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!
Drunks and Fools
The old saying goes that God always helps fools, lovers and drunkards. Well, someone was watching over me last night and this morning.
As scheduled, we towed the boat back home about 2 a.m. As we were motoring out there, the tow boat operator was suggesting that I might want to haul the boat out and take a look at the keel. It would also be good to call my insurance company, in case they wanted to have a surveyor look at it.
I did call them this morning and they added to the towing report the possibility of damage to the keel. They did ask that the repair work being done show the parts and labor separately. Apparently it would help increase what I might have covered.
So we hauled the boat out. And it looked fine. There was no damage to the keel.
Notice, though, that you can see how far it had sunk into the ground. Nevertheless, I came out lucky.
The fiberglass, however, will require repair:
That was the location of the starboard bow cleat.
I’m not sure how much the repair will be. But either my insurance or Tow Boat US will cover what my deductible doesn’t.
So, to save myself the cost of not hauling it out to clean it, I had to haul it out anyway.
Next time, I guess I’ll just rent a scuba tank.
[Top]Waiting
Five weeks ago, I asked the marina to pull the boat out for spring prep. It was early enough that I hoped to beat the rush of boats also wanting to get ready for a spring launch. I had purchased the boat 6 years ago and, according to what I’d read, the bottom should be stripped. So I asked the marina to do that. They told me that the bottom didn’t need to be stripped. Good news!
So I asked the marina to smooth the bottom and check for blisters. I have little upper body strength and I don’t like spending my time with a 30-lb vacuum sander over my head. I also figured, with the schedule I’ve had lately at work, it would be much faster to have the marina do the work.
That was 5 weeks ago.
We’ve had weather delays. The wife of the guy who was working on it had a baby.
And we had communication errors.
See, when I told them to smooth the bottom, I meant that I thought there were blisters to be taken care of, and the paint was pretty wavy because I’d just been slapping it on. But the head worker thought I meant that I wanted the paint sanded off, so he started to do that.
Now, I don’t know why he did that, especially after he told me that it didn’t need to be stripped. But that’s what he was doing. And that was taking so long, because the paint was on there hard, so they called in someone with – not a sandblaster – but a bead blaster? Anyway, same idea. They stripped the paint.
Well, that did open up any blisters. But it also meant that there would need to be a barrier coat put on. At first I told them I’d take care of that. But as the time went on, I again figured that it would be faster to have them take care of it. But I don’t know. They haven’t even gotten that far.
I stopped by tonight. They have about 2/3rds of the bottom prepped. Meaning that it’s had the filler put on and it’s been sanded smooth. They still have half the keel and all of the rudder to do.
The good news is, I won’t have to have this done for about 10 more years.
Will I have the boat for next week’s race? A week after racing season has started? I hope so!
Stripped boat bottom
Line Back
After last time’s unsuccessful attempt by a Sea Scout to get the jib halyard back on the mast, their Scoutmaster, Mike, offered to do it for me. So, the following weekend, we met and he donned the climbing harness that Liza had used the week before.
I had been concerned about being able to get Mike, or any full-grown adult up the mast, since I don’t have alot of upper body strength and I figured that alot of the physical part of overcoming gravity would need to be done by me and the winch trying to raise Mike on the main halyard. Mike assured me, however, that he could shimmy up the mast to help in the effort.
Well, it didn’t quite work that way. Apparently, my mast was too slick for him to climb. So, like with Liza, he climbed onto the boom so I could get enough slack to get the line through the catch block we had set up and onto the winch to turn it to lift him up.
Mike atop the mast
The job turned out to be much simpler than I thought it would be. Gotta love Newtonian physics in action! There was enough mechanical help from our setup that I had no trouble turning the winch and lifting him up. Mind you, it took alot of turns to get him up – it was a slow job. But it was fairly painless from my perspective.
Not so Mike. He got as far as the shrouds and asked me to stop. I assumed he was tired and needed a break. Luckily, the line was through a clutch, and on my self-tailing winch, so I didn’t have to hold it while he rested. It also made it easier on the climb up because I didn’t have to worry about losing ground.
Once Mike reached the top, it was a quick job to get the line in place. He had pulled the core out of the line and woven the ends back to make a loop that was narrower than the line itself. He then attached a string, and attached the straightened coat hanger to the string. The whole thing went in and he was ready to be lowered in no time.
Lowering Mike down, with that setup, was no problem either. I wrapped the line around a nearby cleat, to give me some leverage, lifted the clutch, pulled the line out of the self-tailer, and started lowering him. Again, it proved to be much easier than I expected.
When Mike got down, he said he’d gotten dizzy when he was up there, which surprised him. That had never happened before. He did take some time to lower his head and get back his equilibrium before pronouncing that this was the last mast he was likely to climb; he was going to leave it to the Sea Scouts from now on.
Mike, after his rest
Climbing the Mast
I discovered last year, when replacing the jib, that the jib halyard was starting to look worn. But the line itself was much longer than I needed, and the rest of it, beyond that top foot, was in really great shape. So this year I asked a friend of mine if he could reweave the eye back in for me. He agreed.
So I attached an extra line to the halyard I wanted to pull down and pulled the new line into place as I pulled the old one down. That way, when the old one was repaired, I only needed to reverse the process to get the old one back into place.
Well, my friend fixed the old one over a weekend, and the next weekend, Erik and I went down to run the halyard back up. It was quite breezy that day, so we decided to wait. We wouldn’t be able to reattach the furler jib, so it seemed a waste of time to mess with the halyard, so I tied the line back up, re-stuffed the jib into the cabin (we’d taken it home and I’d cleaned it off while it was down), and headed home.
So, I must not have tied the line off well. Because the following weekend, when we came by to try again, the line I’d used as a placeholder was neatly coiled on my deck.
So back to my friend I go. He happens to be the scoutmaster for a Sea Scout troop, so I asked if he thought one of his scouts might be willing to climb the mast and replace the halyard. He said he thought so.
So today, I met Liza (the Sea Scout) at the boat with Mike (the scoutmaster). Liza donned a climbing harness that Mike had brought along, rather than the bos’n’s chair I had borrowed. We moved the jib pulley back so it was next to the jib winch and hooked Liza up to the main halyard. We pulled the halyard through the pulley and into the winch and pulled her up the mast.
Liza up the mast
We had sent Liza up with a straightened coat hanger to use as a guide, the halyard, and some painter’s tape, to attach the halyard to the coat hanger.
Liza first had trouble trying to get the coat hanger through. It was apparently not a straight shot. She was doing this from the rear of the mast and finally came around to the front and figured out how it needed to go. She tried again and got it through, after a few more attempts.
Next problem was the tape. The painter’s tape wasn’t strong enough to hold the halyard on to the coat hanger. So we passed her up some duct tape to use instead. This worked, but now she was having trouble pulling the coat hanger back through. The coat hanger had been straightened out. But one of the spirals in it was hanging inside the pulley.
At this point, Liza had been up the mast for an hour, so Mike asked her to come backd own and we’d try again another time.
So now my conundrum. Do I ask Liza or another of the troop to try this again? Do I get one of my experienced buddies, whose more heavy, but would know what they were doing to do it? Do I attempt to do it myself? Or doI pay to have someone at the marina do it?
We’ll see. No hurry. I don’t need to have it done until April when racing season starts.
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