The temperature has just dropped below the dew point and visibility has dropped to an eighth of a mile in fog. Around you are the sounds but not the sights of other boats. Your previously clear destination is no longer visible, and your visual frames of reference are gone. Have you been in this situation? How did you deal with it? Was it really stressful or just another part of sailing? Do you have radar and a gps/chartplotter on your boat? If not, how do you deal with navigation and collision avoidance in fog? Share your fog stories and be sure to vote in the Quick Quiz on the bottom of the home page. (Quiz by Gary Wyngarden)
- Status
Sailing on Compass and Watch
Of cause a GPS, Chart plotter and a radar is nice to have, but no necessity. 1) See to that your compass is right (develop a deviation chart). 2) Check what Motor RPM's are needed for 4, 5 and 6 knots boat speed. 4knots is 15min pr nm, 5knots is 12min pr nm and 6 knots is 10min pr nm. With this information you can manouvre between known points, such as navigation marks, islands etc. Choose your navigation with short routes (less than 3nm) Current, of cause introduce an element of uncertanty that has to be guessed and taken into account. I have done this several times and it works perfect. You will be amazed, how accurate you hit your next posision. I must advise that you perform tests in nice weather to learn about your accuracies. Good luck.
Of cause a GPS, Chart plotter and a radar is nice to have, but no necessity. 1) See to that your compass is right (develop a deviation chart). 2) Check what Motor RPM's are needed for 4, 5 and 6 knots boat speed. 4knots is 15min pr nm, 5knots is 12min pr nm and 6 knots is 10min pr nm. With this information you can manouvre between known points, such as navigation marks, islands etc. Choose your navigation with short routes (less than 3nm) Current, of cause introduce an element of uncertanty that has to be guessed and taken into account. I have done this several times and it works perfect. You will be amazed, how accurate you hit your next posision. I must advise that you perform tests in nice weather to learn about your accuracies. Good luck.
Bowditch - Ch. 7 & 8
See chapters 7 (Dead Reckoning) & 8 (Coastal Piloting) "BOWDITCH" The American Practical Navigator - By Nathanial Bowditch Current Edition: 2002 Corrected through U.S. Notice to Mariners No. 14/2004 (03 April 2004) http://pollux.nss.nima.mil/pubs/pubs_j_apn_sections.html?rid=187
See chapters 7 (Dead Reckoning) & 8 (Coastal Piloting) "BOWDITCH" The American Practical Navigator - By Nathanial Bowditch Current Edition: 2002 Corrected through U.S. Notice to Mariners No. 14/2004 (03 April 2004) http://pollux.nss.nima.mil/pubs/pubs_j_apn_sections.html?rid=187
Gimme an accurate GPS & Radar and...
I'll go anywhere. Of course it also helps to have a good set of ears and a keen sense of direction. Last summer the wife and I went from New London to Shelter Island in pea soup (we're talking visibility of less than a quarter mile at best). I kept pressing on thinking the fog would soon lift. Silly me! It didn't let up until we were about an hour from our destination. Fortunately, I had just calibrated the radar a week earlier, and I've always had good reults from my GPS. Of course, like any experienced navigator knows, you should always be keeping (at least)a mental log of dead reckoning stats in case of electrical failure. BTW- an interesting observation, for those who have been caught in the soup. Have you ever noticed the optical illusions in the fog? I spotted a small target dead ahead of us on the radar. As we got closer and it just barely came into view, it appeared to be a small rowboat with a couple of guys fishing. As we got almost on top of it, it turned out to be a large piece of driftwood with two seagulls on it. I think it might have something to do with lack of depth perception in the fog. Anyway, it was good for tension relieving chuckle.
I'll go anywhere. Of course it also helps to have a good set of ears and a keen sense of direction. Last summer the wife and I went from New London to Shelter Island in pea soup (we're talking visibility of less than a quarter mile at best). I kept pressing on thinking the fog would soon lift. Silly me! It didn't let up until we were about an hour from our destination. Fortunately, I had just calibrated the radar a week earlier, and I've always had good reults from my GPS. Of course, like any experienced navigator knows, you should always be keeping (at least)a mental log of dead reckoning stats in case of electrical failure. BTW- an interesting observation, for those who have been caught in the soup. Have you ever noticed the optical illusions in the fog? I spotted a small target dead ahead of us on the radar. As we got closer and it just barely came into view, it appeared to be a small rowboat with a couple of guys fishing. As we got almost on top of it, it turned out to be a large piece of driftwood with two seagulls on it. I think it might have something to do with lack of depth perception in the fog. Anyway, it was good for tension relieving chuckle.
I thought I was wrong ...
I thought I was wrong; when I was actually (nearly) right. I’ll never make that mistake again! Maggie & I were motoring “Auspicious” along the inside channel, between the Northern Shore of Lake Superior and the Barrier Islands (from W. Otter Cove to Shaganash Light) . We departed Otter Cove in light fog, which thickened considerably within the hour. Though probably under 25 miles, the route is tricky, with several important waypoints. Though Lake Superior is mostly deep water, with steep shorelines; this passage is a little twisty, closely bordered with lots of rock. Now, at this time, “Auspicious” was still a pretty ‘bare bones’ boat - we had a magnetic compass, and a depth sounder that worked fairly well in shallow water. No Knot-Log, Loran, and GPS was just a pipedream. We piloted by dead reckoning, with Maggie rock-steady on the helm (she can hold a strait compass course for hours, whereas I cannot steer effectively by compass alone), and I doing constant speed/distance calculations (throw a stick overboard and count seconds for 26 Ft. from stem to stern). So after several hours, blind except for a couple of shadowy glimpses of nearby Island (Lasher, Swede); I am expecting to come upon “The” (un-named) rock between Swede & Shaganash. The fairly high - steep rock should appear about 50 yards to port, and we’‘ll pass close to maintaining a single compass heading Shaganash Light (and an ‘easy’ anchorage). A couple hundred yards to the North-West of us (Starboard) lies a terrible nest of rocks (not shown on the linked chartlet). Piece of cake - I’ve continually calculated dozens of E.P.’s, there’s no wind nor current to introduce leeway, and Maggie unfailingly lays the course I command. Our charts are FULLY & copiously annotated with headings, distances, & etc. from previous fair-weather transits, and we KNOW this passage well. I’m so confident, that I’m counting down the SECONDS until the rock appears 50 yards of our Port Bow! The rock appears at exactly my predicted time - but off the Starboard beam. OOPS! It appears that I’ve miscalculated our track (by maybe a couple of degrees), and we’re actually 150 yards South of my E.P. Still no problem - just gooseneck slightly back & right to clear the rock, then reestablish our known heading to Shaganash Light. Now the ‘sounder’ starts telling us unexpected things (here’s an axiom - unexpected things are seldom good things). The bottom is quickly coming up from the expected 40 feet to less than 10 - then 6 (we draw 5.5'). Oops again! Where in hell are we? We’re ‘somewhere’ in that previously mentioned ‘nest of rocks’. We spent the next 2 ½ hours, very slowly sounding our way out of this unfamiliar reef. We were very fortunate in that we caught propitious sightings of several (unknown) rocks & islets, and finally a few glimpses of Shaganash Light, which allowed some rough bearing calculations. I couldn’t begin to describe our track through, and eventually out of, this reef strewn hell - it was a blind meander, accomplished through shear dumb luck, as much as any kind of competence (on my part). So what happened? Upon unexpectedly sighting “A” rock to Starboard (expecting to see ‘The” rock to Port), I (mistakenly) concluded that I was South of ‘The’ rock - when, in fact, it turns out that we were slightly North of “The” Rock (& South of “Another” Rk.) - but still within our intended Channel. Had we ‘jogged’ left a little (to Port), we’d have repositioned ourselves “on track” and carried on, without incident, to Shaganash. Why did I assume that we were completely out of the channel, when it was just a likely that we were merely a little off-centre within the channel? I suspect that, in my heart of hearts, I knew that I was being cavalier, arrogant, and supremely overconfident in my dead reckoning. When I proved (very slightly) wrong, I panicked and totally abandoned my previous assumptions! I then compounded my error by totally abandoning my D.R. assumptions, and attempting radical corrective action. My (over) confidence was not totally unfounded, so I should have assumed the smallest error, and made the smallest (of two) possible corrections. After all, if you cannot have some measure of unshakable self-confidence in what you are doing (whatever it may be), you shouldn’t be doing it. I thought I was wrong, when I was (nearly) right - I’ll (try to) never make that mistake again! For "Chartlet" Go to: http://offroute.com/previewmap/pv-mappage.asp Offroute - Map Preview Then Select: Lattitude 48 25 56 N Longitude 88 21 43 W Then zoom to 10 mi map width - then click "printable: With (uncharactersitic) humility, Gord __________________ Gord May GordMay@Boatpro.zzn.com ~~_/)_~~ (Gord & Maggie - "Southbound") "If you didn't have time to do it right in the first place, when will you get the time to fix it"
I thought I was wrong; when I was actually (nearly) right. I’ll never make that mistake again! Maggie & I were motoring “Auspicious” along the inside channel, between the Northern Shore of Lake Superior and the Barrier Islands (from W. Otter Cove to Shaganash Light) . We departed Otter Cove in light fog, which thickened considerably within the hour. Though probably under 25 miles, the route is tricky, with several important waypoints. Though Lake Superior is mostly deep water, with steep shorelines; this passage is a little twisty, closely bordered with lots of rock. Now, at this time, “Auspicious” was still a pretty ‘bare bones’ boat - we had a magnetic compass, and a depth sounder that worked fairly well in shallow water. No Knot-Log, Loran, and GPS was just a pipedream. We piloted by dead reckoning, with Maggie rock-steady on the helm (she can hold a strait compass course for hours, whereas I cannot steer effectively by compass alone), and I doing constant speed/distance calculations (throw a stick overboard and count seconds for 26 Ft. from stem to stern). So after several hours, blind except for a couple of shadowy glimpses of nearby Island (Lasher, Swede); I am expecting to come upon “The” (un-named) rock between Swede & Shaganash. The fairly high - steep rock should appear about 50 yards to port, and we’‘ll pass close to maintaining a single compass heading Shaganash Light (and an ‘easy’ anchorage). A couple hundred yards to the North-West of us (Starboard) lies a terrible nest of rocks (not shown on the linked chartlet). Piece of cake - I’ve continually calculated dozens of E.P.’s, there’s no wind nor current to introduce leeway, and Maggie unfailingly lays the course I command. Our charts are FULLY & copiously annotated with headings, distances, & etc. from previous fair-weather transits, and we KNOW this passage well. I’m so confident, that I’m counting down the SECONDS until the rock appears 50 yards of our Port Bow! The rock appears at exactly my predicted time - but off the Starboard beam. OOPS! It appears that I’ve miscalculated our track (by maybe a couple of degrees), and we’re actually 150 yards South of my E.P. Still no problem - just gooseneck slightly back & right to clear the rock, then reestablish our known heading to Shaganash Light. Now the ‘sounder’ starts telling us unexpected things (here’s an axiom - unexpected things are seldom good things). The bottom is quickly coming up from the expected 40 feet to less than 10 - then 6 (we draw 5.5'). Oops again! Where in hell are we? We’re ‘somewhere’ in that previously mentioned ‘nest of rocks’. We spent the next 2 ½ hours, very slowly sounding our way out of this unfamiliar reef. We were very fortunate in that we caught propitious sightings of several (unknown) rocks & islets, and finally a few glimpses of Shaganash Light, which allowed some rough bearing calculations. I couldn’t begin to describe our track through, and eventually out of, this reef strewn hell - it was a blind meander, accomplished through shear dumb luck, as much as any kind of competence (on my part). So what happened? Upon unexpectedly sighting “A” rock to Starboard (expecting to see ‘The” rock to Port), I (mistakenly) concluded that I was South of ‘The’ rock - when, in fact, it turns out that we were slightly North of “The” Rock (& South of “Another” Rk.) - but still within our intended Channel. Had we ‘jogged’ left a little (to Port), we’d have repositioned ourselves “on track” and carried on, without incident, to Shaganash. Why did I assume that we were completely out of the channel, when it was just a likely that we were merely a little off-centre within the channel? I suspect that, in my heart of hearts, I knew that I was being cavalier, arrogant, and supremely overconfident in my dead reckoning. When I proved (very slightly) wrong, I panicked and totally abandoned my previous assumptions! I then compounded my error by totally abandoning my D.R. assumptions, and attempting radical corrective action. My (over) confidence was not totally unfounded, so I should have assumed the smallest error, and made the smallest (of two) possible corrections. After all, if you cannot have some measure of unshakable self-confidence in what you are doing (whatever it may be), you shouldn’t be doing it. I thought I was wrong, when I was (nearly) right - I’ll (try to) never make that mistake again! For "Chartlet" Go to: http://offroute.com/previewmap/pv-mappage.asp Offroute - Map Preview Then Select: Lattitude 48 25 56 N Longitude 88 21 43 W Then zoom to 10 mi map width - then click "printable: With (uncharactersitic) humility, Gord __________________ Gord May GordMay@Boatpro.zzn.com ~~_/)_~~ (Gord & Maggie - "Southbound") "If you didn't have time to do it right in the first place, when will you get the time to fix it"
1am in the Fog 10 Miles Offshore
Years ago I was caught by suprise fog bank while doing a night sail in an 21' Ensign sailboat. This was about 10 miles north of Fairport Harbor on Lake Erie in the summer. This was in the lates '60s. It was a light/medium density fog that came up in a clear and moonless night. We had a slight breeze so we decided to not start the motor and sailed 180 degrees, due south, back towards Fairport, our home port. We had our life jackets on. We had our navigation lights on. We sounded our lung-powered fog horn. The air and water temperature was in the 70s. Of course we did not have radar,GPS, LORAN, nor VHF. We listened very hard. After about 15 minutes or so we started to hear a faint but deep engine rumble. The sound appeared to be coming from the west. We used a strong lantern to illuminate the mainsail. We continued to blow the fog horn. We started the engine, but kept it at low speed and kept the sails up. We turned on our white masthead navigation light. We were not totally certain of the direction that the other boat was heading. We continued to head south at about 2 knots. Through the fog we started to see the faint glow of lights of a large boat roughly 1000 feet to the west. We quickly decided to stay on our course heading of 180 and put the engine on full-throttle. About 400 feet away a 600 foot ore boat turned all of his lights on including a searchlight. The ore boat passed astern of us by a couple hundred feet doing 20+ knots. We rocked in his wake. Whew, much too close for comfort! The wind cleared the fog 15 minutes later. We had an uneventful yet delightful sail back to Grand River Yacht Club. I regret not using my flares when we first heard the rumble.
Years ago I was caught by suprise fog bank while doing a night sail in an 21' Ensign sailboat. This was about 10 miles north of Fairport Harbor on Lake Erie in the summer. This was in the lates '60s. It was a light/medium density fog that came up in a clear and moonless night. We had a slight breeze so we decided to not start the motor and sailed 180 degrees, due south, back towards Fairport, our home port. We had our life jackets on. We had our navigation lights on. We sounded our lung-powered fog horn. The air and water temperature was in the 70s. Of course we did not have radar,GPS, LORAN, nor VHF. We listened very hard. After about 15 minutes or so we started to hear a faint but deep engine rumble. The sound appeared to be coming from the west. We used a strong lantern to illuminate the mainsail. We continued to blow the fog horn. We started the engine, but kept it at low speed and kept the sails up. We turned on our white masthead navigation light. We were not totally certain of the direction that the other boat was heading. We continued to head south at about 2 knots. Through the fog we started to see the faint glow of lights of a large boat roughly 1000 feet to the west. We quickly decided to stay on our course heading of 180 and put the engine on full-throttle. About 400 feet away a 600 foot ore boat turned all of his lights on including a searchlight. The ore boat passed astern of us by a couple hundred feet doing 20+ knots. We rocked in his wake. Whew, much too close for comfort! The wind cleared the fog 15 minutes later. We had an uneventful yet delightful sail back to Grand River Yacht Club. I regret not using my flares when we first heard the rumble.
Time and Distance
A prudent salior should not rely just on electronics for navagation. Years ago before the advent of inexpensive navagation electronics, we sailed Rhiannon from Sandy Hook to Block Island in fog with visabilties less than a qurater mile at times. Using time dead reconing (time and distance calulation)we found every every inlet bouy along the south coast of Long Island and arrived at New Harbor entrance as perdicted. The only adjustment we made was a five degree course change about 5nm short of our destination to follow thie lobster pot line right to the inlet.
A prudent salior should not rely just on electronics for navagation. Years ago before the advent of inexpensive navagation electronics, we sailed Rhiannon from Sandy Hook to Block Island in fog with visabilties less than a qurater mile at times. Using time dead reconing (time and distance calulation)we found every every inlet bouy along the south coast of Long Island and arrived at New Harbor entrance as perdicted. The only adjustment we made was a five degree course change about 5nm short of our destination to follow thie lobster pot line right to the inlet.
Fog
We have both GPS Plotters and Radar.We also turn on the running lights, slow down and use a mouth horn if we think anyone is close.
We have both GPS Plotters and Radar.We also turn on the running lights, slow down and use a mouth horn if we think anyone is close.
Option #5?
should read: "I've sailed in the fog, took my valium and survived to tell about it." Around here, it seems if you don't sail in the fog, you cut your season in half. Had my share of "learning" opportunities over the years. Recall some years ago I crewed on an Ensign (21'?)for a day trip for the boat to be moved to her summer port. We never had more than 300' visibility; no electronics beyond a hand held VHF and the old salt in command got us in with his DR skills. We found Davis Strait by gently kissing off the granite. On this and all fog-bound journeys I've been on, it's amazing how many lobster trap buoys I misidentify as sail boat masts in the distance. My first solo in our H-30 culminated in the fog. Basic precautions of knowing where I was and using my charts and LORAN got me back to the mooring safely. That experience caused me to develop the practice of keeping horn, PFD, extra batteries, and foulies at the ready when I'm out alone--don't want to be scrambling below looking for these necessities when the conditions are deteriorating.
should read: "I've sailed in the fog, took my valium and survived to tell about it." Around here, it seems if you don't sail in the fog, you cut your season in half. Had my share of "learning" opportunities over the years. Recall some years ago I crewed on an Ensign (21'?)for a day trip for the boat to be moved to her summer port. We never had more than 300' visibility; no electronics beyond a hand held VHF and the old salt in command got us in with his DR skills. We found Davis Strait by gently kissing off the granite. On this and all fog-bound journeys I've been on, it's amazing how many lobster trap buoys I misidentify as sail boat masts in the distance. My first solo in our H-30 culminated in the fog. Basic precautions of knowing where I was and using my charts and LORAN got me back to the mooring safely. That experience caused me to develop the practice of keeping horn, PFD, extra batteries, and foulies at the ready when I'm out alone--don't want to be scrambling below looking for these necessities when the conditions are deteriorating.
soupy-sails
Happened on a clear bright sunny day! suddenly a fog bank enveloped us . We started the engine, retracted the keel, lowered the sails and did dead reconing, until we found a channel marker. it isn't pretty or fun, but a compus would have helped. we had none at that time. never happened again. we were lucky.
Happened on a clear bright sunny day! suddenly a fog bank enveloped us . We started the engine, retracted the keel, lowered the sails and did dead reconing, until we found a channel marker. it isn't pretty or fun, but a compus would have helped. we had none at that time. never happened again. we were lucky.
Fogging it
Sailing and/or motoring in a peasouper is always exciting. Now-a-days GPS and Radar are big aids; however, normal precautions like lookouts, slow speeds and signals still hold. I've had two near miss incidents, one several years ago with an anchored cargo vessel that became visible twenty or 30 yards off my bow while I was underway. The other incident involved a surfacing submarine in Long Island Sound during the 1950's. Very interesting because the fog obscured the smoke flare and the boat sufaced about 100 yards off our beam. Wonder what the sub skipper would have said if we were perched on his deck?
Sailing and/or motoring in a peasouper is always exciting. Now-a-days GPS and Radar are big aids; however, normal precautions like lookouts, slow speeds and signals still hold. I've had two near miss incidents, one several years ago with an anchored cargo vessel that became visible twenty or 30 yards off my bow while I was underway. The other incident involved a surfacing submarine in Long Island Sound during the 1950's. Very interesting because the fog obscured the smoke flare and the boat sufaced about 100 yards off our beam. Wonder what the sub skipper would have said if we were perched on his deck?
Temp can't drop below the Dew Point...
Hey Gary.. GPS and Radar... but like a pilot, avoid areas where Temp/Dew Points are within 2 degrees of each other... or wait it out... the merging of temp and dew points are indicators of probable reduced visibility...
Hey Gary.. GPS and Radar... but like a pilot, avoid areas where Temp/Dew Points are within 2 degrees of each other... or wait it out... the merging of temp and dew points are indicators of probable reduced visibility...
Surrounded
I've never sailed in fog. No wind. But I have motored in fog, accidently on purpose. At first it was ok, I could still see behind me. But when the fog surrounded me I became concerned. *o The sound of my motor drowned out any sounds of other boats on the lake. I would stop, listen, blow my whistle three times and continue on. I headed for the dam and spillway, qued by automobile traffic noise and inched my way back to my harbor, skirting the shore as I went. Interesting but I won't do that again.
I've never sailed in fog. No wind. But I have motored in fog, accidently on purpose. At first it was ok, I could still see behind me. But when the fog surrounded me I became concerned. *o The sound of my motor drowned out any sounds of other boats on the lake. I would stop, listen, blow my whistle three times and continue on. I headed for the dam and spillway, qued by automobile traffic noise and inched my way back to my harbor, skirting the shore as I went. Interesting but I won't do that again.
Fog
All of the basic safety precautions apply as you face this danger. No matter what toys we have it is important to use the whole range of tools from basic navigation skils thru gps radar depth machine and listening carefully. I agree with my friend Thom's earlier thread, here in Maine if you don't go in fog you lose our already short season. The problem is that with all the new toys more of us are out there and the danger is multiplied especially as we head toward the same GPS mark. Take care out there and enjoy. Be ready and safe. S/V Gandalf PS the survey does not include any prudent reply. Clearly giving fog a healthy respect and being prepared makes it safer but it is still a danger to be taken seriously. Pax
All of the basic safety precautions apply as you face this danger. No matter what toys we have it is important to use the whole range of tools from basic navigation skils thru gps radar depth machine and listening carefully. I agree with my friend Thom's earlier thread, here in Maine if you don't go in fog you lose our already short season. The problem is that with all the new toys more of us are out there and the danger is multiplied especially as we head toward the same GPS mark. Take care out there and enjoy. Be ready and safe. S/V Gandalf PS the survey does not include any prudent reply. Clearly giving fog a healthy respect and being prepared makes it safer but it is still a danger to be taken seriously. Pax
Securite
We don't have a lot of radio chatter on Lk. Superior - so a "Securite" message, repeated every so often, can be useful in fog. "Securite, Securite, Hellow all stations, this is the s/v 'Whatever' at (location) making a speed of yy knots, on a course of xx Degrees."
We don't have a lot of radio chatter on Lk. Superior - so a "Securite" message, repeated every so often, can be useful in fog. "Securite, Securite, Hellow all stations, this is the s/v 'Whatever' at (location) making a speed of yy knots, on a course of xx Degrees."
Sailing in Fog --- Scary Moments
It was one of those days when you wonder whether you've lost your wits. We were leaving Dana Point for a yacht club outing at Oceanside, about 25 miles southwest. There was a bit of fog when we left, but the wind was blowing nicely in the right direction to have a good reach down the coast. We had been to Oceanside before and knew that it is a tricky entrance in clear weather, very difficult in fog or darkness. "Don't worry," said the skipper to the first mate, "the fog will clear with this wind blowing.Let's do it." Of course, the fog didn't clear, it got thicker as we got further from our home port. And, of course, we only had a compass and RDF --- no GPS, YET! About an hour out, heading under dead reckoning, the first mate on the foredeck as eyes and ears, I hear the question: "do you see the dog in front of us, running along the beach?" Sure enough, just beyond the breaker line about ten feet in front of us, was a dog running from left to right across our heading. Obviously, a quick turn to starboard was in order and that was executed with great dispatch, and a lot of sail flailing. We proceeded on a new course, away from the coast and about an hour later, "feeling" that we should be near Oceanside entrance we came across a couple of kids in a small fishing skiff. We asked them if they knew where the harbor entrance was and they said that they had just come out and it was directly to our port side. A quick radio call to our yacht club entourage had an escort boat out to meet us and guide us up the channel to the anchorage. That evening the fog worsened and we barely found our way back to the anchored boats from our shore barbeque but the next morning dawned bright and clear with great winds for a reach back. As Shakespeare so aptly said,"All's well that ends well."
It was one of those days when you wonder whether you've lost your wits. We were leaving Dana Point for a yacht club outing at Oceanside, about 25 miles southwest. There was a bit of fog when we left, but the wind was blowing nicely in the right direction to have a good reach down the coast. We had been to Oceanside before and knew that it is a tricky entrance in clear weather, very difficult in fog or darkness. "Don't worry," said the skipper to the first mate, "the fog will clear with this wind blowing.Let's do it." Of course, the fog didn't clear, it got thicker as we got further from our home port. And, of course, we only had a compass and RDF --- no GPS, YET! About an hour out, heading under dead reckoning, the first mate on the foredeck as eyes and ears, I hear the question: "do you see the dog in front of us, running along the beach?" Sure enough, just beyond the breaker line about ten feet in front of us, was a dog running from left to right across our heading. Obviously, a quick turn to starboard was in order and that was executed with great dispatch, and a lot of sail flailing. We proceeded on a new course, away from the coast and about an hour later, "feeling" that we should be near Oceanside entrance we came across a couple of kids in a small fishing skiff. We asked them if they knew where the harbor entrance was and they said that they had just come out and it was directly to our port side. A quick radio call to our yacht club entourage had an escort boat out to meet us and guide us up the channel to the anchorage. That evening the fog worsened and we barely found our way back to the anchored boats from our shore barbeque but the next morning dawned bright and clear with great winds for a reach back. As Shakespeare so aptly said,"All's well that ends well."
FOGGY AND CLEAR SAILING
MANY YEARS AGO, WE HAD A 25'WESTERLY TIGER WITH ONLY A MAGNETIC COMPASS, ROUND DEPTH FINDER, NAUTICAL CHARTS, WRIST WATCH, MOUTH POWERED FOG HORN AND OUR VHF SHIP'S RADIO. wE LEFT POINT JUDITH IN DENSE FOG,THERE WAS NO WIND. WE HAD PLOTTED THE COURSES TO MYSTIC SEAPORT AND THEN TO THREE MILE HARBOR, NY. MY NAVIGATOR/HELM PERSON WAS MY WIFE, WHO CAN STEER A COURSE BY COMPASS EVEN BETTER THAN PERFECTLY. WE MOTORED ALONG RHODE ISLAND'S SHORE PASSING ANCHORED FISHERMEN WHO WERE UNSEEN UNTIL WE WERE WITHIN 30 FEET OF THEM AS THEY ANSWERED OUR FOG SIGNALS WITH A POLICE TYPE WHISTLE. THEY ASKED US WHAT WE WERE DOING OUT IN THIS FOG? WE LAUGHED AND ASKED THEM THE SAME QUESTION. WE PASSED THROUGH WATCH HILL PASSAGE USING THE DEPTH SOUNDER AND NEVER SAW THE BUOYS, BUT HEARD THEM ON EACH SIDE. THE FOG LIFTED IN FISHERS ISLAND SOUND AND WE SPENT THE NIGHT AT MYSTIC SEAPORT. NEXT MORNING, NO WIND, WE LEFT MYSTIC, LEAVING FISHERS ISLAND TO PORT ENTERED THE RACE AT SLACK HIGH WATER AND DENSE FOG. ON CHANNEL 16 "AMERICAN eAGLE" ANNOUNCED THEY WERE TRANSITING THE RACE OUTBOUND AND WE HEARD THEIR FOG SIGNALS. THE RACE IS THE BOUNDARY BETWEEN LONG ISLAND SOUND AND BLOCK ISLAND SOUND AND ON INTO THE ATLANTIC OCEAN. WE ALTERED COURSE TO STARBOARD, PUTTING OUR BOW ON THE DIRECTION OF THEIR FOG HORN SOUND AND FOLLOWED THE SOUND TO PORT UNTIL WE WERE BACK ON OUR COURSE. WE DIDN'T SEE THEM NOR THEIR WAKE AS WE CONTINUED AT OUR 5 KNOT SPEED UNDER POWER. PASSING SOUTH OF LITTLE GULL ISLAND AT THE WESTERN END OF THE RACE, WE SAW A VAGUE SHAPE CROSS OUR BOW AND CIRCLE TO INTERCEPT US ON OUR STARBOARD SIDE. THEY STOPPED WITH THEIR BOW 30 FEET AWAY AS WE ALSO STOPPED. tWO MEN ON THE BOW OF WHAT WAS ABOUT AN OVER 50 FOOT YACHT HAILED US AND ASKED THE WAY TO NEW LONDON CT! HERE WE WERE ABOUT 300 FEET FROM LITTLE GULL ISLAND WHICH IS A BIG PILE OF ROCKS AND THEY DON'T KNOW THEIR LOCATION! IT SEEMS THEIR RADAR, WAS OUT, NO CHARTS AND LOST IN THE FOG NEXT TO A PILE OF ROCKS! THEY SAID THEIR COMPASS WAS OK SO WE GAVE THEM DIRECTIONS AND OFF THEY WENT STILL NOT SOUNDING THEIR FOG SIGNALS! WE CONTINUED ON, PASSING NORTH OF GARDINERS ISLAND AND THE RUINS AT 1GI. TO CLEAR THE ISLAND AND RUINS, WE WATCHED OUR DEPTH SOUNDER UNTIL IT SHOWED THE OVER 1OO FOOT DEPTH SOUTH OF PLUM ISLAND. THEN WE TURNED TO THE SOUTH AND CONTINUED TOWARD THREE MILE HARBOR. PASSING THE AUDIBLE BELL AT "TM" WE ENTERED THE CHANNEL BETWEEN THE BREAKWATERS INTO THREE MILE HARBOR AND KNEW WE WERE HOME AS WE HEARD VOICES ON THE BEACH NEXT TO THE CHANNEL. THE FOG THINNED AS WE PROCEEDED INTO THE HARBOR, THANKFUL FOR A GOOD TRIP, GOOD HELMS PERSON, GOOD CHART WORK AND OUR GUARDIAN ANGEL! WE WOULD NOT HAVE MADE THE TRIP, BUT WE HAD AN APPOINTMENT AND WE ENJOYED THE CHALLENGE UNDER CALM CONDITIONS AND GOOD PREPARATION. EVERY BOATER SHOULD DO THIS UNDER CLEAR CONDITIONS SO THEY CAN DO IT IF THEIR GPS CONKS OUT. AIRLINE PILOTS DO THAT ALL THE TIME!
MANY YEARS AGO, WE HAD A 25'WESTERLY TIGER WITH ONLY A MAGNETIC COMPASS, ROUND DEPTH FINDER, NAUTICAL CHARTS, WRIST WATCH, MOUTH POWERED FOG HORN AND OUR VHF SHIP'S RADIO. wE LEFT POINT JUDITH IN DENSE FOG,THERE WAS NO WIND. WE HAD PLOTTED THE COURSES TO MYSTIC SEAPORT AND THEN TO THREE MILE HARBOR, NY. MY NAVIGATOR/HELM PERSON WAS MY WIFE, WHO CAN STEER A COURSE BY COMPASS EVEN BETTER THAN PERFECTLY. WE MOTORED ALONG RHODE ISLAND'S SHORE PASSING ANCHORED FISHERMEN WHO WERE UNSEEN UNTIL WE WERE WITHIN 30 FEET OF THEM AS THEY ANSWERED OUR FOG SIGNALS WITH A POLICE TYPE WHISTLE. THEY ASKED US WHAT WE WERE DOING OUT IN THIS FOG? WE LAUGHED AND ASKED THEM THE SAME QUESTION. WE PASSED THROUGH WATCH HILL PASSAGE USING THE DEPTH SOUNDER AND NEVER SAW THE BUOYS, BUT HEARD THEM ON EACH SIDE. THE FOG LIFTED IN FISHERS ISLAND SOUND AND WE SPENT THE NIGHT AT MYSTIC SEAPORT. NEXT MORNING, NO WIND, WE LEFT MYSTIC, LEAVING FISHERS ISLAND TO PORT ENTERED THE RACE AT SLACK HIGH WATER AND DENSE FOG. ON CHANNEL 16 "AMERICAN eAGLE" ANNOUNCED THEY WERE TRANSITING THE RACE OUTBOUND AND WE HEARD THEIR FOG SIGNALS. THE RACE IS THE BOUNDARY BETWEEN LONG ISLAND SOUND AND BLOCK ISLAND SOUND AND ON INTO THE ATLANTIC OCEAN. WE ALTERED COURSE TO STARBOARD, PUTTING OUR BOW ON THE DIRECTION OF THEIR FOG HORN SOUND AND FOLLOWED THE SOUND TO PORT UNTIL WE WERE BACK ON OUR COURSE. WE DIDN'T SEE THEM NOR THEIR WAKE AS WE CONTINUED AT OUR 5 KNOT SPEED UNDER POWER. PASSING SOUTH OF LITTLE GULL ISLAND AT THE WESTERN END OF THE RACE, WE SAW A VAGUE SHAPE CROSS OUR BOW AND CIRCLE TO INTERCEPT US ON OUR STARBOARD SIDE. THEY STOPPED WITH THEIR BOW 30 FEET AWAY AS WE ALSO STOPPED. tWO MEN ON THE BOW OF WHAT WAS ABOUT AN OVER 50 FOOT YACHT HAILED US AND ASKED THE WAY TO NEW LONDON CT! HERE WE WERE ABOUT 300 FEET FROM LITTLE GULL ISLAND WHICH IS A BIG PILE OF ROCKS AND THEY DON'T KNOW THEIR LOCATION! IT SEEMS THEIR RADAR, WAS OUT, NO CHARTS AND LOST IN THE FOG NEXT TO A PILE OF ROCKS! THEY SAID THEIR COMPASS WAS OK SO WE GAVE THEM DIRECTIONS AND OFF THEY WENT STILL NOT SOUNDING THEIR FOG SIGNALS! WE CONTINUED ON, PASSING NORTH OF GARDINERS ISLAND AND THE RUINS AT 1GI. TO CLEAR THE ISLAND AND RUINS, WE WATCHED OUR DEPTH SOUNDER UNTIL IT SHOWED THE OVER 1OO FOOT DEPTH SOUTH OF PLUM ISLAND. THEN WE TURNED TO THE SOUTH AND CONTINUED TOWARD THREE MILE HARBOR. PASSING THE AUDIBLE BELL AT "TM" WE ENTERED THE CHANNEL BETWEEN THE BREAKWATERS INTO THREE MILE HARBOR AND KNEW WE WERE HOME AS WE HEARD VOICES ON THE BEACH NEXT TO THE CHANNEL. THE FOG THINNED AS WE PROCEEDED INTO THE HARBOR, THANKFUL FOR A GOOD TRIP, GOOD HELMS PERSON, GOOD CHART WORK AND OUR GUARDIAN ANGEL! WE WOULD NOT HAVE MADE THE TRIP, BUT WE HAD AN APPOINTMENT AND WE ENJOYED THE CHALLENGE UNDER CALM CONDITIONS AND GOOD PREPARATION. EVERY BOATER SHOULD DO THIS UNDER CLEAR CONDITIONS SO THEY CAN DO IT IF THEIR GPS CONKS OUT. AIRLINE PILOTS DO THAT ALL THE TIME!
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