After a collective deep breath to relax, we suddenly noticed something dramatic had changed, the windex was no longer pointed straight forward—we could at long last actually sail this fine vessel and guess who just happened to be behind the wheel. Yep, Dave G (me). Up went the sails and we doused the engine. Ah yes, the quiet hum of the hulls skimming through the water. With a freshening breeze in the 17- to 20- knot range, we were soon scooting along at 10 knots. Still in the lee of Long Island, the sea was flat and Jesse leaned over to point out this would probably be the best sailing we’d have. I took that to heart and spent the next four hours trying to sort out a straight line so the old autopilot didn’t bench me.