... of your worst or most embarrassing sailing escapade?
Here is mine.
It was 1997. I had recently purchased a project 1974 Magregor V21. I cleaned up the interior, painted the exterior (except for the keel -- this becomes important later) and had run all new rigging. The keel looked to be in decent shape but there were a few cracks in the fiberglass casing. I decided to leave that for a winter project.
I was very happy with the results and we planned a 4-day weekend at Kiptopeke State Park on Cape Charles, VA, right at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay.
If you are not familiar with Kiptopeke, the launch site is protected by a breakwater made from sunken battle ships. There is an EconoLodge across the highway and a place where you can dry dock your boat on the trailer at night right in the state park.
The first two days were great! We stayed at a hotel across the road and dry docked the boat at the park. Each day we would sail out into the bay for a wonderful time. I even pulled a small tube with one of my kids sitting in it. And the little Mac was really performing well.
Around 3:00 PM on the third day, a nasty squall line formed to my west so I decided to head in a little early. As I sailed through the gap between the two ships, I dropped my main and was cruising in on jib only. I was showing off a bit (1st mistake). I got within 50 feat of the dock and doused the jib and had enough headway to coast in and I put the tiller in my wife's hand while I winched up my keel. Moments before we were able to grab the corner of the dock, a fishing boat punched out and its wake knocked my bow 90 degrees and I was now being blown along the coast northbound.
The squall line was getting close and the wind was starting to pick up. I decided I would drop the keel raise the jib and make a quick turn around before the storm hit but my keel was wedged in the keel trunk. The salt water had gotten in the cracks of the fiberglass shell around my keel and the keel had swollen. I could not sail and was now rapidly slipping towards Maryland. I tried jumping up and down in the cockpit to dislodge the keel. I suspect I looked like a lunatic but you do what you can. Unfortunately that did not work. So I fired up the outboard only to have it suddenly stop... yep! I had wrapped the jib sheet around the prop but I did not know that yet. I thought my ancient O.B. had picked this moment to die. Now I'm starting the panic. My kids are in the boat, lightening is flashing close by and I have little control of the boat. The best I was able to do under sail is point high enough to keep me off of the shore. I'm rapidly being blown north
I am now about a mile from the launch site when I decide to beach the boat and take my chances. I did not want to be caught in the boat with my kids, this close to shore when the squall line hit. We get to a rocky shore and I am able to fend off the boat (mostly) but the waves are making it hard. I get my family on shore and they start walking back to the truck along the shore. Then the storm hit. A local fishing boat came close and tried to toss me a tow line but the waves were getting rough and he would not chance it any longer and he took off.
I spend about three more hours walking the boat along the shore trying to keep the waves from bashing the hell out of her against the rocky shore and trying to keep my shins from getting caught between the boat and the rocks.
I WAS WEARING FLIP FLOPS.
I nearly lost the boat that day.
I eventually get the boat back to the launch. The bottom is now in need of some fiberglass work and I had opened up a few seems in the bottom so I'm taking on a little water. Shy shins are bleeding, my feet are cut and my wife and kids are soggy but in the end... we were mostly okay. All-in-all, it was NOT a show of good seamanship.
The next week, I lofted the boat, dropped and resurfaced keel, repaired the gouges and repainted the bottom. For some strange reason, my family still likes to go on the boat with me. I'm guessing they did not realize how scared I was as the squall line approached or that may have been our last outing in the boat together.
I learned a lot that day...!
Well that is my story
Here is mine.
It was 1997. I had recently purchased a project 1974 Magregor V21. I cleaned up the interior, painted the exterior (except for the keel -- this becomes important later) and had run all new rigging. The keel looked to be in decent shape but there were a few cracks in the fiberglass casing. I decided to leave that for a winter project.
I was very happy with the results and we planned a 4-day weekend at Kiptopeke State Park on Cape Charles, VA, right at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay.
If you are not familiar with Kiptopeke, the launch site is protected by a breakwater made from sunken battle ships. There is an EconoLodge across the highway and a place where you can dry dock your boat on the trailer at night right in the state park.
The first two days were great! We stayed at a hotel across the road and dry docked the boat at the park. Each day we would sail out into the bay for a wonderful time. I even pulled a small tube with one of my kids sitting in it. And the little Mac was really performing well.
Around 3:00 PM on the third day, a nasty squall line formed to my west so I decided to head in a little early. As I sailed through the gap between the two ships, I dropped my main and was cruising in on jib only. I was showing off a bit (1st mistake). I got within 50 feat of the dock and doused the jib and had enough headway to coast in and I put the tiller in my wife's hand while I winched up my keel. Moments before we were able to grab the corner of the dock, a fishing boat punched out and its wake knocked my bow 90 degrees and I was now being blown along the coast northbound.
The squall line was getting close and the wind was starting to pick up. I decided I would drop the keel raise the jib and make a quick turn around before the storm hit but my keel was wedged in the keel trunk. The salt water had gotten in the cracks of the fiberglass shell around my keel and the keel had swollen. I could not sail and was now rapidly slipping towards Maryland. I tried jumping up and down in the cockpit to dislodge the keel. I suspect I looked like a lunatic but you do what you can. Unfortunately that did not work. So I fired up the outboard only to have it suddenly stop... yep! I had wrapped the jib sheet around the prop but I did not know that yet. I thought my ancient O.B. had picked this moment to die. Now I'm starting the panic. My kids are in the boat, lightening is flashing close by and I have little control of the boat. The best I was able to do under sail is point high enough to keep me off of the shore. I'm rapidly being blown north
I am now about a mile from the launch site when I decide to beach the boat and take my chances. I did not want to be caught in the boat with my kids, this close to shore when the squall line hit. We get to a rocky shore and I am able to fend off the boat (mostly) but the waves are making it hard. I get my family on shore and they start walking back to the truck along the shore. Then the storm hit. A local fishing boat came close and tried to toss me a tow line but the waves were getting rough and he would not chance it any longer and he took off.
I spend about three more hours walking the boat along the shore trying to keep the waves from bashing the hell out of her against the rocky shore and trying to keep my shins from getting caught between the boat and the rocks.
I WAS WEARING FLIP FLOPS.
I nearly lost the boat that day.
I eventually get the boat back to the launch. The bottom is now in need of some fiberglass work and I had opened up a few seems in the bottom so I'm taking on a little water. Shy shins are bleeding, my feet are cut and my wife and kids are soggy but in the end... we were mostly okay. All-in-all, it was NOT a show of good seamanship.
The next week, I lofted the boat, dropped and resurfaced keel, repaired the gouges and repainted the bottom. For some strange reason, my family still likes to go on the boat with me. I'm guessing they did not realize how scared I was as the squall line approached or that may have been our last outing in the boat together.
I learned a lot that day...!
- I am a fanatic about not dragging lines in the water... don't do it! EVER!
- I always have a closed-toed pair of shoes on board.
- I never take the boat out if any equipment is compromised. If the O.B. is being finicky, I get it fixed. My O.B will start on the second or third pull every time or we service the O.B.
- Although I still like to sail on and off a dock, I have the engine at idle just in case things go wonky.
- I put a stern mounted anchor on all of my boats so I can drop a quick hook and stop my boat close to shore if needed.
Well that is my story