Here's a fun little story: Up here in Buffalo, we had a beautiful fourth of July weekend- sunny and 80 degrees with light winds and little chop. Perfect conditions for a weekend cruising around our home port of Buffalo. My wife, I and my 2 kids: Madeline (3 1/2) and Aidan (1 1/2) jumped into our 26 foot O'Day "Maddie's Cay" and set out Saturday late morning for the Buffalo Yacht Club facilities at Point Abino, a mere 12 or so miles away. We had a great 3 hour sail up and put in for the afternoon/ evening. The day was so much fun that we decided to set out for Port Colborne a small port another 10 or so miles away from Abino at the Erie side of the Welland Canal and less than thirty miles away from or home port at Buffalo. Before leaving, I made sure that I checked the weather report for the return trip on Monday. They were forecasting 20-30 knot winds, but clear with no storms. Sounded like a wild ride home, but I'd been in worse with our boat, which handles very well in heavy weather, providing that you have an appropriate amount of canvas up. I planned on getting up early and setting out before the wind had an opportunity to build up some steam. So we had another great day of sailing followed by an afternoon walking around town. When we got back to the boat, a couple of storms were looming on the horizon and the wind had picked up considerably. We passed a fun evening below deck while the storms raged overhead. When we woke in the morning, we found that the wind had not subsided and was still blowing around 20 with higher gusts. Additionally, we knew that it was likely that the waves had built up considerably through the night. It was at this point that I called up my mother, who lives just outside of Pt. Colborne to pick up the kids while my wife and I brought the boat home. I’ve taken this trip several times solo and knew what to expect in heavy weather. The wind generally blows north-north-east, which puts my destination almost directly downwind, so it’s usually a sleigh-ride all the way in with following seas. You spend most of it surfing down the waves and watching the knot meter run up more than you thought possible. It’s generally a wild ride. So, once the grandparents had the kids, we set out under a reefed main and appx. 90% jib. Coming out of the harbor, we were met with 20 knot wind and eight to ten foot waves. Point Abino sits directly between Pt. Colborne and Buffalo, which requires you to head out onto the lake a considerable distance to clear it with sufficient room under the keel. Given the conditions, I planned to beat into the weather to get appx. 4-5 miles out before turning and heading downwind for the ride home. The alternative was to make a direct course for the deep water marker off of Pt. Abino, which would have had us taking 8-10 foot breakers broadside for the better part of an hour. The fun started 3 miles out, when the furling line snapped and let the whole 155% out in 20+ knot winds. I put my wife on the tiller, slapped on the PFD and headed forward to manually roll the jib back up. It took a while, but by bracing my foot against one side of the pulpit with my back against the other, I was able to brace myself and slowly roll the sail in and secure it as the bow is being dropped into ten foot rollers. Needless to say, I was quite wet when I made it back to the cockpit. We continued with the reefed main alone and managed to maintain almost hull speed and put another eight or so miles under the keel. Meanwhile the waves continued to build to 12-14 footers. We were caught a couple of times by a rogue breaker that laid the boat down a bit, but all in all, it was a fun ride. The color started to come back to my wife’s face and she loosened her grip on the lifelines. Thank god she doesn’t get sea sick. We were rounding the Point, approximately 2 1/2 miles out in 12-14 footers when it hit the fan. A 14 footer grabbed my rudder and sheared off the lower pintle, which attaches my rudder to the transom and I lost steerage. I looked back in absolute horror at my rudder floating up behind the boat and floundering uselessly in the waver. We rounded up and then jibed, which shot the boom across the boat and blew the traveler cart off of its track and into the lake. Nice! So to sum up: no jib, rudder ripped off and the main just blew off the track and was snapping back and forth in the wind. Oh, and I neglected to mention the 12-14 foot waves that were POUNDING our lifeless 26 footer. OK first things first- run forward, drop the main, pull it back in, secure it and lash the sail down. Check. Next- steerage- I fire up the outboard in the hope that it could provide a little bit of stability. Maybe in three footers this would have worked, but in our conditions, forget about it. And to add insult to injury, the floundering rudder drifts into the prop, which gouges half a dozen three inch cuts into it. It just keeps getting better and better. It was at this point that my wife let out the first of many “Call the Coast Guard’s”. I gave it some thought and concluded that: 1. no one was injured. 2. we were not in imminent danger. 3. we had plenty of water below us and room to drift. 4. if I needed to, I had a sea anchor down below that would buy us some time and give us a bit of stability, while I made some repairs. So, I declined and ran below to get some rope. Luckily, it was the pintle that failed and not the gudgeon on the transom, so through a considerable effort, which involved hanging upside-down off of the transom, while being dunked into the oncoming waves, I was able to lash the broken rudder back onto the transom and regain partial steerage. Unfortunately, the jagged edges where the pintle sheared eventually cut through the lines and back over the transom I went to fix it again. It was a fairly iterative process that led to a pile of cut rope strewn about the cockpit, but eventually we limped back into the Pt. Abino basin and tied off. We caught a ride back into Buffalo and headed back to pick up the kids to bring them home. The next day, I picked up a new pair of pintles and a new furling line and headed back after work to make the repairs. I had some marine epoxy to fill the holes in the rudder, replaced the furling line, fixed the traveler system (nothing broke- I just lost the stopper at the end of the track) and installed the new pintles. All in all it took less that an hour and I was headed back home under blue skies, no wind and dead calm seas. I sat on the bow, motoring with the tiller tied off, drinking a beer and reflecting for two and a half hours on the wild day before. Despite the terror, there is definitely something intoxicating about coming through an experience like that intact. BTW- this all happened on a Monday, I fixed the boat on Tuesday, brought her home and we were back at the start line for our Wed. night race and had our strongest finish of the year. Additionally, my wife and kids were back out on the boat for all of last weekend, my wife having put the entire experience behind her. Did I mention that she’s a pretty cool chick? Sorry for the long post, but I thought a few of you could probably relate.
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How did you get her to put it behind her
My girlfriend still bi*%$'s about rounding up in 25 to 30 knot winds and goes down below and won't say a word
My girlfriend still bi*%$'s about rounding up in 25 to 30 knot winds and goes down below and won't say a word
My Wife
She's been sailing long enough to know that, other than bodily injury and actually holing the boat, losing the rudder is just about the worst thing that can happen to a sail boat. I guess she figures that if we can make it through that, there is not much more that the lake can throw at us. Of course, having actually written that down, I am sure that we will sink the boat this weekend. I'd better get down to the boat and dump a bottle of Jameson overboard as an appeasement.
She's been sailing long enough to know that, other than bodily injury and actually holing the boat, losing the rudder is just about the worst thing that can happen to a sail boat. I guess she figures that if we can make it through that, there is not much more that the lake can throw at us. Of course, having actually written that down, I am sure that we will sink the boat this weekend. I'd better get down to the boat and dump a bottle of Jameson overboard as an appeasement.
Nathan, glad you said that.
If you keep going out in those conditions somebody's going to need sonar to find you. IMHO.
Tim. I thought your girl friend was cool. What's with dat? *o
If you keep going out in those conditions somebody's going to need sonar to find you. IMHO.
Tim. I thought your girl friend was cool. What's with dat? *oYo betcha buddy
Well folks , the bride of 30 yrs and I have just started sailing and I could just about see all that happening to us. I'm sure the chatter would never end. It would likely be from that point on only the dog, the beer, a taste or two and me bagpipes on the Hudson River! Oh well, such is life. I am glad everything worked out for you folks K9Piper
Well folks , the bride of 30 yrs and I have just started sailing and I could just about see all that happening to us. I'm sure the chatter would never end. It would likely be from that point on only the dog, the beer, a taste or two and me bagpipes on the Hudson River! Oh well, such is life. I am glad everything worked out for you folks K9Piper
What a wild ride!
That is one impressive experience to live through and tell about. I think my wife could handle that, but I'd rather not try. This is nowhere near your experience, but about a month ago I went out on my O'Day 25 for my first solo sail, the wife and kids had other things to do. I had a perfect wind for a beam reach out of the marina for about 2 miles. I got out to the point where I was to come about and head back when my wife called and asked about the weather. Fine I said, until I turned around and saw the big black cloud over the marina. I immediately started back but the front hit about halfway in. All of my canvas was up when the front hit -- I knew better. I threw the main sheet but the genoa was cleated off on the other side of the cockpit. As I scambled over to uncleat it, the boat broached and laid over considerably. I released the jib sheet and furled it just in time. The wind shifted so that I was sailng into it. The next hour I was under mainsail in a down pour trying to beat into the wind. I finally used the motor when I saw lightning. A week later my dock mate asked if I had seen the boat almost knocked down when the storm came in. He said he was coming about for the anticipated rescue when it came back up. No, I didn't see it, that was me. Glad my wife and kids weren't on that trip. Interestingly, I was never scared or panicked. I did regret not having my rain gear though. Later Alan
That is one impressive experience to live through and tell about. I think my wife could handle that, but I'd rather not try. This is nowhere near your experience, but about a month ago I went out on my O'Day 25 for my first solo sail, the wife and kids had other things to do. I had a perfect wind for a beam reach out of the marina for about 2 miles. I got out to the point where I was to come about and head back when my wife called and asked about the weather. Fine I said, until I turned around and saw the big black cloud over the marina. I immediately started back but the front hit about halfway in. All of my canvas was up when the front hit -- I knew better. I threw the main sheet but the genoa was cleated off on the other side of the cockpit. As I scambled over to uncleat it, the boat broached and laid over considerably. I released the jib sheet and furled it just in time. The wind shifted so that I was sailng into it. The next hour I was under mainsail in a down pour trying to beat into the wind. I finally used the motor when I saw lightning. A week later my dock mate asked if I had seen the boat almost knocked down when the storm came in. He said he was coming about for the anticipated rescue when it came back up. No, I didn't see it, that was me. Glad my wife and kids weren't on that trip. Interestingly, I was never scared or panicked. I did regret not having my rain gear though. Later Alan
Just a quick question....
for the more experienced sailors. Considering the circumstances; 26' boat, 2.5 miles offshore, 20+ knot winds, 12-14' seas and a broken rudder, would it not be considered prudent to send a 'securitie' or 'pan pan' message to the CG just to let them know what is going on and your current position? Although things worked out in the end for Nathan (BTW, nice job of saving the boat!) it seems to me that there was certainly a chance that things could have easily gone from bad to worse and the boat may have been swamped, capsized, etc. Having served 10 years in El Dorado SAR, I've seen circumstances where it would have made our job a lot easier if the people in trouble had called for help before the situation went completely FUBAR and we had time to get on scene for a rescue instead of a search. So, I guess my question is, would YOU have called the CG or just continued on until things got to the point of being a true emergency? Thanks, Jeff
for the more experienced sailors. Considering the circumstances; 26' boat, 2.5 miles offshore, 20+ knot winds, 12-14' seas and a broken rudder, would it not be considered prudent to send a 'securitie' or 'pan pan' message to the CG just to let them know what is going on and your current position? Although things worked out in the end for Nathan (BTW, nice job of saving the boat!) it seems to me that there was certainly a chance that things could have easily gone from bad to worse and the boat may have been swamped, capsized, etc. Having served 10 years in El Dorado SAR, I've seen circumstances where it would have made our job a lot easier if the people in trouble had called for help before the situation went completely FUBAR and we had time to get on scene for a rescue instead of a search. So, I guess my question is, would YOU have called the CG or just continued on until things got to the point of being a true emergency? Thanks, Jeff
Jeff, great point
Most people in that situation should call somebody, and let them know whats happening. When dealing with the masses, like you have, that would be the prudent thing to do! However, Nathen sounds like a great sailor, cool, calm, and confident. Sounds like he knows his limitations, and can figure out what to do when things go wrong. Also he has a compatant crew, who doesn't mind the rough stuff. I'm not going to call AAA, just because I feel a tire going soft on a cold snowey night. You deal! Great story Nathen. I'm glad everything turned out good. I wish more people would write thier stories, as you did.
Most people in that situation should call somebody, and let them know whats happening. When dealing with the masses, like you have, that would be the prudent thing to do! However, Nathen sounds like a great sailor, cool, calm, and confident. Sounds like he knows his limitations, and can figure out what to do when things go wrong. Also he has a compatant crew, who doesn't mind the rough stuff. I'm not going to call AAA, just because I feel a tire going soft on a cold snowey night. You deal! Great story Nathen. I'm glad everything turned out good. I wish more people would write thier stories, as you did.
Skipper's decision and responsibility
Only the skipper can make that call...then and there. It is one that certainly should be considered, but not hastily made. No, I wouldn't have made the call. The situation, as described was frustrating, worrying and wearying, but not imminantly dangerous. The boat was not taking on water and capsize was highly unlikely. I believe I could have safely brought her to port in these circumstances. We put a lot of miles on our 27-foot, 5500# displacement boat in similar conditions. While not at all easy, they are decidedly not hazardous. The problem with a PAN call is that you will be requested to make a position report every half hour. Under the circumstances, that additional burden would have been highly undesirable to me. On the other hand, if the skipper does not have the experience of regularly sailing in heavy air, the skills to deal with the situation, or if it seemed likely that the wind would continue to build, a heads-up to the Coast Guard would absolutely be called for. It is very hard to make a valid judgment about the prudent choice as an armchair skipper without having been there. But, thanks are in order to Jeff for the reminder that there are other options than merely between going it alone or calling for rescue. The question he poses is one that every skipper who ventures out on big water should mentally postulate as part of the process of readying oneself for the responsibility.
Only the skipper can make that call...then and there. It is one that certainly should be considered, but not hastily made. No, I wouldn't have made the call. The situation, as described was frustrating, worrying and wearying, but not imminantly dangerous. The boat was not taking on water and capsize was highly unlikely. I believe I could have safely brought her to port in these circumstances. We put a lot of miles on our 27-foot, 5500# displacement boat in similar conditions. While not at all easy, they are decidedly not hazardous. The problem with a PAN call is that you will be requested to make a position report every half hour. Under the circumstances, that additional burden would have been highly undesirable to me. On the other hand, if the skipper does not have the experience of regularly sailing in heavy air, the skills to deal with the situation, or if it seemed likely that the wind would continue to build, a heads-up to the Coast Guard would absolutely be called for. It is very hard to make a valid judgment about the prudent choice as an armchair skipper without having been there. But, thanks are in order to Jeff for the reminder that there are other options than merely between going it alone or calling for rescue. The question he poses is one that every skipper who ventures out on big water should mentally postulate as part of the process of readying oneself for the responsibility.
Good points guys.
But to keep things in balance I'll keep my weight on the side of caution. Then SAR can keep the sonar off.
But to keep things in balance I'll keep my weight on the side of caution. Then SAR can keep the sonar off.
Jeff
Jeff, You have a valid point and honestly the thought crossed my mind. However, with consideration given to the following: 1) we were being pushed/blown into a partially protected bay 2) neither the boat or crew were in imminent danger 3) I still had a couple of options on board such as the sea anchor that I'd not utilized and 4) I had a fair amount of confidence that I'd be able to rig something up to regain sufficient steerage to get the boat back in, I decided to hold off and see what I could do on my own, before calling in my condition to the Coasties. I must admit that there is probably more that a bit of hubris in that decision, but I honestly felt that our worst case scenario had us trying to catch a mooring ball or throwing out some ground tackle once we drifted a bit closer to the (sandy) shore. Additionally, my wife and I had our hands full and in all likelihood would not have been able to maintain the thirty-minute position reports. Alan, You just described a day from out rookie season (way before the kids). Been there, done that- and it led to me installing our roller furler. Now, when we see that line of clouds, the main gets hauled in and we roll up a ton of the jib, in anticipation of eventually taking it all in and firing up the Iron Genny.
Jeff, You have a valid point and honestly the thought crossed my mind. However, with consideration given to the following: 1) we were being pushed/blown into a partially protected bay 2) neither the boat or crew were in imminent danger 3) I still had a couple of options on board such as the sea anchor that I'd not utilized and 4) I had a fair amount of confidence that I'd be able to rig something up to regain sufficient steerage to get the boat back in, I decided to hold off and see what I could do on my own, before calling in my condition to the Coasties. I must admit that there is probably more that a bit of hubris in that decision, but I honestly felt that our worst case scenario had us trying to catch a mooring ball or throwing out some ground tackle once we drifted a bit closer to the (sandy) shore. Additionally, my wife and I had our hands full and in all likelihood would not have been able to maintain the thirty-minute position reports. Alan, You just described a day from out rookie season (way before the kids). Been there, done that- and it led to me installing our roller furler. Now, when we see that line of clouds, the main gets hauled in and we roll up a ton of the jib, in anticipation of eventually taking it all in and firing up the Iron Genny.
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