around waiting for a race to start. A little puff came along, and, boom, we capsized! It was very embarrassing. It was also the first time either of us had capsized a catamaran. And since there was so little wind, we had a very hard time righting it, because there was no wind to help. (And we were a lot lighter ourselves back then, too.)



Anyway, it was the best thing that ever happened to me, because after that I was not afraid of capsizing. The boat just went over on its side so gently. Nothing scary about it. Nothing scary about righting it, either.



Now, pitchpoling is a whole nother story. A pitchpole can be very quick and violent. I have never been involved in a pitchpole. That's mostly because when I was sailing, I would not allow it. We always sailed sloop-rigged boats, and I handled the jib. The jib is the main character in a pitchpole scenario, because the jib is the front man that tends to pull the bow down. I've heard so many stories about the crew flying forward and out around the forestay and causing pitchpoles. I have never been able to understand that, because I KNOW that the number one rule is DO NOT GET THROWN FORWARD (and my sub-rule is IF YOU ARE BEING THROWN FORWARD, AT LEAST TAKE YOUR SKIPPER WITH YOU).



The most likely point of sail for a pitchpole to happen is a beam reach, where the apparent wind is radically shifting back and forth. So when we are on a screaming reach, I do not look at the sails, I do not look at other boats, I concentrate totally on the leeward bow of our boat. I know exactly how deep that bow can go before I have to ease the jib to bring that bow back up again. And as soon as it starts coming back up, I bring in the jib again so we can accelerate and keep going fast. But that leeward bow is what the crew has to watch like a hawk when you are on a reach.



Every boat will be different as far as how much you can allow the bow to submerge on a reach, but the person manning the jib has to know where that fine line is, and when to ease the jib and when to sheet in.



For a crew, knowing how to control the boat on a reach is a very empowering thing, even if it is only done in self-defense. It is the ONLY point of sail where the jib-handler actually has a lot of control over the fate of the boat.



Women who are crewing, even as novices, need to know that they can have some control. Nobody likes to just be a passenger, totally depending upon someone else (like a spouse). I think it would help a new woman on the boat to know that if she releases the jib, it will make the boat settle down. And then, once she understands the power she has, she can learn how to use it in more suble ways than just cutting the jib loose and letting it flog itself to death. Women like to know that they have control, but they also like to be subtle about it.


Mary A. Wells