Yesterday, I crossed a psychological line. I’ve been pushing hard to get there and I suddenly realized that “there” has become “here”. Even with Delaware Bay ahead of me, Cape May is so different, interesting, and so much a part of the world I was anticipating, that I’m doing like the new age bumper sticker says, right here, right now.
My Victron monitor told me that the batteries were low so I ran the engine. This got it nice and hot so I was able to do the oil change that has become a bit overdue with all the pushing on. The previous day’s wind shift resulted in my ending up riding to my Fortress stern anchor which did a great job although with anchor rodes running all up and down the length of the boat. I wanted to get things simplified and my main anchor out in front. Wind and tide were running together so, waiting until just a bit before the current change, I winched myself up to the Fortress and pulled it aboard.
I don’t have a windlass but threading a block snap shackle block on to the stern anchor rode, hooking it to the midships cleat, and cranking the rode on the two speed jib winch worked very well. I brought the Fortress back to the stern as Strider blew the nearly 400 feet downwind to fetch up on my Delta main anchor. Pat myself on the back for the foresight to loop a line around the main rode at the quarter so it couldn’t go under the boat and anchor me by my prop or rudder. Strider rode briefly by the stern cleat and I simply cast off the end of the loop around the anchor rode and wind and tide swung her into position.
Several boats had left and there was a better spot up wind so I warmed up the engine and began winching myself up to the main anchor. I didn’t want to cut the lashing in the anchor locker and bring the bitter end up on deck to winch as I had the Fortress so I used the main halyard winch. (Note to self: Buy a snatch block the next time you see one in a marine store.) This works well but is a smaller single speed. My winch arm was getting a bit tired at this point so I gave the occasional gooses forward, enough to slack the line but not run over it, and then pulled in line and winched quickly before she lost the momentum. It was a lot of running back and forth but I can use the exercise.
Good holding ground in Cape May. Both anchors were a bear to break out. I have a tackle with a S.S. reefing hook on it that I lead back to either the mast or the midships cleat and use to pull on the chain once the shackle is over the fairlead. It took a lot of sweating on the fall as well as some running ahead with the engine with the bitter end secured to break each anchor out of the mud.
I had the current timed just right. The Delta went down and I was able to back straight back to 14 times the water depth and let the Fortress off the stern. At slack water, I was able to hand pull myself up to short scope on the main anchor and give the Fortress a good set by pulling against it. I then let the main rode out to the proper scope and pulled myself back in to my final position before the flood started flowing hard enough to make this a chore.
Speaking of anchoring, one of my concerns about the cruising life has been the lack of cable, the TV kind. However, the widespread cluelessness about how to anchor a vessel has been providing all the entertainment I could wish for. The day before yesterday, I looked out to see a late model Hunter, with every bell and whistle that a broker could ever bundle into a sale, drifting rapidly down on my friend’s motorsailer. The Hunter powered away just in time and then tried again in several spots. The basis of their method seemed to be that other boats must be in good holding ground so the places to try were 2-3 boat lengths directly upwind of ones that were already secured. Eventually, they gave up and headed off towards the marinas.
I woke up early yesterday morning to see them anchored right out in the middle of the channel. Several of the tugs going back and forth between the port and the major dredging operation would pass them about 20 feet away blowing their horns but nobody took the hint. Eventually, a Coast Guard officer speaking down from the imposing pulpit of a 47 foot utility boat got the message across. Up came the anchor and the fun began.
They were now using the “Fishing Method”, after all, it’s a hook, isn’t it?. The anchor is let out over the bow just enough to skim over the bottom and the boat driven around the anchorage with the person on the bow waving and pointing in different directions until some resistance is felt. This technique can work when there are old mooring chains, power cables, or abandoned ground tackle on the bottom but has the disadvantage of the anchor being a single use item. It wasn’t working for them in Cape May but I appreciate the intelligence that most of the anchorage is apparently clear of cables.
After about the eighth attempt, and waving them off from trying the spot directly over my stern anchor, I got in the dinghy and rowed over to ask if they could use some tips. They said, “Yes”, and added that they couldn’t figure out what was wrong because they were using twice as much chain as the water depth.
If I had a printer on board, I think I would now make up little cards to hand out:
“Yes, but that fellow told us how to do it.”
Sure enough, they were soon secure in that exact spot and haven’t moved since despite brisk winds and strong current.
I was woken this morning by voices alongside and looked out to see a large Morgan center cockpit ketch trying their luck at finding the elusive magic spot. Their mizzen set in a wind against current situation wasn’t making things any easier for them and they were using another tried and dis-proven method. They would find their spot and get the boat stopped, one point for that. Someone would yell, “Let go!” and what sounded like the proper amount of chain would run quickly out, another point for that. Then, as soon as the boat began to move back and the bow man could hear the links rattling over each other as the chain straightened, he would yell, “WE’RE DRAGGING!” The windlass would start winding (there’s a reason why those of us without them learn to do it right the first time) and they would soon be off to another spot.
After about eight cycles, they decided to try about three boat lengths upwind and abeam of me. I dressed quickly and got into the dinghy grumbling to myself, Who appointed me to this job? I rowed over in the dark and yelled to the fellow at the wheel, “Look, this is very good holding ground. Your anchor will set the very first time, every time, but you are going to be doing this all day the way you are going about it.”
I then said (see my “card” above) “and besides, you are in the channel and the Coast Guard will probably ask you to move later. I suggested a spot and they headed off to it where, from what I could determine in the dark got a set the very first time. It’s one of those rare things in life where doing it the right way actually works, most of the time.
Shortly after, I turned on the radio to get the weather and heard them negotiating with the Coast Guard for evacuation of a crew member with a crushing injury to the wrist and the boat showed up a few minutes later. The fellow who went by later with the splint on his arm looked like the anchor handler so I suspect their anchoring learning curve was steeper than most. Raising and lowering it six to eight times instead of once just increases the chances for things to go wrong, especially when tired after a long night passage.
Anchoring didn’t seem quite so amusing after that but I’m sure that will pass and it will be a constant source of entertainment as I continue south, just as long as no one blows into me in the middle of the night.
My Victron monitor told me that the batteries were low so I ran the engine. This got it nice and hot so I was able to do the oil change that has become a bit overdue with all the pushing on. The previous day’s wind shift resulted in my ending up riding to my Fortress stern anchor which did a great job although with anchor rodes running all up and down the length of the boat. I wanted to get things simplified and my main anchor out in front. Wind and tide were running together so, waiting until just a bit before the current change, I winched myself up to the Fortress and pulled it aboard.
I don’t have a windlass but threading a block snap shackle block on to the stern anchor rode, hooking it to the midships cleat, and cranking the rode on the two speed jib winch worked very well. I brought the Fortress back to the stern as Strider blew the nearly 400 feet downwind to fetch up on my Delta main anchor. Pat myself on the back for the foresight to loop a line around the main rode at the quarter so it couldn’t go under the boat and anchor me by my prop or rudder. Strider rode briefly by the stern cleat and I simply cast off the end of the loop around the anchor rode and wind and tide swung her into position.
Several boats had left and there was a better spot up wind so I warmed up the engine and began winching myself up to the main anchor. I didn’t want to cut the lashing in the anchor locker and bring the bitter end up on deck to winch as I had the Fortress so I used the main halyard winch. (Note to self: Buy a snatch block the next time you see one in a marine store.) This works well but is a smaller single speed. My winch arm was getting a bit tired at this point so I gave the occasional gooses forward, enough to slack the line but not run over it, and then pulled in line and winched quickly before she lost the momentum. It was a lot of running back and forth but I can use the exercise.
Good holding ground in Cape May. Both anchors were a bear to break out. I have a tackle with a S.S. reefing hook on it that I lead back to either the mast or the midships cleat and use to pull on the chain once the shackle is over the fairlead. It took a lot of sweating on the fall as well as some running ahead with the engine with the bitter end secured to break each anchor out of the mud.
I had the current timed just right. The Delta went down and I was able to back straight back to 14 times the water depth and let the Fortress off the stern. At slack water, I was able to hand pull myself up to short scope on the main anchor and give the Fortress a good set by pulling against it. I then let the main rode out to the proper scope and pulled myself back in to my final position before the flood started flowing hard enough to make this a chore.
Speaking of anchoring, one of my concerns about the cruising life has been the lack of cable, the TV kind. However, the widespread cluelessness about how to anchor a vessel has been providing all the entertainment I could wish for. The day before yesterday, I looked out to see a late model Hunter, with every bell and whistle that a broker could ever bundle into a sale, drifting rapidly down on my friend’s motorsailer. The Hunter powered away just in time and then tried again in several spots. The basis of their method seemed to be that other boats must be in good holding ground so the places to try were 2-3 boat lengths directly upwind of ones that were already secured. Eventually, they gave up and headed off towards the marinas.
I woke up early yesterday morning to see them anchored right out in the middle of the channel. Several of the tugs going back and forth between the port and the major dredging operation would pass them about 20 feet away blowing their horns but nobody took the hint. Eventually, a Coast Guard officer speaking down from the imposing pulpit of a 47 foot utility boat got the message across. Up came the anchor and the fun began.
They were now using the “Fishing Method”, after all, it’s a hook, isn’t it?. The anchor is let out over the bow just enough to skim over the bottom and the boat driven around the anchorage with the person on the bow waving and pointing in different directions until some resistance is felt. This technique can work when there are old mooring chains, power cables, or abandoned ground tackle on the bottom but has the disadvantage of the anchor being a single use item. It wasn’t working for them in Cape May but I appreciate the intelligence that most of the anchorage is apparently clear of cables.
After about the eighth attempt, and waving them off from trying the spot directly over my stern anchor, I got in the dinghy and rowed over to ask if they could use some tips. They said, “Yes”, and added that they couldn’t figure out what was wrong because they were using twice as much chain as the water depth.
If I had a printer on board, I think I would now make up little cards to hand out:
They thanked me and I watched them head off to try again. They went for the first spot they tried and I heard someone yell, “We tried here and it didn’t work.”
“Yes, but that fellow told us how to do it.”
Sure enough, they were soon secure in that exact spot and haven’t moved since despite brisk winds and strong current.
I was woken this morning by voices alongside and looked out to see a large Morgan center cockpit ketch trying their luck at finding the elusive magic spot. Their mizzen set in a wind against current situation wasn’t making things any easier for them and they were using another tried and dis-proven method. They would find their spot and get the boat stopped, one point for that. Someone would yell, “Let go!” and what sounded like the proper amount of chain would run quickly out, another point for that. Then, as soon as the boat began to move back and the bow man could hear the links rattling over each other as the chain straightened, he would yell, “WE’RE DRAGGING!” The windlass would start winding (there’s a reason why those of us without them learn to do it right the first time) and they would soon be off to another spot.
After about eight cycles, they decided to try about three boat lengths upwind and abeam of me. I dressed quickly and got into the dinghy grumbling to myself, Who appointed me to this job? I rowed over in the dark and yelled to the fellow at the wheel, “Look, this is very good holding ground. Your anchor will set the very first time, every time, but you are going to be doing this all day the way you are going about it.”
I then said (see my “card” above) “and besides, you are in the channel and the Coast Guard will probably ask you to move later. I suggested a spot and they headed off to it where, from what I could determine in the dark got a set the very first time. It’s one of those rare things in life where doing it the right way actually works, most of the time.
Shortly after, I turned on the radio to get the weather and heard them negotiating with the Coast Guard for evacuation of a crew member with a crushing injury to the wrist and the boat showed up a few minutes later. The fellow who went by later with the splint on his arm looked like the anchor handler so I suspect their anchoring learning curve was steeper than most. Raising and lowering it six to eight times instead of once just increases the chances for things to go wrong, especially when tired after a long night passage.
Anchoring didn’t seem quite so amusing after that but I’m sure that will pass and it will be a constant source of entertainment as I continue south, just as long as no one blows into me in the middle of the night.
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