We have not been sailing MAYAN much this winter. Storms filled the Santa Cruz Harbor mouth with sand and even with her centerboard pulled up, she was trapped. The hard working crew on the dredge finally caught up a month ago and we were free to set sail and enjoy a beautiful springtime. As always, the early trips bring out the gremlins and MAYAN certainly has her share. Our wind instruments failed, the fuel system needed attention and who left all this stuff sitting around where it would fall over when we sailed?
Our first event of the season was taking the El Toro sailors from the Santa Cruz Yacht Club (SCYC) out for a day sail. These are our youngest sailors, from about 8 to 14, and as they formed up on the dock preparing to come aboard we were struck by their excitement. The El Toro is an 8' pram (picture on the left) that is often the first boat a kid is allowed to sail on their own. A tough and surprisingly seaworthy craft, she takes good care of her sailor. Our Jr. El Toro team usually sails on a lake, and for many of them, this would be their first trip out onto the open ocean.
,Twenty-five strong, the kids streamed aboard and started to explore MAYAN. We were also joined by eight of their parents and three of MAYAN's typical crew. We're always amazed that a crew this size simply disappears aboard and it doesn't seem crowded. After a quick safety briefing, we got underway and there were some exclamations of joy as MAYAN's bow lifted to the first swell at the harbor mouth. I'm too old encrusted to yell as a wave lifts the bow, but it's always a great feeling.
Once the lowers were set (mainsail, main staysail, and fore staysail) each kid got a chance to take the helm. "I can't see where I'm going." exclaimed one of our younger sailors. So a watch was set on the bowsprit (see picture on the right) to call out if any boat or ship were to be in our path. The first thing heard was "Porpoises!" and ten small sailors rushed the foredeck. Then "Whale!" As our small crewkids worked the wheel one particularly little girl couldn't put on more weather helm, it was just too hard to turn the wheel. Without pause she simply climbed up on the pegs of the wheel and bounced, moving the wheel to the right position. This kid is a sailor!
With the line at the helm formed up, each sailor got a chance to sail MAYAN for 15-20 minutes, perform a gybe and generally sail wherever they wanted to. The looks of incredulity were replaced by big smiles as we told them they couldn't hurt MAYAN and she would simply go wherever they pointed her, provided it wasn't straight up wind. To convince a few of them that they really couldn't do any harm, we did a few circles with the lowers slowly swinging from tack to tack and gybe to gybe. Even the parents relaxed as they realized that nothing terrible was going to happen.
As we sailing along I explained to the kids that schooner rigs were developed by working sailors who wanted a weatherly rig that could be sailed by a very small crew. The fishermen of New England deserve the credit for our modern schooner rig. Each day fishing on the Banks the crew would be dropped off in their dories as the schooner sailed a large slow circle under main staysail alone. Only the ship's cook and ship's boy were left aboard to tend to the ship, which was well over 100' long. At the end of the day, the boy and the cook would slowly sail around picking up the dories, their cargo and their crew. Aboard some schooners the skipper would bring his family along. They'd take on the job of sailing the ship while the men were fishing. After years of development, these two masted schooners became easy to sail and could stay at sea through the gales and storms of the north Atlantic. 
Once MAYAN's diminutive crew had settled into a routine of waiting for their trick at the helm and catting with their friends. They looked for a bit of fun/mischief to get into. It was wonderful to see them find a game I played as a kid and my children played when they were aboard. One kid will jump down the boobie hatch (the fore hatch for those who aren't schooner sailors), then dash aft down the alleyway, through the galley, across the saloon and up the main companionway into the cockpit. Then race forward to repeat the process. As some of the crew ran 'round the boat, others sat down with one of our regular crew, Alex, who taught them how to re-pack an inflatible lifejacket. Cruising on a large stable platform, like MAYAN, changes sailing. There's time and space to indulge other activites beyond just sailing the boat, and there's little as nice to see as kids in the share of the fore staysail learning a seamanlike task.
As the day faded we returned our small sailors to the dock and said good bye. It was wonderful to see MAYAN do such a great job at her appointed mission. We chose her because we've grand children coming along and we wanted to provide a way for them to learn seamanship and go voyaging with us. It's looking like MAYAN was a great choice.
Two weeks later we hosted the Scholastic Sailors from SCYC. These are the high-school juniors and seniors who normally race Lasers, FJs, and small keel boats - all quite athletic forms of sailing. Unlike the El Toro sailors, this crew immediately took over the foredeck, leaving their parents and our crew in the cockpit alone. Teenagers, they're beyond needing us. As one of their parents dashed up in a RIB, they all lined up for a quick photo, then set to work hoisting the lowers and the outer jib. Initially we had a bit more wind, so we tucked a reef in the mainsail to avoid any drama. Of course, having done that, the wind immediately fadded away and left us slowly cruising along.
MERCEDES represents a second generation Moore sailing family, kids who grew up at the Club, and who are now making their place in a fleet born in Santa Cruz. It's great to see.
My great-grandfather was a Grand Banks fisherman and your story describes exactly how they used to fish. Brought back memories of my grandfather telling us stories about his father when I was young. My great-grandfather and his brothers owned 3 ships that sailed out of Bar Harbor, Maine. He was proud that he never lost a man. In the winter he would cut ice from ponds, pack it in the hull with sawdust and sell it in the Carolinas.
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