So, I'm in the Windrider with the main reefed, shilling back and forth in front of the marina waiting for Wolf to be ready to come sailing. It's a powerful wind and very gusty but I decide to roll out the jib and have a little excitement. That's when the turnbuckle on the reacher sail parts and the whole contraption, including the black pipe extension, starts flogging wildly. I try to roll in the jib but it's not coming easily. Then a violent gust slams me from the side. I'm struggling with the headsails. I can't point up. and I don't react quickly enough to point down. I grab for the main sheet but by then the impossible is happening—a Windrider is tipping over.

When I know I'm a goner I dive out of the cockpit working to keep clear of the mainsheet. I dive and then swim up aft. In swimming I don't think about my glasses, but when I come up I notice that, in spite of the strap, they are gone. That's when I think about my phone which was not in the dry bag.

So now the boat has turned turtle, with the mast pointing at the bottom. A guy in a jetski is alongside within minutes, but I'm fine. I'm less than a hundred yards off the high dock and a crowd is gathering, although I can't really see who is there. Ken in the jetski helps gather stuff that is floating away and tows me in closer. David (from the big house) comes out in his big powerboat and we attach lines to the amas and try flip the boat back over, without success. Finally we tie the boat to the high dock and, since I had ridden my bike to the marina, Patrick gives me a ride back home.

I change out of my sopping clothes and begin to warm up a bit, and then John and ME drive me back to the marina, with me figuring the boat will probably spend the night upside down. But when I get there a crowd has gathered…Wolf, Patrick, Rachel, David, and somehow, Mike Coombs, in his wet suit.

Rachel and Mike jump in the water and pull the pins on the akas, which takes pressure off the shrouds (John's idea) and then Rachel dives repeatedly with a pliers to disconnect the forestay. She spends a lot of time under water, but finally the pin comes out and the mast is free to swing backward and stop sticking in the mud. Meanwhile, I've got the 2.5 Merc onto Geode and I am able to tow the hulk in to the beach.

Once on the beach a whole group of folks help pull one of the amas out of the aka; lines are attached, and the boat is heaved over. Rachel pumps the boat dry using the handle of a pliers since the pump handle is in the briny deep, while Mike and I get the brand new motor off the motor mount and haul it ashore where it can begin to drain. Everyone helps untangle the rigging mess, and I paddle the boat back to the dock.

So, should the blame for this fiasco be placed on the rigging failure, or somewhere else? I blame Wolf for not being ready to go sailing when I was. No major damage to the boat—and it got a god rinsing. I am, however, missing my glasses and cell phone. These spare glasses I found are cloudy and scratched. And without the phone my blog will be limited, I won't be able to finish the e-book I was just getting into, and I will be somewhat incommunicado. Still, It was an adventure, and things could have been worse.