By: Tim Henry
Are singlehanded sailors born or made? Did you grow up wanting to sail alone? Are you a devotee of Joshua Slocum’s Sailing Around the World Alone and Bernard Moitessier’s The Long Way? Do you have dreams of going to sea by yourself? Or is your singlehanded curiosity more a personal challenge — or a matter of logistics? You have a crew, but they’re not always available … and you still want to go sailing.
If you’ve never singlehanded your keelboat before but feel ready to give it a shot, here are some tips for safe, successful and fun solo-sailing sessions.
Preparation/Anticipating
The majority, if not the entirety, of efficient singlehanded sailing centers around preparations made before you ever leave the dock and anticipating what you’ll have limited access to once you’re stuck to the tiller or wheel. Imagine how you’d want your boat set up in the thick of it.
Think first about what we all tend to overlook, and what will be hardest to access once you’re sailing alone: below decks. Stow meticulously and over-prepare. Has your cooler always stayed put even though it’s not tied down? Tie it down, anyway. I once went sailing alone on what I thought would be a light-wind day only to find strong wind and lumpy seas. Everything below went sloshing.
For those with inboard engines — imagine if you had to check something while you scurried away from the wheel. Is there paneling that you can/should remove ahead of time? No matter what the conditions, you’ll probably need to get food and drinks or clothes. Plan accordingly.
Once down below is shipshape, you’re ready to prepare the deck. On my boat, all the halyards led to the cockpit, though I’d usually have to go to the mast and foredeck near the completion of raising or lowering the sails. I’d hank the jib on and roll it into a tight little ball, sheets already led. Sometimes I’d lash the balled-up jib with two lines fastened in a slippable knot. Keep your winch handles close by and stow them safely when not in use. (Are you anchoring? That’s a whole other level of preparation.)
The best preparation/anticipation for solo sailing might be “singlehanding” with other people. Invite your crew to relax and do nothing while you sail the boat by yourself, imagining what it’ll be like when no one’s there. Practice makes perfect.
Leaving the Dock and Sailing
When will you be “ready” to singlehand? Only you can be the judge. If you’re considering going alone, then you’ve already been sailing enough to have made big decisions and questioned your abilities — and eventually taken your abilities to the next level. Don’t be afraid to go, and don’t be afraid to say no, it’s too much right now. If you’re ready to singlehand, then you accept that you’re taking your own risks and responsibility.
Getting in and out of your slip should be something that you’ve already practiced many times with crew or with people on the dock helping you. Know your engine well. Does it start easily? Does it stall? Does it need some time to warm up?
It’s not that you’ll never leave the helm, it’s that you must anticipate and control when you can. You need open water to let the boat stumble or to heave to. At this point, you should know numerous characteristics of how your boat sails, drifts, heads into the wind, goes into irons, etc. My boat, a 1968 Columbia Challenger (24-feet), was extremely forgiving; it would luff just off the wind while bobbing into the chop. I had about eight seconds of a slow roundup, then another four seconds before the boat would be fully into the wind and threaten to tack or stall. This gave me short, predictable bursts away from the tiller so I could go forward.
You’ve probably also learned a few tricks to handle your boat in a variety of conditions, especially when it’s windy. For those with bigger boats, trimming the jib can be a major undertaking. You’ll learn to luff into the wind just enough to depower the jib, then crank it in, bear away, and power up again. You’ll find a controlled out-of-control rhythm of putting the boat exactly where you want it into the wind, leaving the helm, grinding, and returning to the tiller/wheel while the boat still has some momentum and steerage. (This “maneuver” is probably most useful if you don’t have roller-furling and are lowering the jib.)
One of my great joys while sailing alone was tying off the tiller and letting the boat sail by itself. My boat was small enough that I could use my body weight to trim or even make small course changes. In those moments, I’d remind myself to breathe and enjoy it. I would also think about how high the stakes were. Even with a trained crew, falling overboard unexpectedly and being recovered is a perilous ordeal. Most people are shocked at how difficult it is to climb back into their boat. Plan accordingly. Sometimes when I’d tied off the tiller, I’d trail a line behind the boat — might as well tie a few knots in the end — which was also a “trip line” fastened to the line holding the tiller. The hope was that I could at least get the boat to round up and stall if I’d gone overboard. Luckily, I never tested the theory.
Sharing sailing with your friends is wonderful, but sailing by yourself is endlessly rewarding, too. Don’t forget to breathe, and enjoy it!
