The first time I repaired a sail was during the early days of our relationship. It was my one-week vacation, and we had done some aggressive sailing to Canada and back when, suddenly, the elderly mainsail blew out and was flap-slapping around.
“We’ll have to keep going with just the jib,” Dorin said. “I’ve got spare sails but not a main. I’ll have to repair it when we get back. It’s torn on the seam, so it won’t be hard.”
He lowered the main and removed it from the mast.
“You can repair it yourself?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a sail repair kit.”
“Is that something I could do now?”
“Um, well, yeah, if you want to. I’ll check to be sure I have the tools.”
The dropped sail filled the cockpit, but it was still attached to the boom. Below, he rummaged in a couple of lockers and came up with a small canvas bag and laid it on the dinette table. “I have to finish getting the sail off. Then I want to set an anchor, so we’ll be relatively stable. That will make it much more comfortable.”
Below, I sat on the Captain’s bunk and waited until he brought down the voluminous sail. It took up the whole cabin. He set me up with a threaded needle and showed me how to use the palm, which was nifty. He watched while I did a few stitches and then teased me about looking like a picture of domesticity, which made me laugh.
Two hours later, I was not laughing. It was hot and humid, which would be okay if I were outside getting the benefit of sea breezes. Also, I was bored. Needle into the doubled over sail seam, push with the palm, use pliers to pull it through to the other side, guide the waxed twine through so it didn’t tangle, and begin again. I had figured Dorin would be hanging out with me so we could talk—something we did a lot of.
But five minutes after I started the repair, he was outside, and I could hear him moving around, opening sail lockers and dropping tools.
I thought this was a heck of a way to spend the last day of my vacation, below, working my fingers into calluses, while he enjoyed the fresh air and sunshine.
When I was done, I called to him to show me how to finish off and knot the seam.
“Whew! It’s hot down here,” he said. “I don’t know how you can stand it.”
“Yeah, but I imagine it’s nice outside.”
“Oh, it is. Beautiful day!”
“Yeah, I would have liked to enjoy more of it.”
Dorin looked astonished. “Why didn’t you repair the sail outside? You would have had more light, too!”
“Because you brought the sail down into the cabin.”
“Yeah, because you were sitting down there waiting. I thought that’s where you wanted to work.”
“But I sat down here because that’s where you put the sewing bag. On the table. And I thought you might join me so we could hang out and talk.”
Dorin chuckled and shook his head. “But I felt so guilty about your sewing on my sail, I thought I should put in as much work myself, so I’ve been frantically doing a bunch of small repairs.”
I guffawed, and together we hauled the huge sail outside and reattached it to the main. It was, we decided, a good lesson in making more effort to communicate.