Schritt Tempo

Schritt Tempo is a German phrase used to explain something very slow, typically walking speed; that is my wife's description of sailing, but the slowness is the ultimate appeal. In todays world, everything we do is speed based, everything from computers to fast food. We are so ingrained with speed that we have a hard time disconnecting and enjoying something slow.





Sailing forces one to slow down and wait. Wait for the right time to tack, wait to arrive at a destination, sit back and let the slow hand of the wind move you. You might be a few hundred yards from your destination, but being at the mercy of the wind,  you may need to sail past it and tack back to arrive. Slowing life down and paying attention to what is going on around you will open your eyes to the little things we miss everyday.




When I sail I listen to the calming sound of the water running along the side of the boat, birds flying by or floating on the water, the sound of the wind in the rigging, smell the fresh air, and watch the fish jump. Even the sounds of other boaters would be drowned out when using a motorboat but can be clearly heard while sailing. Sitting and talking with my first mate, just the two of us, undisturbed by daily life, is one of the best rewards of sailing.




Sailing takes us back to an era when people had the time to think, and to dream. An age where time wasn't the only factor that mattered. How much better would our lives be if we were freed from the chains of time? I think; much better.




I am so sure of the power of slow, that I plan to name my live aboard boat: Yeah, you guessed it: Schritt Tempo. What better name than a German phrase that literally means walking pace, but is said in a sarcastic manner to imply that walking is faster than sailing. I think it is the perfect name because getting somewhere slow is the best way to actually see and experience what is around you.

That time again

It seems like just yesterday that we put Aquilon in the water and sailed her for the first time this year. Now, she sits with bare poles and no Bimini, waiting to be pulled from the water, set down on her cradle, for her long winters rest. Maybe I am just getting older, but it seems that the years slide by faster and faster, each one fading into memory. I can remember the few good sailing days we shared this year, and those memories with my first mate will be cherished.

Two weekends ago, we spent a day pulling down the sails, folding, and storing them. We also took down the Bimini: The canvas top has to be replaced over the winter after weathering one too many Midwest thunderstorms. We also have wood to sand and varnish, power wash and paint the bottom, wash and wax the boat, winterize the engine, change the oil and filters, and generally clean and store all of the gear. There's a lot of work to do on a sailboat, but for me it is both relaxing and rewarding. There is, after all,  nothing more majestic than a well maintained boat under sail.

Well, the boat didn't come out as planned. The engine wasn't pumping water and the marina owner was worried about overheating. So this weekend I went back over to the lake and replaced the impeller on the water pump and then drove the boat over to be pulled out. 

While on the crane the boat almost fell when the rear straps slipped on the muddy hull. It was definately a "pucker" moment. After having the bottom cleaned and repositioning the straps, Aquilon was set down on her cradle. I winterized the engine and stored all her gear and said goodbye to the old girl. 

Update: the Bimini is at the upholstery shop, so Aquilon will be sporting a nice new hat in the spring. I also plan to pull most of the teak off of the deck and redo it over the winter months. After the power wash we found some areas on the hull that need repainted too. Lots of work ahead before we splash her next season. But I'm up for the challenge and already looking forward to next year.