The day before the J/24 crossing fiasco was supposed to be my first day out with the new sails. The whole family was going so we left a bit early to get a head-start on the Wind. The problem was, the Wind started very early that day (subsequent research on SailFlow showed that it was blowing around 20 knots).
We got out of the Marina under power, I had already put the reef in the main, and as we started the initial post-marina rollercoaster ride, I looked over at my wife and realized today was not our day to sail. We did our little circle around the breakwater and back into the marina and I couldn't help but feel like fates were conspiring against me and my new sails. No pictures today.
We got back to the dock and I asked the family to bear with me while I raised the jib just to see what it looked like. I stretched a bit, grabbed the halyard and with one mighty heave, sent the whole frickin' sail up the forestay. Puzzled, it took me a few seconds to realize that the tack was floating poetically about 2 feet above the deck. I had forgotten to shackle the frickin' sail down. And worse yet, all of the D shackles I had on board were too small for the sail.
Far from conspiring against me, Neptune had sent the chop and wind to save me from my own boneheaded self.