“Well, he hasn’t found it yet,” Sandy said stubbornly. “And until he does, there must be something we can do to get more speed out of this boat!”
Stirring out of his gloom, Jerry trimmed the mainsheet and then the jib. Then suddenly he brightened. “Say! I remember reading about one trick that might help us. It’s called wing-and-winging. What you do is rig the jib on the opposite side from the mainsail when you’ve got the wind at your back. It’s supposed to act almost like a spinnaker.”
“Well, let’s do it!” Sandy said. “What do you want me to do?”
“You just hold the course, like before,” Jerry explained. “I’ll go forward and re-rig. When I tell you to, you uncleat the jenny sheet, and I’ll swing the sail around on the other side and brace it out. I’ll use the boat hook for a whisker pole to hold it in place. Maybe this’ll turn the trick!”
He clambered forward, and once more Sandy was left alone with the tiller, the star and the masthead. For a few minutes he thought only of holding the course, until he heard Jerry’s voice, “Now!”
Leaning forward, Sandy uncleated the sheet which held the genoa jib in trim, where it had flown almost useless before the mainsail. He watched eagerly as Jerry hauled the sail around to the windward side, lashed the boat hook to the clew and swung the big triangle outboard. Almost instantly, the jenny started to fill, and Sandy felt the little sloop start forward.
Jerry quickly leaped into the cockpit and secured the sheet, trimming the billowing sail. “It’s working!” he panted. “This may just turn the trick!”
They listened in satisfaction to the increased sound of the waves slipping past the sloop’s sides and muttering in the wake. They could actually feel the difference in the motion of the boat.
“Jones has probably had his jib winged out all this time,” Jerry said. “That’s why he’s been closing in on us so fast. Maybe this will keep the distance the way it is until we can get ashore or get help!”
“I sure hope so!” Sandy agreed.