And why are we so compulsive about rolling our sails? De-rigging the boat at the end of the night is as much of a ritual as the racing itself. As soon as the dock lines are set, the five of us just quietly go about our business, stripping and coiling the sheets. But my favorite part is rolling the sails; it’s something I take some strange pride in. It’s probably because, as a junior sailor, our club had the rattiest Club 420 sails of any of the nearby clubs. When we’d travel to area race weeks, there’d always be one team with a fresh set, and you could just hear the crispiness when they rolled them. Man, we were always envious. They rolled. We flaked. But when our club finally got around to buying new sails, we learned the fine art of a good roll—no creases, no bends, battens perfectly in line. I guess it’s one of those life skills we carry on as sailors, knowing that every crease in the fabric is a fraction-of-a-knot of speed lost. That’s why we’re so meticulous about our rolling. Our skipper surprised us with a new North 3DL genoa, and there’s no better roll than that first one. When it only takes two guys, we know the sail is fast, but when the third hand is required to support the middle, there’s always a sense of disappointment. It’s not necessarily the end of the jib; it usually means it’s the end of the summer.