Better than a Bowline

Twin One, whipped splice in paw

Fur has been very busy splicing a new main halyard (the rope that hoists the sail), in preparation for the arrival of our new mainsail.
Green is not the favourite colour of sailors. Those who are superstitious won't have it on board. I am going to be open minded about it (scratch a stay, turn three times and may the Lord and Saints preserve us). If, after it is rigged, we get another run of bad luck, it can always be thrown over the side.
Many seafarers, especially fishermen, have a problem with bunnies too, to the extent that even the word 'rabbit' has been substituted with terms such as 'underground racehorse' and 'four legger'. That'll be a difficult call for us I'm afraid, what with Sin already measured up for his new lifejacket and gearing up for a bit of helming this year.
Back to halyards. The reason for splicing rope, is that it remains a lot stronger than if it's tied onto something with a knot such as a bowline. It's done by interweaving strands, with the help of the dangerous looking tools below. The spliced end is then joined to the sail with a shackle.
I've not always been a fan of shackles.
A couple of years ago, we were sailing into Cowes, on our way up river to meet some friends at the Folly, a nice pub that has moorings outside and obligatory dancing on the tables on Saturday nights.
During the trip, the wind had been getting up somewhat. Actually, it was howling through the rigging by the time we had crossed the Solent, the boom was dragging in the water and we were clocking an impressive ten knots on the log.
As we entered the river Medina, she stonked on (ignoring the six knot speed limit, which is meant for engine speed really). Blasting past the Royal Yacht Squadron, we realised that the sails needed to come down, quickly. There was no stopping otherwise.
Down came the main, with a moments wrestle ,whilst it tried to throw me over the guard rails and on went the sail ties. Difficult job done, I staggered onto the foredeck to bring the jib down, whilst the boat leapt around in a sterling effort to get as much water in my face as possible.
Just I was ready to shout over to Fur to let the halyard go, so as to bring the sail down, PING went the shackle.
I spent the next five minutes brawling with the sail, trying to get it onto the deck, whilst dodging a rope with a large metal pendulum attached, that was swinging and lurching at my head.
As though it couldn't get worse (my knees were also battered by now), it shot up the mast, stopping only as shackle was halted by sheave.
Drama over. Work ahead. Retrieving the blasted thing was going to be difficult but not impossible. A couple of boat hooks lashed together and some effing and blinding thrown in for luck and we got the rope back and tied it onto the sail with a BOWLINE.

We arrived at the Folly looking bedraggled and wet, but faster than your hat.

I can tie a bowline

Splicey stuff

Cat's Cradle