Tornado By Julie, julierich2@hotmail.com Sailing a fast catamaran in the Santa Barbara channel Just the word sends a shiver up my spine. Undisputedly the fastest one- design sailboat in the world she is twenty feet of polished fiberglass with a twenty-seven foot mast and less than ten feet of beam. I'm no stranger to racing catamarans, having sailed Holby Cats since I was a young girl, but I jumped at a chance to spend a day on one of these rare racing machines. It wasn't until I found myself standing waist deep in cold water coaxing the sleek craft off its trailer that I started having second thoughts about the wisdom of my adventure Rigging the tall mast in the pre-dawn darkness had been a chore but handling the precision hardware heightened my anticipation of what this perfect machine could do. Shivering in a brief bikini I thought about the warm sweat suit I abandoned when Dirk ordered me into the water to launch "Taz." I knew I would be warm soon enough though, as sailing a high performance catamaran is a real workout. Dawn was spreading spectacular colors across the sky and patches of fog drifted over the glassy smooth water. The first light puffs of air were sending ripples across perfect reflections in the marina and starting the daily clang of stainless steel rigging on aluminum masts. Clear of the trailer I pointed the bow at the landing dock, gave a push and threw my leg over the hull. The feel of this racing thoroughbred tempered the shock of cold fiberglass between my thighs as it shot effortlessly forward. I quickly climbed onto the trampoline and picked up the tiller. As I drifted across the smooth water, I watched the taillights blink on Dirk's Grand Cherokee as he parked the boat trailer. With a yawn I regretted getting less than two hours of sleep but spending the evening in the company of good friends had been worth it. It was Fiesta time in Santa Barbara and I helped close the bars along State Street with the crew of Miss Lille, a sixty-five foot ocean racing yacht owned by an old friend. He was in town for the weekend to participate in an offshore race and was always good company. I thought wistfully of joining them and taking the big boat out but my racing days on Miss Lille are part of another story. I couldn't help admiring the handsome figure of a man walking down the dock toward me and started feeling better about the day. I met Dirk Henderson a couple of weeks ago at a party back home in Marina Del Rey. A mutual friend introduced us and the conversation naturally drifted to sailing. He casually mentioned that he was a Tornado sailor and I tried to act suitably impressed. "What's the name of your boat?" I asked tentatively. "Taz," came the reply with a big smile. "God, that's original," I thought to myself and nearly groaned out loud. We decided that a run to the Channel Islands from Santa Barbara would be a great way to see what the boat could do and here we were. The plan was to start early, as soon as the wind picked up but before the sea got rough. Trying to sail in the afternoon swells would be nearly impossible. I was really anxious to try a maneuver called the "Wild Thing," but more on that later. A Tornado will do over thirty knots under the right conditions. With ten to fifteen knots of wind it will easily average twenty to twenty- five knots of speed on smooth water. Acceleration is incredible with the boat hitting full speed in less than five seconds. Once under way there is no chance for a rest. Keeping a high performance catamaran under control requires constant attention and one slip would result in disaster. We strapped on our flotation vests, stowed our gear and glided past the breakwater in light air. Once clear of the rocks, we turned to a beam reach and headed south. With over two hundred seventy square feet of sail the boat just seemed to go faster and faster. "Get in the trapeze," Dirk ordered and I went forward and started strapping myself in. The trapeze is a seat made up of nylon webbing similar to a climbing harness with a line running to the top of the mast. To keep a sailboat from flipping over it's important to get as much weight on the upwind or weather side as possible. To properly use the trapeze you stand with both feet against the side of the hull and lean as far back over the water as you can. The thrill of speed was intoxicating. As I started to lean out, Dirk sheeted in the main and the weather hull lifted out of the water. I arched my back to get my weight as far out as I could until my long hair was nearly trailing in the rushing foam. Spray stung my cheeks and I shivered when a crashing swell completely doused me. The entire boat was vibrating from the strain and the hiss of water mingling with the hum of wind in the wires was deafening. We must have been making well over twenty knots as Santa Barbara faded in the distance. "Get your buns out here," I thought to myself watching Dirk perch comfortably on the trampoline while I was getting soaked with spray. "Get your weight further forward!" Dirk yelled over the din and started sheeting in the jib. "You're gonna broach it," I thought to myself but obediently followed orders. Suddenly it happened. We hit a wave just a little higher than the average and the hull dug in. The entire boat cartwheeled in a split second and I found myself flying past the top of the mast. I pulled the emergency release on the trapeze and tucked into a ball before I hit the water. Dirk wasn't so lucky and he slammed into the mast and rigging. When I broke to the surface I was amazed to see the boat still standing upright. I was about fifty feet out and it was drifting slowly away from me in the wind. Dirk was hanging over the side with his head under water and not moving. With all the strength I could muster I swam for safety. My shoulders ached but I could see that I was slowly gaining on the drifting cat. It was a relief when I struggled onto the hull and dragged myself up to the trampoline. Dirk had recovered by the time I got there and was spitting seawater. Once we had everything secured I took the tiller. We were slowly drifting toward West Point on Santa Cruz Island so I decided to head for Bechers Bay on Santa Rosa. It only took a few minutes and I pulled the dagger boards up as we slid across a kelp bed just outside the inviting sandy beach. Dirk helped me pull the big cat up onto the sand and I suddenly realized I desperately needed to take a leak. I pulled down my bikini, squatted behind a big rock for privacy and slowly felt a lot better. The gentle breeze and warm sunshine were completely sensuous on my bare skin so I pulled off my bra and enjoyed the warm sun on my breasts. I could feel my nipples respond and send a tingle over my whole body. As I stood up I cupped my small breasts in my hands and shook my head. I had long ago gotten over being self conscious about my figure. It would be nice to have more but that's all that came with my lean athletic body. When I walked back naked, Dirk was lying on his back with his eyes closed. Suddenly the tall handsome man looked really inviting. I knelt down and let my shadow fall on his face until he opened his eyes and smiled. Are you ok? I asked softly. He reached up his arms to me and I ran my fingers through his chest hair. His swelling manhood was doing its best to escape the bounds of his shorts so I untied the lacing and set him free. My own juices were flowing as I straddled him and slowly lowered myself onto his love pole. I was pleasantly surprised at the size of his tool as I rode up and down gaining speed and rhythm. His body trembled as I increased my speed and his hips began responding to my thrusts. We were both breathing harder and harder as he cupped my breasts in his hands and explored my sensitive nipples with his fingertips. I finally exploded in an orgasm as I felt his huge tool pulsating inside me. Too exhausted to stand, I lay across his firm muscular body in the warm glow of complete fulfillment. We when he tried to put his arms around me and hold me, I twisted free and walked to the boat. "Care for a beer?" I called back over my shoulder. When he shook his head, I reached in the cooler and found myself a tall Corona. I sat on the smooth hull of the Tornado and sipped the cold brew while enjoying the magnificent scenery. Rocky cliffs rose straight up from the small sandy beach behind us. As the land heated up, the smell of sage filled the air. Santa Cruz Island's rugged coastline stood out in the clear air and looked so close it seemed you could just reach out and touch it. Looking North across the channel I noticed that things were starting to get hazy and realized we were running out of time. "Hey, we'd better get back before the chop builds up in the channel," I called to Dirk, still sitting on the beach and lacing up his shorts. He helped me shove the boat off and I took the tiller for the trip home. Once clear of the island, I decided to test the handling of the big cat. I did a couple of fast tacks and was amazed at the solid response. This boat made the Holby Cat I was accustomed to seem like a child's toy. "Take it easy, Julie," Dirk call, "Lets keep this thing right side up." I could see I had his attention. "You're the one who broached it," I shot back. "Lets do the Wild Thing!" "Enough for one day, just do an easy down-wind run." "I got wet sailing out here, it's your turn," I coaxed. Dirk reluctantly strapped himself into the trapeze and worked his way down to the lee or downwind side of the cat. The Wild Thing is a tactic developed by Olympic sailors a few years ago to increase down-wind speed. A crewmember hikes out on the lee side and helps lift the opposite hull. It's then up to the helmsman to keep the boat balanced. This trick is a little like doing a wheel stand on a motorcycle and then riding cross-country with the front wheel in the air. I wobbled around a little at first but quickly got the hang of it. Soon we were shooting along on one hull in a cloud of spray. "Wild Thing!" I chanted at the top of my voice and saw Dirk smile. "You make my heart sing!" He was moving his lips. "You make everything groovy!" He started to sing along. "Wild Thing!" I was having so much fun it wasn't until I noticed other boats around us that I realized I was still naked. "Here, you take it," I called to Dirk as I dropped the flying hull and went looking for something to wear. I found a blue cotton dress with a pleated elastic bodice in my bag and pulled it on. One advantage of a tight figure is that you don't need underwear. Rounding the breakwater I saw a crowd of familiar faces on the dock. It was the crew of Miss Lille out to greet us. "Yo Julie, How goes!" "That was quite a show!" Another voice chimed in. "Yea, we were watching you fly that thing!" "Some of us were, but there weren't enough binoculars to go around!" The first voice complained. "We thought you were going to sail right into the slip stark ass naked with your port hull in the air!" The last comment made me blush but I was immediately surrounded by hugs and back slaps when I stepped onto the dock. "Want a ride south with us, we'll be leaving in an hour." The invitation was tempting. "Excuse me for a minute, guys," I said and walked over to Dirk. "Thanks for a wonderful day, you have a really fantastic boat." I put my hands on his hips and felt his firm abdominal muscles. "I love you, Julie," he stammered softly and tried to put his arms around me. "Wrong words," I thought to myself and gently put my hands on his bare chest to push him away. "You don't mind if I ride south with the guys, do you?" I asked running my fingers through his chest hair and gently squeezing his nipples. I could feel his manhood growing as he tried to pull my body against his. "I'll see you in town, lets do this again sometime," he finally said as I twisted out of his grip. I found a pair of walking shoes in my bag and strapped them on then linked arms with the guys from Miss Lille. As we walked away, I looked over my shoulder at the long sleek racing machine pulled up at the dock and the tall handsome man standing beside it. The intoxicating thrill of speed was still fresh in my mind and I could almost feel the sting of spray on my face and hear the hiss of water under the hull. The sex wasn't bad either. "Yes, I would like to do it again," I thought to myself. Julie .