Rodeo anchoring
- Thread starter T-Schwan
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jssailem
SBO Weather and Forecasting Forum Jim & John
- Oct 22, 2014
- 23,141
My last tricky anchoring adventure was in Port Ludlow, WA. My Brother-in-Law and I sailed into the harbor. We set the anchor in 20 feet of water. We let out 100 feet of chain and about 30 feet of nylon-heavy Bridle. The forecast was for a 10 feet tide and strong winds (40 plus knots).
We shared a bit of wine and snacks with a local friend who rowed over for a visit, and then we cooked dinner.
Sitting in the boat, we could hear the wind building. We began to dance a bit. I checked the anchor alarm and watched as we skittered a bit back and forth.
Once we had some confidence in our holding position, we fixed our bunks and slept. Sleep was interrupted several times as the boat danced at the end of her tether. Checking the anchor alarm, I could see we were doing a two-step back and forth at the end of the circle. We never crossed the alarm line. We awoke with the morning light, pleased that our anchor system had proven its worth.
Anchoring is all about finding good holding ground, using the right amount and type of rode, and allowing for the conditions, be they wind or tide.
We shared a bit of wine and snacks with a local friend who rowed over for a visit, and then we cooked dinner.
Sitting in the boat, we could hear the wind building. We began to dance a bit. I checked the anchor alarm and watched as we skittered a bit back and forth.
Once we had some confidence in our holding position, we fixed our bunks and slept. Sleep was interrupted several times as the boat danced at the end of her tether. Checking the anchor alarm, I could see we were doing a two-step back and forth at the end of the circle. We never crossed the alarm line. We awoke with the morning light, pleased that our anchor system had proven its worth.
Anchoring is all about finding good holding ground, using the right amount and type of rode, and allowing for the conditions, be they wind or tide.
We had an exciting anchoring event that we didn't know was so exciting until we woke up the next morning. We entered the pass at Arcachon, France in late afternoon, sailing slowly up the channel as the sun dropped and the current turned against us. When it got dark, the lighthouse on the end of the point came on with a blinding flash, completely ruining any night vision every few seconds. With the marina still a long way off and not wanting to motor in the dark with us unable to see, the skipper decided we should pull off just outside the channel and anchor for the night. We did a "Bahamian moor", dropping one anchor, letting it pay out a ways and set, then dropping another, setting that and putting the boat about half-way between the two Danforths. This keeps the boat pretty much in one spot, perhaps twisting the two anchor lines around each other as the currents shift, but that only needs undoing in the morning. We had a lovely night's sleep once we got below out of the lighthouse's glare. The next morning we got up and went on deck to check out the scene. The anchors were holding us about 30 feet from a totally black oyster bed wall that stuck a few feet up out of the water and stretched alongside the channel for what looked like miles. It had been absolutely invisible in the night. If we had gone one boatlength further or had dragged at all, or had not done a Bahamian moor, we'd have hit it and gotten hung up on it. We got revenge by eating a half bushel of oysters when we got to a slip in the marina.
Anchored just outside Edartown (MA) one night, caught the tail end of a hurricane near midnight. Winds got up to 60-65 kts during the night, with boats dragging all around us. The vbirth was like a 0 G plane ride at times. We rode it out with almost 400ft of chain and rope rode and ran the engine at 80% to keep the load off the anchor.
I've never cheaped out on anchoring gear since then.
I've never cheaped out on anchoring gear since then.
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I was anchored at Tices Shoal in 5-6' of water with less than a couple hundred feet to shallow sand bottom to leeward. This was not a dangerous situation, just embarrassing. It was Sunday morning during the weekend they call "Floatchella". Hardly anybody anchors out overnight but by 9 am they were showing up in a steady stream, soon to be numbered in the thousands of boats.
My problem was that I was solo, Sue was on the phone wanting me to get out of there and the wind was blowing 20+. My windlass is only good for rope and I have about 25' of chain securing the anchor (Lewmar claw). In a moderate breeze, I can still use the windlass to assist in getting chain up, but in this condition, I only had brute strength to break out the anchor and pull in the chain.
After about 45 minutes of agonizing work, I finally devised a method to hold the chain in the surges so I could make progress. In the meantime, I had the engine running and hundreds of boats beginning to surround me in the morning surge of revelers. I finally broke the anchor out, but I started drifting so fast that I judged that there wasn't time to pull in the 10' or so of chain and secure the anchor before I started to drift into boats and/or shallow water.
So I cleated the chain and I had to rush back to the helm and get underway, dragging the anchor along the bottom. Luckily, I was able to progress slowly without fouling any chain, but I was waving my arms like an idiot as boats were streaming past me because I had little directional control for awhile until it finally got deep enough for the anchor to drag almost vertically. Finally, well out into the bay where I was far away from other boats and shallow water, I was able to get the last amount of chain out of the water. I definitely needed a better plan!
My problem was that I was solo, Sue was on the phone wanting me to get out of there and the wind was blowing 20+. My windlass is only good for rope and I have about 25' of chain securing the anchor (Lewmar claw). In a moderate breeze, I can still use the windlass to assist in getting chain up, but in this condition, I only had brute strength to break out the anchor and pull in the chain.
After about 45 minutes of agonizing work, I finally devised a method to hold the chain in the surges so I could make progress. In the meantime, I had the engine running and hundreds of boats beginning to surround me in the morning surge of revelers. I finally broke the anchor out, but I started drifting so fast that I judged that there wasn't time to pull in the 10' or so of chain and secure the anchor before I started to drift into boats and/or shallow water.
So I cleated the chain and I had to rush back to the helm and get underway, dragging the anchor along the bottom. Luckily, I was able to progress slowly without fouling any chain, but I was waving my arms like an idiot as boats were streaming past me because I had little directional control for awhile until it finally got deep enough for the anchor to drag almost vertically. Finally, well out into the bay where I was far away from other boats and shallow water, I was able to get the last amount of chain out of the water. I definitely needed a better plan!
Having an anchor buoy with 10 feet of line and anchoring in 20 feet of water does not work. Moving to a spot with 9 feet of water corrected the problem. However, it took me a couple of years to realize what the issue was for the first anchor spot. Since that trip, I stopped using the buoy. Too much hassle to store the buoy and line for me.
On this year's trip, I was having a very hard time getting the anchor up one day. I managed to get some of the chain up but things just got harder and harder. So I cleated off the chain and broke out my cheater system. I've got a hook with a line tied to it. Hooked the chain and wrapped the line around one of the mast winches and got the anchor up to the boat. When I looked over the bow at the anchor, I had hooked an abandoned anchor and chain. No wonder it was so hard to retrieve my anchor. And because it was starting to rain, I decided to just unhook the other anchor and let it go back to the bottom. I'm sure the oysters on the other anchor were happy to be back home.
On this year's trip, I was having a very hard time getting the anchor up one day. I managed to get some of the chain up but things just got harder and harder. So I cleated off the chain and broke out my cheater system. I've got a hook with a line tied to it. Hooked the chain and wrapped the line around one of the mast winches and got the anchor up to the boat. When I looked over the bow at the anchor, I had hooked an abandoned anchor and chain.
No wonder it was so hard to retrieve my anchor. And because it was starting to rain, I decided to just unhook the other anchor and let it go back to the bottom. I'm sure the oysters on the other anchor were happy to be back home.
Way back, the year the first Rocky movie came out, my family was helping a woman, who's husband was lost at sea, return her sailboat to her home port of Clearwater, Fl. We met in New Orleans and sailed Blitzen to anchor during a storm in Mobile Bay. In the middle of the night, the anchor rode parted. My father and I went on deck to deploy a backup anchor. It was lashed to the cabin top, under the upside-down tender. We didn't get the tender free before the deep keel of the S&S cutter started pounding its way into the sand of a shoal. Water started coming in through the garboards as the waves worked the hull back and forth against the stuck keel. We radioed an S.O.S.
A CG 40 footer came out and we tried to transfer over by paying out an inflatable with my family aboard, while my father and the owner stayed aboard Blitzen manning the line.
When the CG boat came along side, I jumped up to grab their railing and hooked my toes under the pontoon of the raft, so everyone could scramble aboard. However, one of the Coasties grabbed my wrists and yanked me aboard. The raft floated away.
It had been pretty lucky that they had been able to maneuver up to us the first time, they didn't get another chance. I spent the night at the CG station while my family spent the night on Blitzen wedged into the bottom in the middle of Mobile Bay.
Blitzed was towed, the next day, to Dauphin Island for repairs. Dotty, the owner, sold Blitzen from there.
Blitzen, sitting on the bottom.
Blitzen getting towed to the boat yard.
That's 13 year old me, owner Dotty, and Blitzen at anchor, Dauphin Island, Alabama. 1976.
My father suggested Blitzen was haunted my Fred's (Dotty's lost husband) ghost. They had such bad luck getting Blitzen home. She had been found adrift off Texas and he, Dotty, and another crew, had only made it to NOLA on their first attempt because of a torn main, inexplicable engine problems, and other small failures. That was the second time Mayday was called to rescue Blitzen on her return sail home.
This is Blitzen today. 1938 Olin Stephen's design, Blitzen
Prettiest boat I've ever seen.
-Will
A CG 40 footer came out and we tried to transfer over by paying out an inflatable with my family aboard, while my father and the owner stayed aboard Blitzen manning the line.
When the CG boat came along side, I jumped up to grab their railing and hooked my toes under the pontoon of the raft, so everyone could scramble aboard. However, one of the Coasties grabbed my wrists and yanked me aboard. The raft floated away.
It had been pretty lucky that they had been able to maneuver up to us the first time, they didn't get another chance. I spent the night at the CG station while my family spent the night on Blitzen wedged into the bottom in the middle of Mobile Bay.
Blitzed was towed, the next day, to Dauphin Island for repairs. Dotty, the owner, sold Blitzen from there.
Blitzen, sitting on the bottom.
Blitzen getting towed to the boat yard.
That's 13 year old me, owner Dotty, and Blitzen at anchor, Dauphin Island, Alabama. 1976.
My father suggested Blitzen was haunted my Fred's (Dotty's lost husband) ghost. They had such bad luck getting Blitzen home. She had been found adrift off Texas and he, Dotty, and another crew, had only made it to NOLA on their first attempt because of a torn main, inexplicable engine problems, and other small failures. That was the second time Mayday was called to rescue Blitzen on her return sail home.
This is Blitzen today. 1938 Olin Stephen's design, Blitzen
Prettiest boat I've ever seen.
-Will
When I was a kid my parents would sometimes raft up with my uncle and his powerboating friends. Almost every time some kind of commotion ensued. Between their plans of putting 10+ boats on one anchor and a prevailing wind shift and strengthening overnight there were lots of complications. I remember one time my parents were about halfway between the anchor boat and the end of the line. Around 4 AM the line holding their bow to the next boat parted, and the raft up turned into an L shape, pivoting around our boat. They managed to release enough lines for us to back out of the line and go anchor on our own. After that my parents decided it was just best to anchor separately and dinghy over to them. One morning after a wind shift we were watching them all leave. Each boat pulled away and eventually only the anchored boat remained. They were pulling up their anchor but stopped just before it was on deck, looking at it very confused. Turns out their anchor was set well enough to hold everyone through the wind shift, but the pull from all the boats had bent the anchor shank around in a U.
A couple days ago in Fairlee Creek off the Chesapeake I pulled up a lawn chair wrapped in my anchor chain. Luckily nobody was sitting in it so it wasn't too hard to untangle.
jssailem
SBO Weather and Forecasting Forum Jim & John
- Oct 22, 2014
- 23,141
I know of a fellow boater who purchased a new anchor plus chain and then headed to a secluded anchorage near an island to test his new equipment. Pulling up to his drop, he let the anchor go, attempting to set his new pride and joy. The boat held for a moment, then, with a jerk, released and began to drag. That was not the way it was supposed to go. Perhaps it was it was just bad ground. He partially retrieved his anchor, dragged it through the water, back to a better spot, again released it, and backed down to make the set. No set. Just a slow drag. Now floating in deep water, he went to the bow and began hauling up the disappointing hardware. As the anchor broke the surface, it was stuck in the middle of a derelict crab pot.
The crabs were long gone in their place, large and ugly tube worms.
As the anchor cleared the surface, the pot wiggled free and fell back into the deep. Knowing he had a good hook on the bow, the captain again approached the anchorage.
This time, the anchor sunk into the mud and grabbed a hold.
The crabs were long gone in their place, large and ugly tube worms.
As the anchor cleared the surface, the pot wiggled free and fell back into the deep. Knowing he had a good hook on the bow, the captain again approached the anchorage.
This time, the anchor sunk into the mud and grabbed a hold.