Dead Stop
It’s cold outside. Real cold. Not cold enough that the water freezes – thank goodness! But cold enough that I don’t want to be on the water.
I had an anemometer installed by the marina 2 years ago (found the receipt – it had been that long ago!). But they never connected it to the gauges. I’d called in someone else to come take care of the final steps, but that person never showed up. So for another year, I waited for the marina to get around to it. They didn’t. So I found someone else to do it. This month. In winter. When it’s cold outside.
Well, we found a week when it wasn’t miserable.
I motored the boat to their location, not far off the marina property, docked it and left it for the repair. Then I came the next day, when the repair was done, to return the boat to its slip. As I started to pull away, the engine died, so I pulled back over and tied up again with just one line. I got the engine going and backed up again. The line fell in the water and I thought, “I need to go take care of that.” But at that point, I was drifting towards another boat, felt that was more important, and forgot about the line in the water.
I proceeded to my slip, everything going fine now, until I turned a corner. Then the engine died. At this point I’ve forgotten about the line in the water, so I think it’s engine problems and I try to restart. I do find it odd that I can’t move the throttle back to the neutral position.
Engine won’t start, and I’m too far away from my slip to pull myself in. I’m starting to drift to the other side. So I grab a line and the boat hook and a line, hoping to catch a cleat on the other side. I get the line on the boat hook, move it to the cleat, but can’t catch it before I drift again, this time to the seawall. I pull myself along the seawall until I reach the slips again. I can’t see how I can pull myself to my own slip, so I work on maneuvering the boat into the closest slip, one that’s a bit too small for the boat.
I leave the boat.
I return a few days later to see how things are doing. I haven’t been plugged into power, so the bilge pump has stopped working. It’s rained over the days I’ve been gone, and I have a leaky porthole. I don’t think that much water can get in, though.
I was wrong. There are about 3″ of water over the floorboards.
I grab the hand pump and start pumping out water. It goes way too slowly. I go over to the marina office and explain the situation, asking if they can bring over their portable bilge pump to pump out the boat. They do. They also bring an extension cord so we can get the boat plugged into power. After discussion, however, we just plug me into the neighbor’s box. He hasn’t used power in awhile and I just say that I’ll pay his power bill for that month.
Two months later, and we finally pull the boat out of the water. The line has wrapped around the prop shaft and the strut tightly. Ryan from the marina unwraps it and the shaft goes back into the boat 2″. He tries to put the boat back in the water and the shaft seal is leaking. So he pulls it back out again.
And that’s where we are today, waiting for a new shaft seal to be installed. Waiting for my engine mechanic to give the thumbs up that I didn’t damage anything on the engine. And waiting for weather warm enough to fix the gelcoat from the last adventure.
Labor Day Storm
Labor Day Storm
I was planning on sailing across the Chesapeake Bay, from Yorktown to Cape Charles over Labor Day weekend to raft up with some friends. I’d checked Predict Wind and breezes we’re expected to be about 15 knots. My boat laughs at such weather, so I wasn’t worried. I had my 2 granddaughters along. They’ve been on the boat since they were infants. I had plenty of snacks (the most important consideration) and electronic entertainment, and they did fine playing in the cabin. So we headed out.
We started out well. I’d put out the mainsail and was getting some help from that, and we were doing about 5 to 6 knots. As we left the York River and headed into the channel towards the Bay however, the wind did it’s usual thing: it was on our nose, so the sails would do not good.
Leaving the York River and heading east, we have to keep to the channel long enough to get past the shallows coming off of the Mobjack Bay. So we kept on our course, still making good time. As we entered the Bay, however, the winds picked up and so did the waves. I checked the NOAA buoy nearby and it swore those waves I was seeing were under 2 foot. Seemed higher, based on how bumpy the ride was getting. But what do I know?
As we entered the Bay, we started slowing down. Now I’m aware that part of the energy is going into getting over the waves. But still: we slowed from 5 – 6 knots down to 3½ at full throttle. My boat can do 7 or 8 usually, so that was disheartening.
Of course, things started falling. Everything that wasn’t secured in the cabin was eventually on the floor. The girls were getting nauseous, so I told them to come up to the cockpit when they felt that way.
Mind you, my 5 and 7 year old granddaughters were troopers. They never panicked. They did ask about how bumpy it was getting and I told them the waves really weren’t that big. Note to self: we need to go to Virginia Beach and talk about really big waves.
When we reached the point where we past the shallows, I decided to do some sailing with just the jib and, to pick up some speed. It worked. Putting the jib out, we made 6.5 knots.
The waves were about 2 feet now, and stuff continued to fall. We were getting pretty far north of where we’re wanted to be, so I tacked. My speed immediately dropped back to about 3.5 knots. So I said to heck with it, brought in the jib, and just motored directly towards our destination.
And then the real fun began. I heard a big sounds, like metal scraping. I assumed something else had fallen below. When I looked towards the bow, however, I saw that one of my anchors had fallen in. I put the engine in neutral and went forward to tie off the anchor. I tried to pull it up. But between the wind and the waves, I couldn’t make it budge. I texted my friends and told them what happened, that we were probably stopped for the night. I called my husband, who asked if my Towboat insurance would help. I said we would be fine. The grandkids were ok and the boat could handle worse than this.
But the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I should subject the grandkids to this adventure. So I used the app to call Towboat and asked them to send someone out.
While we wait for the Towboat, I heat up dinner for the grandkids, who are still fine. I tell them the boat now looks like their bedroom. My older granddaughter tells me they have paths through the mess in their bedroom to walk through.
My oldest is able to eat most of her dinner. The youngest isn’t that hungry; most of her plate is sacrificed to the wind gods as well. What she does eat is in the commode before morning.
The first boat that came out, I explained the problem and asked for help getting the anchor up. He said he wasn’t allowed on the boat, but he could lift it onto his boat so I could haul it in. He went to where the line entered the water, then, for some reason, moved closer to my boat. Then somehow, he got the line between his boat and his motor. Then started shouting at me to cut the line. I went below to get something, came back to the bow, and cut my anchor line.
Towboat guy then asked if I was ok to motor out, since he could only tow me at 2 knots. Since I’d be going downwind, I said, ‘yes’.
But the story doesn’t end there. Within 10 minutes of starting the engine, the warning light went off. I called Towboat guy back and he returned. I got out a boat hook to grab lines from him. He threw them to me on the windward side. I dropped the boat hook grabbing for them, and it fell in the water. I put the lines on the the two forward cleats. That took a bit of time in this weather.
Once I told them they were in place, he began to move forward. Then he called me saying the lines had wrapped around my keel, so let them loose.
Oh, forgot to mention: I have (had) 2 anchors. When I cut the line for the one, Mr. Towboat pulled the second, which had started falling, and put it on the wrong side roller. He told me to pull that one up and secure it. Couldn’t be done. I couldn’t move it over, and I couldn’t pull it any further up. So I just secured it above the water line.
Back to our story. Mr. Towboat is still yelling that I need to secure the other anchor and that one of his lines is still attached to my boat and if don’t release it, he’s just going to pull whatever it’s attached to. I can’t see any lines still attached and tell him so.
Now think about it. By throwing the lines to me on the windward side, there’s every possibility that one of them slid under the boat while I was trying to secure them.
Oh, second boat hook was lost pulling his line off my anchor. When I released the line, there was a strong tug on the boat hook and I couldn’t get it back. Two boat hooks and an anchor gone now.
Mr. Towboat tells me another boat is coming to tow me. He can’t move my big boat on this weather. And he wonders why a small craft advisory wasn’t put out.
My boat is 34′ long. 12′ wide. It’s not a ‘small craft’. I’ve looked it up. It’s sailed down to the Caribbean before, so it’s handled worse than this.
Back, again, to our story.
While we wait for the second Towboat, I send the girls to bed. I explain to my older granddaughter that their berth is the safest place to be: all the walls are padded and soft, and there’s nothing to fall in there. I cuddled with them for awhile and we read the book that my younger granddaughter created in class last week.
I go back above. I pull out a line and go forward again. I tie the line to the chain on the anchor, then secure it to the cleat. I lower the chain enough that I can move the anchor to the right roller. I release the line and pull the anchor up and secure it.
Mind you. This is all happening while the boat is rocking from side to side. And, of course, now it’s rocking more than it was. We are adrift and floating broadside to the waves and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m not lowering another anchor and chancing losing it as well.
After about ½ an hour, I go to sit below and watch the girls. They are fast asleep. None of this is bothering them at all.
It takes about 2 more hours for the other boat to arrive. When they do, they tell me they can’t tow me to my home marina – too difficult to get through the narrow channel in this weather. They’ll take me to another marina tonight, then come in the morning to take me to my own marina.
Ah! A fact I forgot. I started this whole endeavor at about 2 in the afternoon. It’s now about 10 pm.
Anyway, new Towboat gets close enough that they can give me the lines on the leeward side (smart move, huh!). I attach them and we’re on our way – at 6 knots.
We finally get to the marina at about midnight. I thank the new Towboat folks. I pour myself a stiff drink, have some celery and hummus and go to sleep about 2 am.
The next morning, new Towboat folks come by. They ask me for the line from the other Towboat. I say I don’t have one. They say the first Towboat said he saw his line under my stern. I said I let the one line I saw still attached go. Sigh!
I’m towed back to my own marina. I tell the second Towboat I’m going to have my boat hauled out to see what may still be wrapped underneath, since I don’t want to start the engine until the mechanic is there. I hope I don’t find a line wrapped around my prop.
So…..
Lost my anchor. Lost 2 boat hooks. Lost my phone over the side when I was rearranging cushions through this. The engine has an issue. Oh, and the stove wouldn’t light in the morning.
Lessons learned? When I saw the stiff winds I’d be sailing in, I should have bowed out since I was carrying precious cargo. Or turned around when it got rough, since I’d be traveling downwind at that point. Or just stayed anchored since what we went through was no worse than what we’d have had just sitting in that one spot all night. The anchors should have had the type of tie-down usually reserved for hurricane weather.
But hey! When you go adventuring, you either have a good time or a good story. And this one was a doozy!
[Top]Christmas Sailing
One of the joys of sailing in the Chesapeake Bay Area is that there are few times during the year when you can’t sail. Hence, sailing on Christmas Day has been something I’ve done almost as long as I’ve owned a boat. This year, I was a day off. Christmas Day, high gusts were expected. Since my passengers were going to be my young granddaughters, I chose to wait a day.
I’ve missed this. Between my husband’s cancer, engine issues, and wonky weather, I’ve sailed this year less than any year except last.
Winds are perfect, about 10-12 it’s. Temperature, with wind chill, is chilly, but not unbearable. I’m listening to my podcasts, which I never seem to have the time to catch up with. But they’re just background noise; I’m not paying really close attention.
I’ve brought some of my instruments along, but haven’t broken them out yet. Problem is that this chilly weather will make it hard to keep them in tune.
So I listen to my podcasts, the engine, the water lapping against the boat. And sometimes I turn off everything electomechanical and just listen to the water.
It’s calming. I’m hoping I will leave, as I have so many times before, better to handle the stresses onshore.
[Top]My First Raft-Up: Part Deux
A sailboat, a cabin cruiser and a power boat met in a bar….
Well, not really. But they did get together for Labor Day weekend to raft up in Mobjack Bay. This is part 2 of our story.
As you recall from part 1, I did a lot of maneuvering after I got the anchor down, trying to get the sailboat parked next to the cabin cruiser, which was already anchored. So getting the anchor up took a lot of time, because there was a lot more line laid out than was really necessary. In fact, I’m glad there wasn’t much current or winds while were were there. Because it seems were were just relying on the cruiser’s anchor. The good thing? That anchor had set well, so it took a bit to get it up.
After we got the anchor up, we started following the cruiser, who had a destination in mind. From the East River, our current anchorage, to the Severn, our new anchorage, it was almost straight across the bay. We kept behind the cruiser about 2/3rds the way across. Then they got ahead of us. No problem. We had a good idea where they were going to be – we thought. This time, though, we had Jodi’s husband marked on Google Maps. So we found the cruiser.
This time, we set the anchor and let out enough line to put us able to swing towards the cruiser. And I just floated over. Piece of cake!
I later did check for other ways of doing this. Other people suggested that you just needed to have one boat anchored. Still others suggested that you get rafted up, then send someone out on a dinghy with your anchor and set it. I’ll have to try one of those next time.
Rafting up was easy. What I did have a problem with was the kayak. I’d towed it behind us on the way over, rather than deflate then re-inflate it. But maneuvering to get us rafted up, I got the line wrapped around the rudder. So I put on my swimsuit and jumped in the water. Luckily, I have long legs and could reach with my feet to the other side of the keel. I pulled, then used my toes to pull the line from between the keel and the boat, pulled some more, and kept this up until I had the line untangled. Next time, I’ll pull the kayak in tight before starting to anchor.
After we got all set up, Maria said she was running low on ice. In addition, the power boat needed more gas. So we found the number for the nearby marina, called to make sure they’d still be open, then headed over to Severn Yachting Center. The owner met us, got us the gas we needed then took us over to the office to pay for it and get the ice.
There was a pool right outside the office. Maria, Steve and Jodi took a quick dip an said it was wonderful. We talked to the guy about what repair services he had available since it seemed everyone was still behind in repair work, even this late in the season. Sounded like he had a pretty well-rounded crew. But he, too, said he had about a 2 week waiting list. We might just have to check him out sometime!
That night was rough. We must not have pulled the boats as tightly together as we had the night before, because I kept feeling the banging of fenders throughout the night. I moved from the V-Berth into the aft bed and I could finally get some sleep!
In the morning, the fridge, again, was not working. Seems we again had run the battery down. Doing some diagnostics and getting that fixed was put on my list of ‘to do’ items.
What was working was the hot water! I had a marvelous shower. And the nice thing about this quick trip is that I could have a leisurely one and not worry about water shortage.
After showering and providing the ‘neighbors’ with hot water for tea and coffee, I packed up and got ready to head back. Once I was done, Steve jumped aboard to help with the anchor. Jodi started up the power boat and followed. Once the anchor was up, Jodi pulled up beside the swim platform and Steve jumped over.
I debated taking the ‘shortcut’ back. The shortcut allows you to get from Mobjack to the York River without going around all the shallows between the two. But the channel is quite shallow and I didn’t want to take the chance of getting stuck. So I put up the mainsail and motorsailed back.
The trip back was uneventful until I reached the power plant that marks the channel to Wormley Creek Marina. There, I saw a huge number of dolphins! It’s always fun to see a dolphin when sailing. But it must be baby season because there were more than a dozen of the creatures having a good ole’ time!
My First Raft-Up
This Labor Day weekend, I participated in my first raft up. We were a strange group: one sailboat, one cabin cruise, one small speedboat, and a kayak. We came over in the sailboat and cruiser. The speedboat was our ‘dinghy’. I was hoping, in the future, to use the kayak as my dinghy. I wanted to see how it would work out.
I met the others in the York River. Jodi wanted to come with me, since I was planning on sailing. So we tried to figure out how to get her from the cruiser over to my sailboat. I suggested she get on their raft and I could ‘rescue’ her. So Jodi hopped on the raft, I circled so I could get close enough to throw her a line. She grabbed it and I pulled her to the swim platform where she jumped aboard.
The cruiser towed the powerboat, and was able to use a ‘shortcut’ to reach our destination on the East River, off the Mobjack Bay. I sailed around the long way and am glad I did. The winds were great the the temperature was perfect. Interesting though: we arrived only about an hour after the cruiser.
We had a hard time finding the cruiser when we arrived. We’d been given the wrong mile marker to look for. But they brought the powerboat out to find us and guide us in.
I read an article online telling how to raft up so I’d have some idea what to do. So I arrived and, as the article said, I motored past the cruiser, dropped my anchor, the reversed to set the anchor and sidle up to the cruiser. Well, the anchor set. But I was on the wrong side for reversing and sidling. I kept going the wrong direction. So I tried going forward and doing it again, all the time my anchor is down and Jodi is letting out line. Well, I don’t know how much line we let out, but we finally did end up next to the cruiser.
Mistake one: letting out all the line. The next night I just drifted back and we had no problem sidling up to the other boat.
What did go right? Well, luckily our free boards were close enough that the fenders were not an issue. And we didn’t have problems stepping from one to the other. We did pull the sterns in, not the bows, as etiquette prescribed, since we are good friends. I’m not sure how we would have handled bow to bow, since the cruiser’s bow is higher than mine. And my lifelines in the front are difficult to detach, so walking across would have been problematic.
Another thing that went right is that Maria, the owner of the cruiser had done this before and knew to pull the lines in tight. That proved quite helpful when the powerboats in the vicinity sped on by, causing waves. Our boats weren’t banging hard against the fenders.
The temperatures were perfect that night. The company was great, and the food and drinks were delicious.
The next morning, I was up at 6 am. Everyone on the other boat was still asleep. I had brought yogurt and fruit for my breakfat. So I reached into the fridge and, lo and behold, the fridge wasn’t cooling. The ice in the tray had melted. I looked at the battery gauge and it showed less than 10 volts on the charge. The lights were still working. But the higher amp items, like the fridge were not.
I did have issues with the batteries the day before. After we’d been sailing for a few hours, the lights on the console began to flicker. I’d seen this before and knew that the batteries were running low. So I turned on the engine to charge the batteries back up.
I’d had this issue in the not too distant past. After finally becoming frustrated enough, I pulled out the battery meter and found one of the house batteries was dead. I’d replaced it and no more problems. Did my current issue mean the second house battery was now dead? Guess I’ll need to take a look.
So now, I finished my breakfast then tried to turn the engine on. No clicks. Was it the starter battery that was the problem?
More on the electrical set up on my boat. I don’t have a switch; I have 3 handles. I have not done anything with those handles. But a conversation with Maria from pointed to the fact that I should disengage the starter battery when anchoring to ensure I had a charge to start the engine later. I filed away that useful but of info.
Again, I’d seen this before. I’d thought maybe I was out of fuel. And, indeed, the next day when I put in fresh diesel, it started right away. But when I later tried filling the tank, the 20 gallon tank only took 6 gallons. So no answer there.
A fellow boater at the marine had suggested tapping on the solenoid, that it might have a loose connection. So I talked with Jodi, a whiz at electronics, and asked her to show me where the solenoid was. She figured that out, we tapped it, and the engine started. Batteries charged again, I was in good shape.
Maria and Jodi noticed the tea I’d also make myself and asked if I could heat them some water, too. They had an electric stove on the cruiser, which required getting the generator started to work. I had a propane stove that was much easier to light and use. So I heated water for them, as well as for Maria’s husband, CT.
After this very leisurely morning, air blew up my kayak. I have a Sea Eagle kayak that ai love. It’s quite sturdy for a blow up kayak, and it takes up a small enough space when deflated that I can transport it in the back of my car.
I got it inflated and was disappointed to see I’d not included the skeg. Ah well! Paddling would be harder. But it proved not to be. This is rated for 3 people, but 2 adults fit in in comfortably. I sat in the front so I could also play with the sail. And I had no problems steering it. I did, however, order a new skeg when I got home.
Later, I put the kayak away and we took the power boat to try going into the nearby town of Matthews.
We had talked before about taking the kayak over. I’m glad we didn’t: it proved to be further than we had anticipated. We went during high tide, since we were told it wouldn’t be passable otherwise. As we approached the town, however, it was too shallow for the power boat and we started kicking up mud. Jodi, who was being pulled in a raft, helped turn us around and move to deeper water, and we headed back. Mission to accomplished. But we did get a nice view of the rest of the river.
We played for a bit more when we got back, then decided it was time to start moving to our next destination, in the Severn River, on the other side of the bay.
More on day 2 and the rest of the trip in the next post.
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