I took the day off (sick...cough) but had to drop the boat off at the marina to be craned out tomorrow. However, first priority was to pump out the holding tank. Not just pump it out but REALLY try to get it clean.
So, first stop was the marina. I scoped out the terrain and they had a smallish cruise in the slings and a large one (40ft) at the far end of the transient dock they use to queue boats up for hauling. I inquired as to whether they would haul her today and was told that she was staying overnight. It didn't seem like a big deal at the time, as there were two open spots in front of her.
Hopped back in the truck and drove to the club. They just built a public dock next to the club and it includes a do it yourself pump out facility (they will pump you out if they are around or there is a pump out boat, but today there was nobody around the Harbormaster's trailer. I walked down to the docks to scope out the pump out unit. It seemed pretty straight forward and another boater walked me through it verbally as I was walking back. I also scoped out my potential course. Luckily the wind was blowing onto the U-shaped set of floating docks I would have to enter, so I felt comfortable that I could just inch my way in and then let Mother Nature do the rest.
I grabbed my stuff and walked back to the club and down to my tender. She looked lonely with only two others remaining and the docks 90% empty. She was also full of water. Those little water tenders are amazing. It had a foot of water in it and was still well afloat. Time for a little exercise. I am glad I thought to grab my small piston pump. I cruised out to the mooring field to Triple Play. The wind was gusting to about ten knots and it was a bumpy ride.
Hopped aboard and got ready to go. After warming up the diesel I dropped one pendant and then just hooked the seconds loop on the horn of the cleat. Then I was able to just drive off it, which was nice, as by now I had realized it was near low tide. The shore of Snake Island was a biscuit toss from my stern so I didn't have much room behind me.
I crossed the mooring field gingerly balancing my desire for a slow approach with maintaining enough velocity to maintain steerage. Once again, the technique of goosing the throttle inter dispersed with changes to reverse worked like a charm. I made it to the bottom of the U with the wind at my stern (down to about 5 knots in this more protected area) then turned sharply to end up parallel to the dock about five feet away. Touchdown was perfect, except that I ended up having to move her forward a boat length, which I did easily from the dock.
I rigged the vacuum line to the deck port and a fresh water hose, so I could flush the system thoroughly. I will spare you the details of this operation, but suffice to say that about an hour passed during my activities. Done with that I decided to remove the mainsail. It had to come off for the winter and it is also a requirement that the boom be out of the way for the crane. Given my relative shelter, and an impending rain storm on the horizon (hanging ominously over downtown Boston) I tried out my new game plan for main removal. The main is only a few years old and as stiff as thin cardboard. My plan was to take advantage of the loose foot and the lazy jacks. I took off my sail ties and then retied them so they were just around the sail, but not the boom. After removing my reef lines, outhaul and battens the lazy jacks held the main in place neatly. I then shifted the traveler down and pulled the main forward off the boom folding it in approximately three foot sections. It worked well and would have worked better had I not forgotten on batten and if I had done a better job flaking the sail the last time I had her out.
Where was I? Yes. The storm looked like it was giving me a close miss. The main sail is off and now it is about 4:30pm and it will be dark shortly. Time to get my boat, and other things, in gear to make the five minute trip over to the marina's dock to be hauled. I fire up the trusty diesel and plan my escape. It seems the easiest thing to do would be to reverse my entrance. So, first thing is to move the boat back a boat length. Then I figure I will have enough room to take a left out of the bottom of the U to get out of the town dock.
I try to get the boat moving back, but the wind seems to have her pinned in the corner. So I put my thinking cap on. I rig a line from the stern around a cleat to use as a pivot point and move an extra bollard to protect that area she may hit when she pivots. I release the bow line then shift into reverse an goose it. No dice. I hop off and check my rudder angle. The rudder is over. I straighten it and try again at full power. No good. I try rocking her forward then back again, thinking maybe the tranny is acting up. I hop off onto the dock puzzled and then it dawns on me. My exhaust port is clear of the water and I can see a good six inches of hull than usual. I check the depth sounder. Yup 0.0 ft. I am aground. The boat is sitting on her keel in the mud like an enormous weeble. I can move her a little, but she just settles back in a moment.
I share a few choice words with the Gods about state contractors who build a brand new facility without dredging or planning for anyone to use the pump out station at low tide. I call my Wife, safely at work, to tell her that I will be late and to ask her when low tide was. It takes her a while, but she eventually calls me back and reports it was at 4:30pm. It is about 4:45pm. I call a sailing friend to confess my stupidity. He is a great guy who knows that it will no doubt be his turn to confess shortly, so he listens to my story and helpfully looks up the time of low tide to confirm my Wife's report.
Just as I hang up I walk aft to the cockpit contemplating how to make best use of the time. Well, I think, I could run the tender (which I was towing) around to the public ramp and thow it in the truck, and drive the truck to the marina and walk back that might have to be done anyway and it will waste some time doing it now. I stepped off the boat onto the dock and it floats away a little. Awesome. I think for a minute about loading the tender anyway. It is dark already after all, but then I consider my karma for the day and envision myself having to climb a chain link fence after discovering that they locked me out of the town dock while I was gone. I decide to can that plan and to take the boat over to the marina immediately.
(part 2 tomorrow)
So, first stop was the marina. I scoped out the terrain and they had a smallish cruise in the slings and a large one (40ft) at the far end of the transient dock they use to queue boats up for hauling. I inquired as to whether they would haul her today and was told that she was staying overnight. It didn't seem like a big deal at the time, as there were two open spots in front of her.
Hopped back in the truck and drove to the club. They just built a public dock next to the club and it includes a do it yourself pump out facility (they will pump you out if they are around or there is a pump out boat, but today there was nobody around the Harbormaster's trailer. I walked down to the docks to scope out the pump out unit. It seemed pretty straight forward and another boater walked me through it verbally as I was walking back. I also scoped out my potential course. Luckily the wind was blowing onto the U-shaped set of floating docks I would have to enter, so I felt comfortable that I could just inch my way in and then let Mother Nature do the rest.
I grabbed my stuff and walked back to the club and down to my tender. She looked lonely with only two others remaining and the docks 90% empty. She was also full of water. Those little water tenders are amazing. It had a foot of water in it and was still well afloat. Time for a little exercise. I am glad I thought to grab my small piston pump. I cruised out to the mooring field to Triple Play. The wind was gusting to about ten knots and it was a bumpy ride.
Hopped aboard and got ready to go. After warming up the diesel I dropped one pendant and then just hooked the seconds loop on the horn of the cleat. Then I was able to just drive off it, which was nice, as by now I had realized it was near low tide. The shore of Snake Island was a biscuit toss from my stern so I didn't have much room behind me.
I crossed the mooring field gingerly balancing my desire for a slow approach with maintaining enough velocity to maintain steerage. Once again, the technique of goosing the throttle inter dispersed with changes to reverse worked like a charm. I made it to the bottom of the U with the wind at my stern (down to about 5 knots in this more protected area) then turned sharply to end up parallel to the dock about five feet away. Touchdown was perfect, except that I ended up having to move her forward a boat length, which I did easily from the dock.
I rigged the vacuum line to the deck port and a fresh water hose, so I could flush the system thoroughly. I will spare you the details of this operation, but suffice to say that about an hour passed during my activities. Done with that I decided to remove the mainsail. It had to come off for the winter and it is also a requirement that the boom be out of the way for the crane. Given my relative shelter, and an impending rain storm on the horizon (hanging ominously over downtown Boston) I tried out my new game plan for main removal. The main is only a few years old and as stiff as thin cardboard. My plan was to take advantage of the loose foot and the lazy jacks. I took off my sail ties and then retied them so they were just around the sail, but not the boom. After removing my reef lines, outhaul and battens the lazy jacks held the main in place neatly. I then shifted the traveler down and pulled the main forward off the boom folding it in approximately three foot sections. It worked well and would have worked better had I not forgotten on batten and if I had done a better job flaking the sail the last time I had her out.
Where was I? Yes. The storm looked like it was giving me a close miss. The main sail is off and now it is about 4:30pm and it will be dark shortly. Time to get my boat, and other things, in gear to make the five minute trip over to the marina's dock to be hauled. I fire up the trusty diesel and plan my escape. It seems the easiest thing to do would be to reverse my entrance. So, first thing is to move the boat back a boat length. Then I figure I will have enough room to take a left out of the bottom of the U to get out of the town dock.
I try to get the boat moving back, but the wind seems to have her pinned in the corner. So I put my thinking cap on. I rig a line from the stern around a cleat to use as a pivot point and move an extra bollard to protect that area she may hit when she pivots. I release the bow line then shift into reverse an goose it. No dice. I hop off and check my rudder angle. The rudder is over. I straighten it and try again at full power. No good. I try rocking her forward then back again, thinking maybe the tranny is acting up. I hop off onto the dock puzzled and then it dawns on me. My exhaust port is clear of the water and I can see a good six inches of hull than usual. I check the depth sounder. Yup 0.0 ft. I am aground. The boat is sitting on her keel in the mud like an enormous weeble. I can move her a little, but she just settles back in a moment.
I share a few choice words with the Gods about state contractors who build a brand new facility without dredging or planning for anyone to use the pump out station at low tide. I call my Wife, safely at work, to tell her that I will be late and to ask her when low tide was. It takes her a while, but she eventually calls me back and reports it was at 4:30pm. It is about 4:45pm. I call a sailing friend to confess my stupidity. He is a great guy who knows that it will no doubt be his turn to confess shortly, so he listens to my story and helpfully looks up the time of low tide to confirm my Wife's report.
Just as I hang up I walk aft to the cockpit contemplating how to make best use of the time. Well, I think, I could run the tender (which I was towing) around to the public ramp and thow it in the truck, and drive the truck to the marina and walk back that might have to be done anyway and it will waste some time doing it now. I stepped off the boat onto the dock and it floats away a little. Awesome. I think for a minute about loading the tender anyway. It is dark already after all, but then I consider my karma for the day and envision myself having to climb a chain link fence after discovering that they locked me out of the town dock while I was gone. I decide to can that plan and to take the boat over to the marina immediately.
(part 2 tomorrow)
