We were finishing a cruiser race series on the west coast of Vancouver Island a few years ago.

A couple days earlier, our longtime friend and crew Paul, a VERY experienced world cruiser commented on the sad state of our sail ties, nearly cut through from long use. I said, something like "Yeah, yeah. They should be replaced, but I need to get my money's worth out of them first." {Translation: they need to break before I'll replace them.}

We had a very good race that last day and were among the first finishers even counting the bigger boats. So we were steaming at full speed into Ucluelet to claim our rights to a choice guest slip. We had enough speed under power so the apparent wind was ahead of us, fine for dropping the main without circling. We dropped and started furling.

I gave a lusty yank up and back on one of the ties when it parted. I assumed the position of a cartoon character flying through the air backwards. I imagined little puffs of smoke under my feet as I went airborne. Reality probably wasn't quite that dramatic. However, I was standing on the coach roof one instand, then remembered hitting the lifeline at about the small of my back. I was at my balance point and as I teetered, thought I'd be in the drink (with self-inflating PFD) in another instant. Instead, I landed on my feet, unscathed and feeling really stooopid. Fortunately, I landed just on the wire and didn't drive a stanchion into my spine. Amazingly, there was no immediate or later pain. We were in dead flat conditions on the long motor up into Ucluelet Harbor. Even if I had gone over the side, my crewmates could have picked me up easily if they chose to do so after picking themselves up off the deck when the guffaws subsided.