Well, not impossible to capsize an O'DAY 20, but HIGHLY unlikely! 400# of lead in the keel will usually keep her upright. I suspect it would take a strong superfast gust of wind plus a big wave hitting the boat broadside to capsize her, again... not impossible to capsize but highly unlikely! The 20 is "self-righting" and from experience with similar boats, she should develop enough "weather helm" (tendency of the boat to turn into the wind) if pushed that she will try to round up into the wind instead of capsize. OH ,and now you see why ALCORT later added a "daggerboard retention line" to all of their boats, it was a light line that prevented the DB from floating away if dropped overboard or if it came loose in a capsize.
I have been out on my 192 in very gusty NW winds, and on a NW wind day at our lake, there's usually a big lift associated with the big gusts.
So one day I was sailing with full sail, close hauled W on the lake on starboard tack, and a big lifting gust comes. Normally I hang on to the tiller, and don't let her round up, anticipating a bit of "toe rail washing." This particular gust was big enough, lifted enough that I was WAY over-trimmed being close hauled, and long enough that I looked down from what appeared a very high height on the high side, to see water pouring in over the cockpit coaming. Luckily I finally started to head up, and the boat came upright with a wet seat. Of course, that's the side of the boat with the lazarette that opens clean through to the cabin, and I didn't have drop boards in.
Rather than tuck in a reef, I waited until the seat was dry enough to tack around, and headed back home figuring I'd had enough sailing for the day. Luckily that area was where the gusts are strongest on a NW day, so I didn't see any more gusts that big. If she had laid down much more for too much longer, water may have poured in the lazarette, which is not a good thing.
A couple years ago down on the Cheasapeake Bay in the Annapolis area, there was a Precision 18 that went out in late March, I think, on a very windy day. The boat sank, and one of the 3 people died of hypothermia. It probably got blown over on starboard tack, and the port side lazarette filled, and the people probably clung to the boat, keeping her on her side, and the cabin filled through that lazarette, and it sunk.
So one day I was sailing with full sail, close hauled W on the lake on starboard tack, and a big lifting gust comes. Normally I hang on to the tiller, and don't let her round up, anticipating a bit of "toe rail washing." This particular gust was big enough, lifted enough that I was WAY over-trimmed being close hauled, and long enough that I looked down from what appeared a very high height on the high side, to see water pouring in over the cockpit coaming. Luckily I finally started to head up, and the boat came upright with a wet seat. Of course, that's the side of the boat with the lazarette that opens clean through to the cabin, and I didn't have drop boards in.
Rather than tuck in a reef, I waited until the seat was dry enough to tack around, and headed back home figuring I'd had enough sailing for the day. Luckily that area was where the gusts are strongest on a NW day, so I didn't see any more gusts that big. If she had laid down much more for too much longer, water may have poured in the lazarette, which is not a good thing.
A couple years ago down on the Cheasapeake Bay in the Annapolis area, there was a Precision 18 that went out in late March, I think, on a very windy day. The boat sank, and one of the 3 people died of hypothermia. It probably got blown over on starboard tack, and the port side lazarette filled, and the people probably clung to the boat, keeping her on her side, and the cabin filled through that lazarette, and it sunk.
I spent a lot of time under the cockpit of my sunfish that had turned turtle. But my time was spent making out with the girl with me. I think my time was spent better than your time.
Did I mention that those initial steps in sailing were in a lagoon in Pensacola, FL. After the class I was up on the dock and noticed a sign stating that swimming was prohibited due to the possibility of alligators in the lagoon. Typical MWR facility...
We had no alligators in Wateree Lake. But very few of the girls sailed with me a second time.
Back in my UF days, I took a date out to Lake Wauburg for some Sunfish sailing. We tipped over numerous times, of course, and we were having a great time. Or maybe it was just me. At one point, she decided that she had enough climbing back in the boat and was pouting a bit and demanding help. Well, I don't reward pouting and anyway I knew that if I were to try to pull her up, we'd tip the boat back over. So I feigned a move toward her, then shifted my gaze several yards behind her, widened my eyes, and exclaimed, "It IS an alligator!" I've never seen anybody elevate out of water so fast as that gal did that day.
There were alligators in Lake Wauburg back then, probably still. Another date, another girl, this time in a canoe, we paddled out to gator habitat and that prompted a welcoming visit. I don't know if he was super-aggressive or just clumsy, but that gator knocked that canoe hard enough to scare the crap out of both of us and triggered some Olympic-speed paddling back to the dock.
There were alligators in Lake Wauburg back then, probably still. Another date, another girl, this time in a canoe, we paddled out to gator habitat and that prompted a welcoming visit. I don't know if he was super-aggressive or just clumsy, but that gator knocked that canoe hard enough to scare the crap out of both of us and triggered some Olympic-speed paddling back to the dock.
Sometimes a frog can be mistaken for a gator.
We sailed in to Cedar Key, when I was a kid. Deciding it was a hot day, we jumped in at the public pier for a swim. Three kids with fishing poles gawked at us as we swam by. My father, wanting to be friendly, asked them, "what are you fishing for?"
One of the kids managed to collect himself enough to answer as he and his friends looked down over the railing at us paddling past, "Sharrrks." He intoned.
- Will (Dragonfly)
My wife and were excited to kayak on Second Mill pond here in Sumter. People told us about the alligators. So I told them I didn’t have to paddle faster than the alligator. I just had a paddle faster than my wife. When I pointed out the alligator while we were kayaking I learned that I had to paddle faster than the alligator after all. I had no idea dust would come up from a kayak. Or that she could create a wake.
Decades ago, I was sailing my Hobie 16 out by the Flori-Bama. I had a buddy with me, his first time sailing. In my pre-sail briefing, I told him that when we got one hull flying that he would feel like we were going to capsize, BUT do NOT jump off the boat and if you break that rule, make sure you fall back, never jump forward. Well, the readers of this little tale can guess what happened. Yes, he panicked, jumped into the sail, dinged his knee on the boom, cut his leg on the shroud, and caused the boat to capsize. No sooner than he was clear from the rigging, a jellyfish stung his leg. He propelled himself back toward the boat at Mach 2 and even though I ordered him to swim around and climb up from the bottom side, he tried climbing up the top, causing the boat to turtle, whereby he went back into the water and suffered another jellyfish sting on the same leg.
I'll spare you the details of me trying to re-right the boat with a freaked-out and uncooperative passenger who wanted to just sit on the inverted hull to wait for the Coast Guard, but the end of the story is when we got back to the beach, I offered to pee on his leg. And that's when the fight started.
The first time I took my wife, born and raised in NH (never been anywhere except Vermont.), to Florida, she kept asking me during the whole drive down, "How warm is the water?"
I answered, "You know when you draw yourself a bath and you get that temperature just perfect and you can relax in the tube forever?"
"Ah huh!?" She'd prompt.
"That's it, that's how warm it is."
"NO IT'S NOT!"
"Just wait and see."
We stopped in St. Augustine, on the way to Clearwater.
"This is warm, but it's not bath water." She told me smugly, while enjoying the St. Augustine beach.
"We're on the wrong coast, just be patient."
Clearwater Beach.
"This IS like bath water. I'm too hot. I want to get out.
That's not really the story, but it was on the same trip. The story is, me introducing her to SCUBA diving in Siesta Key. Eight feet of water off the sea wall next to the marina. We were doing great, then one of the upside down jellyfish lifted off the bottom and started to swim away. Linda realised it wasn't sea grass we were gliding over and she shifted to turn around and go back. She grabbed me to facilitate her spin and I grabbed her to keep from being pushed down into the jellyfish. We ended up doing a radical aquatic ballet tumble above the mat of filtering tentacles and causing a great vortex that lifted all the upside down jellyfish off the bottom and spun them like yarn around the skeen we represented.
I knew I'd married the right person when she didn't blame me for the next 48 hours of PAIN!
- Will (Dragonfly)
I answered, "You know when you draw yourself a bath and you get that temperature just perfect and you can relax in the tube forever?"
"Ah huh!?" She'd prompt.
"That's it, that's how warm it is."
"NO IT'S NOT!""Just wait and see."
We stopped in St. Augustine, on the way to Clearwater.
"This is warm, but it's not bath water." She told me smugly, while enjoying the St. Augustine beach.
"We're on the wrong coast, just be patient."
Clearwater Beach.
"This IS like bath water. I'm too hot. I want to get out.That's not really the story, but it was on the same trip. The story is, me introducing her to SCUBA diving in Siesta Key. Eight feet of water off the sea wall next to the marina. We were doing great, then one of the upside down jellyfish lifted off the bottom and started to swim away. Linda realised it wasn't sea grass we were gliding over and she shifted to turn around and go back. She grabbed me to facilitate her spin and I grabbed her to keep from being pushed down into the jellyfish. We ended up doing a radical aquatic ballet tumble above the mat of filtering tentacles and causing a great vortex that lifted all the upside down jellyfish off the bottom and spun them like yarn around the skeen we represented.
I knew I'd married the right person when she didn't blame me for the next 48 hours of PAIN!
- Will (Dragonfly)