Fear

[Tom J]

I don't recall any "fearful" experiences, but we certainly had a lot of "interesting" experiences. Like the time we heard surf breaking as we were heading up the New Jersey coast in the fog. We headed out to sea in time, but the adrenaline was certainly pumping by then. Or the time a big power cruiser cut us off at a drawbridge and almost put us into the fender boards. The old heart was going thump, thump, then, too. Maybe we just didn't have time to be afraid during our "interesting" experiences.

 

[thinwater]

Several high speed crossings, racing performance multihulls. If there is a disagreement concerning give-way, the closing speed can approach 30 knots.

A stupid mistake 40 years ago, when I took a beach cat out in near gale conditions. I didn't realize how strong it was, because the wind was offshore and the hotels were blocking it. I finally took the main down and beat in with just the jib. A one-time only kind of mistake that teaches humility.

 

[Capt. "Crunch"]

TomJ, thank you for making a very good point. Thinking it through, for the towing boat to make a turn to port, it's stern must be free to swing to starboard. A 7000# Tartan secured to my aft port quarter would have impeded my stern's ability to swing, so that wouldn't have worked very well either. I can see where tying up "on the hip" would be the only approach that would work reliably.

 

[GSBNY]

One experience immediately comes to mind for me. Many years ago, it was blowing about 30mph with gusts into the 40’s. Of course, younger me realized these were perfect conditions to take a Vanguard 15 out for a leisurely cruise down the bay. I got my crew and was able to convince someone else to tail us in an old 13’ Boston Whaler.

Both my crew and myself had sailed the V15 many times and knew the quirks of the boat, the biggest one being the dagger board getting stuck in the trunk. Since the bay has some shallow spots we decided we needed to address the board before we went out so my crew “took care of it”.

Before we even raised the sails the boat capsized on the beach while it was on the dolly. This should have been a sign of what was to come but instead it just amped us up more.

So we get the sails up, boat launched, and before we even get a chance to think about it we’re planing with the main flogging. Once we got about 20% control over the boat we were able to outrun our crappy old whaler support boat. That’s when everything went wrong.

First the whaler’s engine cut out and they had trouble restarting it. Then of course, we flipped. Normal capsize procedures began and my crew and myself were going for the daggerboard except when we got to it there was a problem. Turns out my crew completely coated the daggerboard with McLube Sailkote which is impossible to grip when wet. The wind was moving the capsized boat quite quickly down the bay and all I could do was try to keep up swimming and grabbing the board for a second before it slipped out of my hands each time. When I finally had a decent grip on the board I suddenly felt a sharp pull - my crew couldn’t keep up so in order to catch up he grabbed my foot to pull himself along. Unfortunately, he pulled me off the buttery daggerboard and we had to start the boat catching process again.

About 15 min later our support boat caught up to us and about a half hour after that we had the boat righted and headed back home as slowly and cautiously as possible. Just for good measure, the boat flipped again after we got it back on the dolly.

And that was the day I realized that no matter how prepared you think you are, you’re not.

 

[Will Gilmore]

GSBNY, that was a very funny story. I could just picture that daggerboard slipping from your grip and gliding away across the water. kids!

-Will (Dragonfly)

 

[tfox2069]

My first offshore experience was as crew on a Hinckley Sou'west 42 returning from the Bermuda race to Bayshore, NY. Halfway back a hurricane was reported building, and coming up the East Coast. That day we lost our transmission in the Gulf Stream, and winds were light, so there was some consternation we wouldn't be able to outrun the storm. We were putting every turn of speed on that we could, 24 hrs a day - thank goodness it was built and outfitted as a race boat. We finally got to Fire Island Inlet and called for a tow. It was dusk and a nasty thunderstorm appeared right over the inlet. With the hurricane coming up the east coast we couldn't hold offshore until morning when visibility and conditions would've been better, so into Fire Island inlet we went towards the towboat. Coming into the inlet we doused sail as winds grew to gale force, and the towboat tried to hookup in the dark. The skipper sent me (the least experienced sailor aboard) and another guy forward to catch the towing lines (the other guy had rowed across the Atlantic some years previous). I've been through two wars, but being sent forward that night scared the crap out of me even more. Conditions weren't just awful, they were downright terrifying, being caught in the inlet at night during an intense thunderstorm with no means to maneuver, bobbing uncontrollably. Resigned to my fate, I crawled on my hands and knees to the bow while clipped in. John and I sat in the bow holding on as best we could while watching the towboat rise above our bow, and then below it - the waves were probably 10-15 feet. I was envisioning the towboat crashing right on top of us, crushing John and me. The first attempt by the towboat to throw a line resulted in the towline being blown straight back in the face of the crewman tossing it. He then maneuvered upwind, and tossed the towline downwind to us, which we caught after a few tries. John looped his around the port bow cleat, and I around the starboard one. The towline was so thick we couldn't secure it any other way. Multiple times the bow (and us) went under in the face of a wave, lightning and thunder crashing around us, the boat drifting. Finally the towboat was able to take up strain on the towlines, but he couldn't do any more than hold us in position. With nothing else to do I crawled back to the cockpit, while John (a big Irishman) sat on the bow holding tension on both towlines to make sure they didn't come off the cleats. We could hear him singing from the cockpit. After 30 minutes the thunderstorm passed, and we were towed uneventfully to the owner's dock in front of his house, where we cleared customs by phone in the early morning.

 

[DPW]

Too many to count!
1) single handing a Beneteau 43 thru a narrow channel. Winds kicked up to 25 kts and I needed to go up an skirt the jenny, which went well. As I headed back to cockpit I always balance myself on the boom as I hop down. That's when the wedding ring caught the rivet and dislocated my finger, and had to tack immediately! Amazing what you can do with adrenaline. I could see the finger was well out of place but managed to use it enough to tack and avoid grounding. By the time I got to shore the swelling was so bad I could not get the ring off. The real fear was can I keep this from my wife so she will let me keep going out solo? Answer, no. The ER cut the ring off and put the hand in a cast. She didn't buy that I fell on the dock.
2) In mast furling main jammed while trying to reef it 30kt wind, in narrow channel. Every starboard tack would badly weather the helm and near knock the boat down. We missed a large buoy by inches. Finally got it down but motoring in the engine overheated and failed. Called Sea Tow and they said call the office, nobody available! Dropped the anchor, was able to to a temp fix to raw seawater side of cooling system, enough to limp back to the mooring.
3) Caught a lobster pot as we started the motor while pulling the sails in to navigate narrow channel near Canadian border. The float jammed between the prop and hull so engine would not start. Lots of traffic in the channel and current of 6kts or so. Dropped the anchor so now held by the bow, the anchor, and the stern, the lobster pot. Made security call as we were in a channel. Coast Guard asked what I plan to do. I said dive under the boat, remove the buoy and line, get back underway. They said: "do you have diving gear", I said I had mask, fins, and snorkel. They asked if I had a "wet suit" I said "no, shorts and a t-shirt". They asked if I "knew the water was 11-degrees C". I'm not good at the conversion but thought that was ok. They said: "Is there anyone else on the boat we can talk to?" That's when the admiral panicked, "why do they need to talk to me?" I told her: "in case something goes wrong, they just want to know that there is someone else on board." She took the mic and let them know she was onboard. They told her that hypothermia was highly likely. Anyway, went in, understood immediately the conversion I had done was off by a bit. Had tied a sharp knife with a 3' lanyard to my wrist anticipating I would likely drop the knife as the boat was rocking significantly and would hit me about the head and shoulders every time I dove. That's when I came up for air, dropped the knife, and it caught on the prop where I had been cutting. I instantly knew this was what the Coast Guard may have been thinking, in addition to the hypothermia. As luck would have it, between the length of my arm, and the length of the lanyard, I was able to get the snorkel just above the water line and get some air. Twenty minutes later I had freed the boat from the pot but know couldn't really feel much and could not pull myself up out of the water up the swim ladder. Apparently one symptom of hypothermia setting in is euphoria because I couldn't stop laughing, my wife thought I was playing a game, I do that a lot, but I couldn't function. Finally was able to get out, get on the VHF and let the Coast Guard know everything went fine and we will be underway and out of the channel.

 

[kappykaplan]

Very scary!

 

[kappykaplan]

Out on the Chesapeake Bay a few years ago for a day sail with two guests on board, not much wind. Saw a pair of stink pots at high speed coming up from the south. One of 'em was clearly constant bearing, decreasing range. He kept getting closer with no course change. I made the danger signal on the hand-held air horn - no course change. Clearly the dude was on autopilot with no one on the bridge. Did the danger signal again. Finally saw someone on the bridge. He made his course change so close to my boat that we got water over the bow from his wake. The three of us were ready to change our britches. Very scary!

 

[higgs]

It was 16 years for me. We were anchored in Browning Cove in the North Channel when a ferocious thunderstorm rolled in. We knew a storm was coming, but nothing had indicated it would be as strong as it was. I started the engine with the intent of using it to take strain off the rode. When the storm hit our anchor dragged placing the boat broadside to the wind. The rain was so intense I could not see anything and never put the engine in gear since I couldn't tell where I would be going. The next day we motored into Little Current where the local paper had a photo of some boat's wind speed display showing 120 mph. At a nearby boat yard it blew a boat off it's cradle - not boat stands, but a cradle. Another boat was sunk in the nearby Benjamin Islands .Still imprinted on my mind was the last thing I saw before the rain. It was an inflatable spinning in mid air still on its painter off the stern of another anchored boat.

 

[william24424]

Woods Hole current can exceed 3 knots, dotted by red/green buoys like a Christmas tree... get on wrong side and hit rocks. Ferrys, Fishing boats, & fog don't help. Fear each passage.

 

[thinwater]

All my good fear came either rock climbing or bicycle racing, and they came early in my carreer before I learned enough. On boats I've just been tense. Some times darn tense. But mostly I'm too busy processing the situation. I think this comes from years of adventure sports. You learn to "keep the lid on," as we say.

I go climbing to relax.

 

[Simon Sexton]

Some people listen to my stories and don't believe me. "There's no way a 23 year old dude could have this many near-death experiences." But hey, listen, I get bored, okay? High adventure and almost dying at times is what makes me feel most alive! Most recently, I was diving on my new-to-me Hunter 28.5 here in Offatts Bayou, Galveston. I was nervous to begin with, since I've hooked into several HUGE bull sharks here and know for a fact they stick around all through Spring til late Fall. The water here is very odd: In the first four/five feet of water depth, the clarity is actually pretty impressive. Visibility is around six feet on a good day. Once you're below five feet though, good luck seeing anything. Everything goes very dark green real quick. I managed to find the leading edge of the keel and was inspecting the growth (not bad for sitting neglected for six years) when all of a sudden I felt and heard a *WHOOSH* behind me. The water became turbulent and I just about sh*t myself right then and there as I turned just in time to see the back end of a massive shark tail fading into the darkness. Nope. I didn't stick around.