How do You Like the Cut of that...

so.
I had every intention of writing a witty, informative post about the Jib - the front sail on a sailboat, used to assist the mainsail in its wind using duties - followed by an even wittier and informative explanation of an Accidental Jibe - when, while sailing downwind with the sails full out, the wind (or the boat) changes direction causing the crew to lose control of the sails resulting in the boom - the big wooden beam attached to the mainsail - slamming full speed across the cockpit potentially knocking one or all crew into the water.
See also, 'About' in the A post for a slightly less violent and controlled version of this going upwind.

anyway.
Derailed by a deceptive cup of 'sleepy' tea, NOT the kind with the snuggly bear on the box, and an early wake up call for a training session on the new charting system at work, I have exactly three super confusing paragraphs written.
I did not enjoy rereading them and I am SURE you won't.

Which brings me back to J - and Jib.
This is a Jib:

Well, it is also the Mainsail.
Deconstructed.
After weighing the pros and cons of aluminum vs wooden mast for our wooden sloop, Blue Skies, we decided it was much cooler and cheaper, for Rob to make the mast himself.
Consequently, with less weighing of options, it was decided that I would sew the sails.
This kit is from Sailrite. The pieces are all precut and the instructions both written and video, were spot on. I highly recommend their product.

This is the Jib, completed with me delirious that it is finished.
I had blocked the Mainsail construction from my mind at this point.

Here is the Jib attached to Blue Skies.
The neighbors were cautiously curious as to why we were setting up a sailboat in our driveway.
To their credit, they still invite us to the yearly block party.

This is my favorite view of the Jib, lounging on the bow in the shade of the sail.
This was our rental boat from Key Lime Sailing Club in Key Largo.
Come back on Thursday for the letter K and more info on this awesome place.

And here is a video of an Accidental Jibe.
I don't have one from our boat, which isn't to say that we haven't had it happen. Only that I was too busy ducking to get a video...

I feel this says it all.

And, in case you didn't get the title reference...
'I like the cut of your jib.' dates back to early sailing days, when the jib was actually shaped in a manner to distinguish the ship's country of origin. To like the jib meant you were aligned politically to that country. Naturally, this evolved into a compliment on how one is physically shaped...

For more A to Z Challenge entries click a-to-zchallenge .

A-Ahoy

B-Bells

C-Catamarn

D-Dramamine

E-Escape

F-Flags

G-Galley

H-Head and Heel

I-IC24

Yup, I made that bad boy....

I have never been much of a risk taker, preferring to make decisions based on how much bodily pain or parental guilt will be involved. Yet, it seems that 2013 is not going to be a year for the timid.

Most recently of note: I completed the jib for our hand built sailboat. For those unfamiliar with sailing terminology, ahem, like me – A jib is a triangular staysail that sets ahead of the foremast of a sailing vessel . (thank you wikipedia.)

I was initially not on board (har har) with making the sails for our boat. However, my husband pointed out that after nearly three years of HAND BUILDING it just seemed wrong to put a manufactured sail from the HAND BUILT mast. (I am capitalizing HAND BUILT/BUILDING as I am quite sure that is how it was pronounced.) So it was with much trepidation that my twenty seven year old Kenmore portable sewing machine and I took to the task.

The sail came in 6 pieces from a company called Sailrite. They take great pride in their sail kits, offering YouTube videos and detailed instruction, some of which is HAND written on everything from using the non-spinning spool of thread to attaching the sticker that proclaims to the world that you have indeed made one of their sails.

Much to my surprise, the pieces went together quite easily with only a couple of hitches, both involving shoving pointy objects through or around four layers of sailcloth, a quarter inch thick rope and -once- my husband's index finger. My little Kenmore jugged right along and although Miss Galbrieth, my 7^th grade home-ec teacher, would not approve of the rather flimsy tension of the thread in places, I think she would still be secretly delighted. Miss Galbrieth was a single woman with a boyfriend, who wore fashionable clothes and addressed us middle school girls as fellow women. I concocted many a secret life for her in the two years she was my instructor, secret life that were less than conformist.

Which brings me to the risk taking. As I was finishing the last couple of seams I began to ponder just how important this project was. Sure, the HAND MADE boat is important to my husband for many reasons. To me it had always been an interesting project which kept the garage simultaneously impossible to enter and unbelievably clean except for the 15 foot boat in it. But lets face it, I never really considered the implications of completion. I find deep and meaningful thoughts more hilarious than insightful but as I looked at the jib, a sail used to increase performance and decrease turbulence for the mainsail, it occurred to me that this piece of fabric was the leading edge of opportunity to places yet to be explored and a lifestyle I have only pretended to be living.

Of course, I still have the Main to sew. Which gives me plenty of time to get my life insurance in order...

Good to know this can double as my body bag...

Our HAND BUILT sloop - Nancy's China DC from Devlin Boats (Their name, not ours. Our name will be much better.)