In contrast, I've had more close calls with sailors who are 1) under power with no rags flying, 2) under power with their main up(***), 3) driving race committee boats.

(***) This is the best of both worlds gets ROW from all the uninformed.

*Non-Short Story* (Regarding #1 Above)
There are two instances in the following ramblings that illustrate my lack off comfort about the monomorans. About a month ago I was out introducing a co-working to sailing and cat sailing. It was a perfect late afternoon for introducing someone to sailing, light wind, no waves, no other boats until later; it was a Wednesday afternoon. Just enough breeze downwind to fly the hull with that powerful RacerX womper, I was sitting to leeward and new guy was driving. A closet catamaraner was anchored on his mono and on our way by we had polite discussion and he offered us beer if we needed any. So being a responsible dual-hauler, we continued upwind set that checkered thing of beauty, and headed for his stern, never one to refuse a free beer. He saw us coming. Perhaps it was a little bit ambitious on my part to think we could grab two beers while wildthingin'. He completely misjudged our rate of advancement. He had good form. However, he clearly aimed for the tramp instead of the hot green. The beers had splash down about 10 feet behind us. We could call into question his coordination and his ability to execute. But I don't think that would be fair to him. He showed excellent reaction time and ability to immediately leap into the murky, pee-warm, jellyfish laden river and retrieve the beers. He also showed keenness in that he ordered his boat babe to retrieve two fresh beers, since the West River sodden beers would simple not do. While we put on a boat parking display, he couldn’t stop commenting on our earlier flyby and remarking about how greaaat our sails where. I told him where he could get a set for himself. So finally we back out little ship up, preceded to starboard tack and promptly snagged the seat cushions he had tethered off his stern. Of course this is easily remedied, but upon his insistence to unsnarl us he almost received a nasty gash from the tip of the rudder blade on its way to releasing the seat cushions.

The second instance that evening we were sailing back to the club, moving fairly well considering the breeze, on port tack right along the docks at Pirates Cove. A 35’-40’ boat, had finished the race, had her sails put away with the main covered and was under power heading for her slip at Pirates Cove. When the “Lurch” look-a-like standing at the mast made a big show of where they intended to head, I made a big sweeping jester with my right hand at the incredible display of modern canvas that was rapidly placing us on our collision course. Our bowsprit would impale their overweight thingy about 3 meters from their bow (Like the metric use?). Probably resulting in empting their head. Fester, standing at the wheel, decided to show his quick wit and offered “but we are doing 8 knots.” Of course my having not thin sliced the characters we were dealing with, I replied, “So are we and what does that have to do with it?” Amazingly, Gomez was sitting in the **** being confidently quite. Thing, on the other hand, sorry, popped up from below providing us with a NY style howdy. Fester, in a joyous, overly confident state from his seconds earlier obvious verbal victory, offered “but we are blah, blah tons, what does that weigh 300#s?” Still not having come to a reasonable mind, I replied “try 800# and this particular model has been known to disable a Kevlar hull.” I know I’m a little slow, and not to quick, I finally decided to pinch a little and easy a little and let them pass. After all, our inclusion into the sailing community as a whole is a fragile existence. Cousin It, having now appeared on the scene at their transom, and obviously having not looked straight up asked, “Is that an A-cat?” For if he had looked straight up, Cousin It would have been able to see the “n” instead of the “A”. My reply was simple, “This is no A-cat. If it were, we would already be at the bar. Hope to see you there!”

We did have nice discussion or two with some other monos that were racing, and they were even being considerate with regards to our intentions. We did avoid them while they were racing. Simple sailing threw their lee.