Going up the mast...not!

That's the captain, way up there.

There are occasions when owning a sailboat when somebody has to go up the mast, whether to repair, replace, paint or untangle.  In the past the captain has done this himself or commandeered a fellow boater or, on several occasions, one of our adult children to complete tasks on a swaying pole 65 or more feet above the water.  Last week the captain informed me that a new radar reflector needed to be installed, not all the way to the top of the mast, but past the second spreader. The long pause after that statement led me to believe that I was being given the opportunity to volunteer.  I did not.

Almost there...

As discussion ensued it became obvious that as the lighter of the two bodies it made sense for me to go up.  Looking up I could imagine myself at the lower of the two spreaders, but this job required the "hoistee" to be above the second spreader and then to let go, I repeat let go of the mast and move several feet to the standing rigging and the use two hands, again two hands to install the reflector.  At this point I decided I was Wonder Woman incarnate and capable of hoisting the captain all the up to job level.
With that decision made we gathered the necessary tools, checked out the bosun's chair, strapped the captain in and had a couple of trial runs.  I repeated the instructions, making certain I knew the exact method of not only winching the captain up, but in getting him down...preferably a a slow rate of speed.  

Mission complete

Once again the captain strapped himself in, we double checked the lines, and I began hoisting  him up the mast. It was a slow process and we encouraged each other along the way: I kept asking, "Are you o.k?", and he reminded me not to stand under his work area in case he dropped a tool.  When he finally made it up he swung out to the standing rigging and I tied the line off to a cleat.  While he was working I managed to snap a couple of pictures....from a distance! The wind had come up a bit by that time and I watched as the mast swayed ever so slightly above the deck. And yes, a screwdriver did hurtle down to the deck! The captain completed the task, slid back to the mast and was ready to come down.
I was actually more concerned about the ride down.  If I didn't maintain a tight hold on the line, he might descend too rapidly and crash on to the deck. But the self-tailing winch did its job beautifully and while I would love to pretend that sheer muscle on my part brought him down safely, the truth is it was a piece of cake.
Like so many unknowns, it turned out to be a lot easier than I anticipated. 
As the captain reminds me often, it's all part of the adventure.

To R and T: thanks for the times you went up the mast for the captain. One time R, always ready to try new things, scared his Mom witless by shouting, from the top of the mast, OMG!, when he saw manatees in the water below.  And for T, I'm very proud of you, even though I know you  were at least partly motivated by not wanting to be a "chicken"  in front of your daughter. =)