A story of a broken forestay
This past summer my wife and I were sailing the wrong way down the Drake Passage toward the Treasure Island caves in the BVI’s. The wind was just off our starboard quarter. My wife was trying to unfurl the jib and it jammed about 3/4’s of the way out. As she was making her way forward to check the drum the sail suddenly unfurled and filled. Great!. About one minute later something smacked me on the back of the head. I looked up to see the backstay swinging more than any backstay I’ve ever seen before. That’s a long way to say the forestay parted about a foot below the masthead.It may not be the windward shroud, but it was a heart stopping moment. Since we were running down wind, we wanted to keep as much forward pressure on the mast as possible, so we left the main out where it was and slowly let out the jib sheet until it was no longer pulling. We were lucky on three counts. First, if we had to loose a stay we couldn’t have lost a better one on our point of sail. Second, we had a keel-stepped mast, and finally there were two spinnaker halyards. We got the halyards to the forward cleats and cranked the winches as tight as we could and then tied them off. Unfortunately our luck looked like it was going to run out. We had about 10 minutes before we either hit Tortola or we were going to have to jib. We were not wild about either possibility.My wife raised the charter company on the VHF. After giving our position three times without the being able to make them understand we were just off Rhodetown harbor I heard her scream, ”We’re the boat with the flapping jib and the hysterical English woman jumping up and down on the deck.” They said they’d be right out.Two guys jumped on board from a speedboat, which is a story in itself. We now had well over 100 years of sailing experience on board and not one of us was sure what to do, we just knew we didn’t want to gibe and we didn’t want to run aground. We couldn’t roll up the jib; there was nothing to roll it around. We couldn’t drop it; the halyard and sail were now part of the forestay. Time was running out. While I steer the straightest course of my life, the charter guys wrasseled the 150 geny to earth and got a few sail ties around it. Then, while everyone held his or her breath, we made the slowest gibe in history with just enough pressure on the main sheet to control the boom. We were then able to sail into the lee of the harbor and bring the wind astern and slowly drop the main.What did we learn? Our first instinct – to do nothing – was probably right. The mast hadn’t come down, so we had to be doing something right. Easing the jib sheet and leaving the main tight was probably right as well. We didn’t want the jib pulling the mast sideways as it bounced around without a forestay. Leaving the main sheeted keep the pressure on the remaining stays. If we had been on a beam reach I think I would have turned straight down wind. If we had been close hauled, I suspect we would have lost the rig or greatly damaged the deck.Theory is great. However in the first critical seconds theory doesn’t come to mind. And this is a fire drill few of us practice. Hopefully, experience tells you where the boat wants to go. Then you start to think and clean up the mess. Our experience was that three experience sailor in the boat and a fourth in the chase boat weren’t sure what the best solution was going to be and we all breathed a big sigh of relief when we tied up at the dock.