day from hell

[Ken Smith]

I read the posts, night from hell, never had on yet, but I did have a day from hell. I was anchored off shore with waves 3-5 foot and the kids were playing in the sand and swiming. I had the boat anchored and the keel 2/3 down to keep it from swinging side to side, when I noticed the boat turn sideways and start to roll into shore. I knew the anchor rope broke or lost it's grip. I called the kids and raced to the boat, redirected the boat to facing into the waves, we got in and I knew I could'nt use the motor because of the wave conditions. My oldest son 13 at the time I put on the helm as I scrambled on deck with the waves crashing onto us, and attempted to raise the sail only to get it caught and then riped in the shrouds. Now the wind was in the sail and we were sailing along the shore line in shallow water trying to edge our way out into the lake as the waves were hitting the boat sideways and pushing us to shore. 100 yards ahead of us was a brake wall, as if the shore wasn't enough of a problem. We tacked hard into the wind with only the main up part way and no jib. The wind Gods were with us or must have thought we had enough because we made the tack and were able to sail out into the lake to safety. That night sleeping on the boat we had retold the story over and over to each other from each of my 3 boys point of view. To this day any time anyone bring this story up we all get into the story telling mode. Lets hear your day from hell story! Ken

 

[Bob]

None Enchanted Evening

First, Ken, in my view you did real well to save your boat and not get anyone hurt. Often, bad decisions in panic situations lead to injuries. I've had a number of white knuckle sailing moments over the years, usually the result of pushing myself or the equipment a little too far. Your account brought to mind one that happened on a Fourth of July night when my best buddy, Steve, and my daughter, Tristin, sailed down the lake with me to see the fireworks display shortly after sunset in my 18 footer. We beat into a 3-5 kt breeze, and were nearing a small island when Steve started getting edgy about running aground, as the island was to leeward. Though the lake was down, I knew better (the boat only draws 18") and believed we could just ease past the thin water and not have to tack. Right. When I felt the keel bump a couple of times in quick succession I told the crew to slack the jib sheet so as to keep the bow from bearing to leeward, but the command was misunderstood, the sheet remained cleated, and in seconds we were aground. Though the boat moved up and down with the mild chop, it seemed tied to the bottom with bungee cords. No real problem, I just jumped over the side and tried to push the boat off to deeper water. No luck. Tristin came in the water with me and the two of us tried to push off. No luck. Somewhere in there it occurred to me that I had chosen the absolute worst hour of the year to be where I was, because many of the boats that had been anchored watching the fireworks were now on their way back home up the channel and creating constant waves pushing us ashore. Finally, about the time I realised the rudder was hard aground and was what had been holding us the whole time, it broke in half along the line of bolt holes under a pintle strap. Now the boat was free, and I yelled to Steve to get it out into deeper water, and we would wade/swim out to him. Of course the earlier light breeze had increased to a 10 kt wind. Things became more interesting, because the motor was locked in the straight-ahead position (I never used it for steering), and of course the tiller, now attached to only the top third of a rudder, swung freely. "She won't answer the helm, cap'n," was literally true. So Steve was driving the boat with power, but no steering. Not for long, however, as he had not opened the fuel tank vent when he started the motor. It quit, he restarted it, it quit again, you get the picture. I shouted to make sure the tank vent and the carb petcock were open, and in the wind and confusion perhaps half my words reached him. He turned every knob he could find and somehow unlocked the steering pivot, got it to run, steered the boat, and was able to pick us and the rudder-half up after a fair amount of excitement. No one's life was endangered, but our adrenalin was somewhat depleted by the time we got back. We didn't have any back at the cabin, so beer had to be substituted.

 

[Del Wiese]

our trip from hell

A few years ago, in a 1968 Cal 28, we crossed from Florida to the Bahamas with another couple (who amazingly are still friends). We left Lake Worth inlet about 6 pm and were motor sailing due to lack of wind. By 10 pm the wind was building and by midnight we had 30-35 knots out of the north with seas building to 8-10 foot. Heading east, we were on a beam reach with lots of speed. The boat was very wet, about every third wave would slap the side of the boat and the spray would wet the main about a third of the way up. And the two of us in the cockpit got drenced each time. You don't know what wet is until you've been under these kind of conditions. The ladies were down below and thankfully not sea sick. My friend and I were in the cockpit, with PFDs, foul weather gear and harnesses. I tried to go down below several times to plot our course and started to get sick each time. The boat moation was incredible, anyone who believes there are only three degrees of motion on a boat has never been in rough seas! We were towing a hard dingy and somehow it survived the trip. At about 5 am, we got to Memory Rock, the problem was we were early due to making better time than planned, and I was concerned about going on to the Bahama bank in darkness, so I told the crew "we have to reverse course for a while". If they could have made me walk the plank, they would have done it! At daylight we crossed onto the bank and had a delightful (and fast) sail to our anchorage at Great Sail Cay. The rest of the trip was great. Two weeks later when we crossed from Walker's Cay to Ft. Pierce, we motored the whole way. The ocean was smooth and calm, no wind, no waves.