Since the time we were kids, most of us have liked to hear stories. Now that we're "grown-ups," most of us like to tell them. What's your favorite sailing story? Is it a story of unexpected winds and seas you were able to overcome? Maybe it's how you outfoxed and out sailed your entire racing fleet to a win? Perhaps it's a really funny story about something dumb you did or saw someone else do, or a clever jury rig that enabled you to get back to your marina? Tell your favorite sailing story here, then vote in the Quick Quiz at the bottom of the home page. (Quiz by Gary Wyngarden)
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Outboard gone bad?
I was sailing at dusk with a very inexperienced crew off of the coast of Atlantic City. The boat I owned at that time was a Pearson 26 with a very dated 10 horse Chrysler hanging off the transom. It was the kind of motor that we all love to tell stories about: It was in dire need of a paint job, It was leaking gear oil into water, the inside of the lower unit was full of corrosion, it smoked like a farm tractor and the thing that made me the happiest with it was that it ran like a tank. I swore by it and thought that nothing would kill it. As dusk turned into night the real adventure began. My all female crew lost their zest for sailing and I dropped the motor into the water to head back in. It cranked but would not turn over. As the channel is very wide and the evening hours limit the amount of power boaters that you have to deal with, sailing through the channel represented no problem. Navigating into the cove to reach my slip was quite another story. The entrance is, at best, 35 feet wide and very shallow on one end. And of course it was low tide at the time. If there was any other vessel coming out at that time, things could have gotten ugly. I went in under main alone and had to use my tiller in a skulling manner periodically to limit the drive I got from the sail, as we were in 12 knots of wind. Save a minor bump into the bulkhead upon landing, things worked out incredibly. To make a long story short, everything worked out. The girls were happy to back onshore and I learned a very valuable lesson: Always check your fuel tank prior to leaving the dock, no matter how much faith you have in your motor!
I was sailing at dusk with a very inexperienced crew off of the coast of Atlantic City. The boat I owned at that time was a Pearson 26 with a very dated 10 horse Chrysler hanging off the transom. It was the kind of motor that we all love to tell stories about: It was in dire need of a paint job, It was leaking gear oil into water, the inside of the lower unit was full of corrosion, it smoked like a farm tractor and the thing that made me the happiest with it was that it ran like a tank. I swore by it and thought that nothing would kill it. As dusk turned into night the real adventure began. My all female crew lost their zest for sailing and I dropped the motor into the water to head back in. It cranked but would not turn over. As the channel is very wide and the evening hours limit the amount of power boaters that you have to deal with, sailing through the channel represented no problem. Navigating into the cove to reach my slip was quite another story. The entrance is, at best, 35 feet wide and very shallow on one end. And of course it was low tide at the time. If there was any other vessel coming out at that time, things could have gotten ugly. I went in under main alone and had to use my tiller in a skulling manner periodically to limit the drive I got from the sail, as we were in 12 knots of wind. Save a minor bump into the bulkhead upon landing, things worked out incredibly. To make a long story short, everything worked out. The girls were happy to back onshore and I learned a very valuable lesson: Always check your fuel tank prior to leaving the dock, no matter how much faith you have in your motor!
Less than zero crew
I found a "friend" who for a small price $100 would help me sail my Cal 33 from cape cod,MA to newport,RI and the return voyage as well (8hrs). He slept most of the trip down, woke up 45 minutes outside of newport, ask me 13 times "how much further" I was happy to point to the newport bridge, and reply "right there mate," with a time update. He kept himself fit for hooking the mooring by refusing to take the helm, hoist a sail, pull a jib sheet or cook the steaks. Arriving in Newport harbor with great skill my crewman hooked the mooring on the first try! The return voyage I had expected the same sleeping crewman, so I tested the autopilot, made sure I was prepared for single-handed sailing. Disaster struck when he couldn't sleep. Enduring 8hours of non-stop "are we there yet" "how much further" "what time will we arrive" "I'm tired this is not fun" "do you have any good dvd's I've already seen all these films" With my ear drums hurting, and only 30 minutes from shore, I offered $350 if he wouldn't complain or ask are we there yet. I said please, talk about your job, or your girlfriend, or movies that you'd like to see- anything else and I'll add the bonus to your fee. Regardless of the money and lacking any self-restraint, my crewman couldn't last five minutes. But on the good side he did save me $350 of which I'll put to use on buying some better dvd's.
I found a "friend" who for a small price $100 would help me sail my Cal 33 from cape cod,MA to newport,RI and the return voyage as well (8hrs). He slept most of the trip down, woke up 45 minutes outside of newport, ask me 13 times "how much further" I was happy to point to the newport bridge, and reply "right there mate," with a time update. He kept himself fit for hooking the mooring by refusing to take the helm, hoist a sail, pull a jib sheet or cook the steaks. Arriving in Newport harbor with great skill my crewman hooked the mooring on the first try! The return voyage I had expected the same sleeping crewman, so I tested the autopilot, made sure I was prepared for single-handed sailing. Disaster struck when he couldn't sleep. Enduring 8hours of non-stop "are we there yet" "how much further" "what time will we arrive" "I'm tired this is not fun" "do you have any good dvd's I've already seen all these films" With my ear drums hurting, and only 30 minutes from shore, I offered $350 if he wouldn't complain or ask are we there yet. I said please, talk about your job, or your girlfriend, or movies that you'd like to see- anything else and I'll add the bonus to your fee. Regardless of the money and lacking any self-restraint, my crewman couldn't last five minutes. But on the good side he did save me $350 of which I'll put to use on buying some better dvd's.
Back to School Sail
Each year near the beginning of school we sail to Seattle and my better half goes up to Nordstrom's so she can buy her back to school clothes. With out a doubt it's the most expensive trip of the season but an excellent way to go shopping. The trip is now known as our "Annual Back to School Labor day Sail to Nordstrom's"
Each year near the beginning of school we sail to Seattle and my better half goes up to Nordstrom's so she can buy her back to school clothes. With out a doubt it's the most expensive trip of the season but an excellent way to go shopping. The trip is now known as our "Annual Back to School Labor day Sail to Nordstrom's"
Who would you rather have with you???
This goes back to my Hobie sailing days. One afternoon, my wife and I sailed out of the resort we were staying at on Kentucky Lake and, with winds blowing briskly out of the west, had a fantastic day of sailing up and down the lake. Winds were up enough that we were flying a hull a good part of the time, taking turns out on the trapeze. Great sailing, but exhausting. Eventually, it comes time to head in, so we turn back towards the resort, which is up one of the many coves off of Kentucky Lake, on the west side. Hmm, wind is out of the west, that means tacking back to the resort. Hmm, this cove keeps getting narrower as we try to get closer to the resort, and is it my imagination or are the trees on either side acting like a tunnel and channelling the wind even more into our face? Well, after about 30-45 minutes of tacking back and forth, making no progress, and getting more and more tired, I start muttering under my breath. I'm wishing that Hobies had motors, I'm cursing Mother Nature, I'm trying to remember who picked a resort to far off the main lake, I'm wondering whose stupid idea it was to go sailing anyway. In her quite earnest attempt to make the situation better, my lovely bride points out to me that it's a beautiful sunny day, that we've had a wonderful afternoon sailing, and besides, who would I rather be spending time with than her. The first words to come out of my mouth? "Dennis Connor, at least then we might have someone who could tack us up this cove!" That earned me a smack from my wife, and I'm not talking about the lips. Fortunately, my folks happened to be coming back from the big lake in their ski boat and were kind enough to give us a tow back in. My wife still won't let me live down my response, but at least now she laughs about it! T J
This goes back to my Hobie sailing days. One afternoon, my wife and I sailed out of the resort we were staying at on Kentucky Lake and, with winds blowing briskly out of the west, had a fantastic day of sailing up and down the lake. Winds were up enough that we were flying a hull a good part of the time, taking turns out on the trapeze. Great sailing, but exhausting. Eventually, it comes time to head in, so we turn back towards the resort, which is up one of the many coves off of Kentucky Lake, on the west side. Hmm, wind is out of the west, that means tacking back to the resort. Hmm, this cove keeps getting narrower as we try to get closer to the resort, and is it my imagination or are the trees on either side acting like a tunnel and channelling the wind even more into our face? Well, after about 30-45 minutes of tacking back and forth, making no progress, and getting more and more tired, I start muttering under my breath. I'm wishing that Hobies had motors, I'm cursing Mother Nature, I'm trying to remember who picked a resort to far off the main lake, I'm wondering whose stupid idea it was to go sailing anyway. In her quite earnest attempt to make the situation better, my lovely bride points out to me that it's a beautiful sunny day, that we've had a wonderful afternoon sailing, and besides, who would I rather be spending time with than her. The first words to come out of my mouth? "Dennis Connor, at least then we might have someone who could tack us up this cove!" That earned me a smack from my wife, and I'm not talking about the lips. Fortunately, my folks happened to be coming back from the big lake in their ski boat and were kind enough to give us a tow back in. My wife still won't let me live down my response, but at least now she laughs about it! T J
Manhasset Bay Junior Race Week
Each summer through my adolescence I crewed on one-designs in Junior Race Week and (senior) Race Week on Manhasset Bay, LI, and in Larchmont Race Week on the other side of Long Island Sound. In the late 1950s I was crewing on a Blue J in Junior Race Week. There must have been between 50 to 100 boats in all the classes. On one of the days a line squall came toward us just before the Blue J start, reached us, and in no time capsized every boat. Parents on shore a mile or more away were watching, and, as I now understand, were quite worried. With some help from "crash boats" (Boston Whalers probably) giving tows, when we all came in after the adventure, I recall my mother saying, "We saw the squall hit. It was very black out there. You must have been frightened." I replied, "No! It was great!" The other young sailors within earshot, still soaked, nodded in agreement. When you're young you see things differently.
Each summer through my adolescence I crewed on one-designs in Junior Race Week and (senior) Race Week on Manhasset Bay, LI, and in Larchmont Race Week on the other side of Long Island Sound. In the late 1950s I was crewing on a Blue J in Junior Race Week. There must have been between 50 to 100 boats in all the classes. On one of the days a line squall came toward us just before the Blue J start, reached us, and in no time capsized every boat. Parents on shore a mile or more away were watching, and, as I now understand, were quite worried. With some help from "crash boats" (Boston Whalers probably) giving tows, when we all came in after the adventure, I recall my mother saying, "We saw the squall hit. It was very black out there. You must have been frightened." I replied, "No! It was great!" The other young sailors within earshot, still soaked, nodded in agreement. When you're young you see things differently.
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I wrote a story about an experiance i had, but it is kind of long. I am writing a book on that trip, so if you guys would like me post my story (4 pages double spaced) i would love to do so.
I wrote a story about an experiance i had, but it is kind of long. I am writing a book on that trip, so if you guys would like me post my story (4 pages double spaced) i would love to do so.
Wind Point Gale
T.J. of Racine reminded me of my racing weekend in the late 1980's at the Racine Yacht Club "Racine On The Lake" event for multi-hulls. I came with my Hobie 16 with crew for a fantastically organized regatta at a beautiful beach on the shore of Lake Michigan in late July or August. Saturday morning was a beautiful, clear day ... on the beach. Unfortunately, visibility on the water was less than 50'. You see, in the middle of a hot spell in the midwest, Lake Michigan's temperature inversions can flip, causing 50 degree water to rise to the surface. Thus, it was 90 degrees and sunny while playing volleyball on the beach and it was wetsuit conditions and zero visibility on the water. The organizers promised that a breeze off the land would soon clear the fog and racing would be delayed only temporarily. Later in the afternoon, for lack of anything else to do, the organizers held a watermellon hunt. We floated around out in the lake on our Hobie Cats searching for watermellons bobbing in the water! No matter, Sunday promised to be a better day and there was plenty of beer and brats and plenty to laugh about all night long! Sunday indeed, started with better conditions. It was overcast and a little chilly with a fresh wind coming out of the North. We rigged our catamarans and held the skippers meeting. The first race was about to begin and everybody began preparing to launch off the beach. What happened next was one of the most incredible scenes I have ever witnessed. *yks A gale came around Wind Point which lies several miles to the north. Power boats where racing for cover in the harbor. A line of white caps and waves could be be seen advancing toward us at over 40 knots at least. Everybody sat on their boats waiting to see what would happen. Nobody made a move for the water. When the wind was upon us, all hands were required to keep the boats, most with sails already up, from tumbling down the beach. After about a half hour of gale force winds keeping anybody from doing anything except holding boats down, the wind slackened enough for people to start dismanteling. It was time to give up on any racing for this weekend! Some of us decided to have lunch and see what kind of sailing we might be able to enjoy in the afternoon. Afterall, it was a beautiful beach to sail from. By the time we got out on the water, we had lumpy seas and slack sails. Not too long after, I moved to the east coast and never got a chance to visit that location again. It's too bad because I think it is a great place!
T.J. of Racine reminded me of my racing weekend in the late 1980's at the Racine Yacht Club "Racine On The Lake" event for multi-hulls. I came with my Hobie 16 with crew for a fantastically organized regatta at a beautiful beach on the shore of Lake Michigan in late July or August. Saturday morning was a beautiful, clear day ... on the beach. Unfortunately, visibility on the water was less than 50'. You see, in the middle of a hot spell in the midwest, Lake Michigan's temperature inversions can flip, causing 50 degree water to rise to the surface. Thus, it was 90 degrees and sunny while playing volleyball on the beach and it was wetsuit conditions and zero visibility on the water. The organizers promised that a breeze off the land would soon clear the fog and racing would be delayed only temporarily. Later in the afternoon, for lack of anything else to do, the organizers held a watermellon hunt. We floated around out in the lake on our Hobie Cats searching for watermellons bobbing in the water! No matter, Sunday promised to be a better day and there was plenty of beer and brats and plenty to laugh about all night long! Sunday indeed, started with better conditions. It was overcast and a little chilly with a fresh wind coming out of the North. We rigged our catamarans and held the skippers meeting. The first race was about to begin and everybody began preparing to launch off the beach. What happened next was one of the most incredible scenes I have ever witnessed. *yks A gale came around Wind Point which lies several miles to the north. Power boats where racing for cover in the harbor. A line of white caps and waves could be be seen advancing toward us at over 40 knots at least. Everybody sat on their boats waiting to see what would happen. Nobody made a move for the water. When the wind was upon us, all hands were required to keep the boats, most with sails already up, from tumbling down the beach. After about a half hour of gale force winds keeping anybody from doing anything except holding boats down, the wind slackened enough for people to start dismanteling. It was time to give up on any racing for this weekend! Some of us decided to have lunch and see what kind of sailing we might be able to enjoy in the afternoon. Afterall, it was a beautiful beach to sail from. By the time we got out on the water, we had lumpy seas and slack sails. Not too long after, I moved to the east coast and never got a chance to visit that location again. It's too bad because I think it is a great place!
My Now ex-wife and the dancer
Some time ago, I owned a small 16ft daysailer. On the day in question my now ex-wife and I sailed into Honeymoon Cove to do some fishing. After about a half hour of casting my ex informed me she was done fishing and wanted to leave. I hoisted the anchor, raised the main and jib, and proceeded to tack out of the small cove. The first port tack took us past a large speedboat with a topless sunbather on board. Tring not to look, I made my tack and headed away from the beauty. On my second port tack we had only made about 5ft of forward progress. This meant we were now only 5 feet past the topless woman. By the look on my now ex-wifes face I knew it was time to tack. Each port tack took us 5 feet further away from the sunbather. The cove was long and narrow and my ex was sure I was intentionally tacking to see the topless woman who was now putting on a real show. Now my ex was on the bow of our boat tring to hail a fishing boat to tow us out or the cove. By the time she was able to get a fishing boat to notice us (over the dancer) I was on my last tack and on a reach out of the cove. She never sailed with me again.
Some time ago, I owned a small 16ft daysailer. On the day in question my now ex-wife and I sailed into Honeymoon Cove to do some fishing. After about a half hour of casting my ex informed me she was done fishing and wanted to leave. I hoisted the anchor, raised the main and jib, and proceeded to tack out of the small cove. The first port tack took us past a large speedboat with a topless sunbather on board. Tring not to look, I made my tack and headed away from the beauty. On my second port tack we had only made about 5ft of forward progress. This meant we were now only 5 feet past the topless woman. By the look on my now ex-wifes face I knew it was time to tack. Each port tack took us 5 feet further away from the sunbather. The cove was long and narrow and my ex was sure I was intentionally tacking to see the topless woman who was now putting on a real show. Now my ex was on the bow of our boat tring to hail a fishing boat to tow us out or the cove. By the time she was able to get a fishing boat to notice us (over the dancer) I was on my last tack and on a reach out of the cove. She never sailed with me again.
HOBIE CATS N, SNOW
Late Oct, Orchard lake minnesota, I had waited all summer for a good deal on a 16' Hobie Cat ; picked it up fro the dealer, took it to the friends house on the lake to store for the winter. After a couple of barleys one of them talked me into putting the cat in the water." alight breeze carried us accross the lake and she handled well, then snow and 30 knots hit us from out of no where ,we had one sponson out of the water, hanging out on trapeze and 200 metres out we turtled her, fortunatly we wore life vests and were quickly rescued by the local game warden who was on the water checking duck hunters...a memory of 1972
Late Oct, Orchard lake minnesota, I had waited all summer for a good deal on a 16' Hobie Cat ; picked it up fro the dealer, took it to the friends house on the lake to store for the winter. After a couple of barleys one of them talked me into putting the cat in the water." alight breeze carried us accross the lake and she handled well, then snow and 30 knots hit us from out of no where ,we had one sponson out of the water, hanging out on trapeze and 200 metres out we turtled her, fortunatly we wore life vests and were quickly rescued by the local game warden who was on the water checking duck hunters...a memory of 1972
He Said - She Said
This sea story is to long to post here but if you are interested I can send you the story 67 pages. You will find this a real adventure with lots of humor on the upper coast of British Columbia. To get in touch with me go to my web page http://www.macgregor-boats.com/fscott/fscott.html and I will get back to you. Fred Scott
This sea story is to long to post here but if you are interested I can send you the story 67 pages. You will find this a real adventure with lots of humor on the upper coast of British Columbia. To get in touch with me go to my web page http://www.macgregor-boats.com/fscott/fscott.html and I will get back to you. Fred Scott
Outboards....gotta love em...
For our honeymoon my wife and I chartered a CS 36 from Bimini Yacht Charters (yea, a while ago We left St.Thomas and sailed around St.John to a bay with Watermelon in the name. Don Streets cruising guide said if we drew less than 5 ft we could get up in a mangrove lined bay called Mary's Creek, if memory serves. I had not been sailing for a few years prior to this and forgot to secure the oars in the dinghy on the way around. Of course they got lost, out of the boat. The second night we were there my wife ran out of cigarettes. Being the good guy that I was, I said I would go up to the boats anchored about a mile to windward, and see about bumming some for her. As I got about 50 feet from our boat the dinghy motor quit. I asked my wife to throw me a line, as I drifted past, but she didn't make it to me. In the short period when the big boat was close enough to jump in the water and take the painter to it, I didn't try. Maybe I should have, but as a former volunteer firefighter/EMT I've participated in the searches for people who do stupid things, and too quickly it became a matter of swimming and towing the dinghy, which I was sure I could not do. Eventually I drifted into the mangroves, and although I could hear a road, I could not find a way through them. As I drifted and every 10 minutes or so, I tapped out an S-O-S on the flashlight which I had been smart enough to bring. After about an hour, I heard a dinghy engine coming up in the dark, and a voice ask if I wanted/needed help. I made sure they were well appreciated, and they towed me back to my spouse. They also went back to their boat and got some cigarettes The next day I called Bimini and they sent a guy out to look at the engine and he fixed it in short order. What do you think the big engine malfunction was? I had forgotten to open the vent on the gas tank, so once it had used enough air that it was creating a vacume, the motor stopped
For our honeymoon my wife and I chartered a CS 36 from Bimini Yacht Charters (yea, a while ago
We left St.Thomas and sailed around St.John to a bay with Watermelon in the name. Don Streets cruising guide said if we drew less than 5 ft we could get up in a mangrove lined bay called Mary's Creek, if memory serves. I had not been sailing for a few years prior to this and forgot to secure the oars in the dinghy on the way around. Of course they got lost, out of the boat. The second night we were there my wife ran out of cigarettes. Being the good guy that I was, I said I would go up to the boats anchored about a mile to windward, and see about bumming some for her. As I got about 50 feet from our boat the dinghy motor quit. I asked my wife to throw me a line, as I drifted past, but she didn't make it to me. In the short period when the big boat was close enough to jump in the water and take the painter to it, I didn't try. Maybe I should have, but as a former volunteer firefighter/EMT I've participated in the searches for people who do stupid things, and too quickly it became a matter of swimming and towing the dinghy, which I was sure I could not do. Eventually I drifted into the mangroves, and although I could hear a road, I could not find a way through them. As I drifted and every 10 minutes or so, I tapped out an S-O-S on the flashlight which I had been smart enough to bring. After about an hour, I heard a dinghy engine coming up in the dark, and a voice ask if I wanted/needed help. I made sure they were well appreciated, and they towed me back to my spouse. They also went back to their boat and got some cigarettes The next day I called Bimini and they sent a guy out to look at the engine and he fixed it in short order. What do you think the big engine malfunction was? I had forgotten to open the vent on the gas tank, so once it had used enough air that it was creating a vacume, the motor stopped Holy Sheet
One summer I was teaching my 16 year-old son how to sail our Catalina 22 on a lake in Baklersfield. As we docked the boat, I had him release the sails and ready the boat for the trailer. I backed the trailer down the ramp and we successfully loaded the boat on the first try, as I was heading down the parking lot, I heard my son yell "Stop Dad !!!" I peered into my driver side rearview mirror and saw the Catalina heeling leeward, with the Main at half mast, nice and full. Thinking about how I'm going to explain to the crane operator what my boat was doing in the parking lot among all the laughing power boaters, fisherman, etc..., I cranked the steering wheel downwind as I slowly applied the brakes and watched the Catalina land nicely back on the trailer. Whew!!! My son applauded, we all laughed, and from now always check to make sure the sails are down and the sheets untied.
One summer I was teaching my 16 year-old son how to sail our Catalina 22 on a lake in Baklersfield. As we docked the boat, I had him release the sails and ready the boat for the trailer. I backed the trailer down the ramp and we successfully loaded the boat on the first try, as I was heading down the parking lot, I heard my son yell "Stop Dad !!!" I peered into my driver side rearview mirror and saw the Catalina heeling leeward, with the Main at half mast, nice and full. Thinking about how I'm going to explain to the crane operator what my boat was doing in the parking lot among all the laughing power boaters, fisherman, etc..., I cranked the steering wheel downwind as I slowly applied the brakes and watched the Catalina land nicely back on the trailer. Whew!!! My son applauded, we all laughed, and from now always check to make sure the sails are down and the sheets untied.
Honeymoon 1
On our first wedding aniversary my wife and I traveled back to Kentucky Lake, where we spent our honeymoon, to pick up our new(to us) O'Day 322. We spent the first moonlit night in a cove that we had stayed in a year earlier. As the evening progressed we noticed a family on the bank camping and playing in the water. After going to bed I found the new vee-birth to be a little too warm without a fan so I moved to the deck to sleep. The campers had proceeded to have way too much to drink and had proceed to get into a HUGE fight with threats of killing one another and yelling and screaming. Only thing I could think of was how to get off the anchor and move out under a full moon. Things finally settled down and by morning the campers were gone.. Great start to the new boat.
On our first wedding aniversary my wife and I traveled back to Kentucky Lake, where we spent our honeymoon, to pick up our new(to us) O'Day 322. We spent the first moonlit night in a cove that we had stayed in a year earlier. As the evening progressed we noticed a family on the bank camping and playing in the water. After going to bed I found the new vee-birth to be a little too warm without a fan so I moved to the deck to sleep. The campers had proceeded to have way too much to drink and had proceed to get into a HUGE fight with threats of killing one another and yelling and screaming. Only thing I could think of was how to get off the anchor and move out under a full moon. Things finally settled down and by morning the campers were gone.. Great start to the new boat.
Trial and error
Several years ago my friend bought a Hobie Holder 12 monohull dingy, to suppliment his 19'Boston Whaler SuperCat. We took the H12 with us to our favorite mountain lake. I was the first to sail it from the shallow bay near the campground. I pushed out to deep enough water to drop the rudder and centerboard and sailed about 100yds. from shore before making the first tack to get completely out of the bay. When I made the tack, the boom swung over and the boat turned. Then the boat kept turning and the boom swung over again. And the boat kept turning and the boom swung again... Something was effecting the rudder from moving properly and I kept going in circles while everybody on shore was laughing and yelling things like: "Don't you know how to sail?" and other derogatory remarks. I finally discovered that the tiller was not UNDER the mainsheet traveler line that goes across the transom. The traveler block would hold the tiller in tension when the boom swung and kept the rudder from moving in the proper direction. Duh, what a foolish mistake, the result of trying to get the boat rigged too fast so as to get out on the water. I was able to drift into shallow water in case I dropped the rudder while trying to lift the it off the gudgeons and put the tiller UNDER the traveler line the proper way. All said and done, I am never allowed to forget the first time I sailed the H12 and spun around in circles. Least ways, it gave everybody something to laugh about... And I'm always sure to insert the tiller under the traveler when installing the rudder.
Several years ago my friend bought a Hobie Holder 12 monohull dingy, to suppliment his 19'Boston Whaler SuperCat. We took the H12 with us to our favorite mountain lake. I was the first to sail it from the shallow bay near the campground. I pushed out to deep enough water to drop the rudder and centerboard and sailed about 100yds. from shore before making the first tack to get completely out of the bay. When I made the tack, the boom swung over and the boat turned. Then the boat kept turning and the boom swung over again. And the boat kept turning and the boom swung again... Something was effecting the rudder from moving properly and I kept going in circles while everybody on shore was laughing and yelling things like: "Don't you know how to sail?" and other derogatory remarks. I finally discovered that the tiller was not UNDER the mainsheet traveler line that goes across the transom. The traveler block would hold the tiller in tension when the boom swung and kept the rudder from moving in the proper direction. Duh, what a foolish mistake, the result of trying to get the boat rigged too fast so as to get out on the water. I was able to drift into shallow water in case I dropped the rudder while trying to lift the it off the gudgeons and put the tiller UNDER the traveler line the proper way. All said and done, I am never allowed to forget the first time I sailed the H12 and spun around in circles. Least ways, it gave everybody something to laugh about...
And I'm always sure to insert the tiller under the traveler when installing the rudder.Probabilities
Some years ago I was sailing with my buddy Ed on Smith Mountain Lake on a beautiful breezy summer day. He had only been out once or twice before on the lake and was telling me about a job he hoped to land. He is a brickmason, and had worked up a bid on a project that would bring in some much needed revenue and he was very hopeful of getting the contract. While he was talking, I looked over his shoulder to see the 'Virginia Dare' approaching us. She is a mock Mississippi River steamboat, paddlewheels and all, that is chartered by groups for excursions on the lake. I didn't think Ed had ever seen her before, so I said to him something like, "Ed, you have to be more realistic. Your likeliehood of getting that job is about the same as the probability of a Mississippi Riverboat going past us down the lake in the next two minutes. You have to come down to earth and get real." He looked at me sort of strangely, paused, and then said, "I guess you're right. Sometimes I just get my hopes up and don't face things realistically." Shortly thereafter the "chung-chung-chung" of the 'Virginia Dare' was audible and Ed turned around to see what was making the noise. He did a double take, then turned back to me with an exasperated look on his face, finally making some reference to the possibilities of canines in my ancestry. I don't know if he got the job, but we're still friends.
Some years ago I was sailing with my buddy Ed on Smith Mountain Lake on a beautiful breezy summer day. He had only been out once or twice before on the lake and was telling me about a job he hoped to land. He is a brickmason, and had worked up a bid on a project that would bring in some much needed revenue and he was very hopeful of getting the contract. While he was talking, I looked over his shoulder to see the 'Virginia Dare' approaching us. She is a mock Mississippi River steamboat, paddlewheels and all, that is chartered by groups for excursions on the lake. I didn't think Ed had ever seen her before, so I said to him something like, "Ed, you have to be more realistic. Your likeliehood of getting that job is about the same as the probability of a Mississippi Riverboat going past us down the lake in the next two minutes. You have to come down to earth and get real." He looked at me sort of strangely, paused, and then said, "I guess you're right. Sometimes I just get my hopes up and don't face things realistically." Shortly thereafter the "chung-chung-chung" of the 'Virginia Dare' was audible and Ed turned around to see what was making the noise. He did a double take, then turned back to me with an exasperated look on his face, finally making some reference to the possibilities of canines in my ancestry. I don't know if he got the job, but we're still friends.
What's the diff?
Q: What's the difference between a sea story and a fairy tale? A: A fairy tale begins, "Once upon a time..." but a sea story always starts out, "No shit, there I was..."
Q: What's the difference between a sea story and a fairy tale? A: A fairy tale begins, "Once upon a time..." but a sea story always starts out, "No shit, there I was..."
OBER'S ODYSSEY
My sailing partner, Nick Walker and I brought our Beneteau 381 back from Nanny Cay in the British Virgin Islands in ten days. We sailed 24 hours a day without benefit of our auto pilot, stopping only when we got to Marathon Florida. All levels of winds and seas. Also we were stopped and boarded by the US Dauntless and "checked" out thoroughly. We had to reef our sails several times because of high seas and winds...Was a trial of patience, diet, worry and excitement all rolled into one. Prevailing winds from east to west and stronger winds from the north made it a particular challenge to stay on course and maintain our speed. In the end it was an 1100 mile odyssey that neither of us would attempt again. D J Oberting
My sailing partner, Nick Walker and I brought our Beneteau 381 back from Nanny Cay in the British Virgin Islands in ten days. We sailed 24 hours a day without benefit of our auto pilot, stopping only when we got to Marathon Florida. All levels of winds and seas. Also we were stopped and boarded by the US Dauntless and "checked" out thoroughly. We had to reef our sails several times because of high seas and winds...Was a trial of patience, diet, worry and excitement all rolled into one. Prevailing winds from east to west and stronger winds from the north made it a particular challenge to stay on course and maintain our speed. In the end it was an 1100 mile odyssey that neither of us would attempt again. D J Oberting
rocky point dead ahead
Cutting to the chase, no shit there I was, on a broad reach on my brother in law's 22 oday, me at the helm, he at the sheets, bearing down on a rocky point in a boat we didn't want to gybe in the heavy winds on our quarter for fear of the damage to boom and sail. We tried a number of times to come around to windward, but with a shallow draft keel we lost the momentum and couldn't get upwind, even after a few trials. To make matter worse, the jib halyard had jammed and we could not bring it down. With about 40 feet to go before we would be on the rocks, we had no choice but to gybe. I started the gybe, but my brother in law had already jumped ship thinking that he could hold her off the rocks. Well, she gybed with a bang, and back out into the lake (we), I went. I had seen him go over so assumed that he would simply swim to shore. When I looked back however, he was nowhere to be seen. I was just starting to get into that panic mode trying to reason where he might have gone when all of a sudden I saw a hand come up over the motor cover, then another hand come over the transom. The skipper had refused to let go his ship, hanging on the the leg of the outboard, then working his way up and finally over. We still recall that day, everytime we go sailing, although he is now boatless, and comes with me.
Cutting to the chase, no shit there I was, on a broad reach on my brother in law's 22 oday, me at the helm, he at the sheets, bearing down on a rocky point in a boat we didn't want to gybe in the heavy winds on our quarter for fear of the damage to boom and sail. We tried a number of times to come around to windward, but with a shallow draft keel we lost the momentum and couldn't get upwind, even after a few trials. To make matter worse, the jib halyard had jammed and we could not bring it down. With about 40 feet to go before we would be on the rocks, we had no choice but to gybe. I started the gybe, but my brother in law had already jumped ship thinking that he could hold her off the rocks. Well, she gybed with a bang, and back out into the lake (we), I went. I had seen him go over so assumed that he would simply swim to shore. When I looked back however, he was nowhere to be seen. I was just starting to get into that panic mode trying to reason where he might have gone when all of a sudden I saw a hand come up over the motor cover, then another hand come over the transom. The skipper had refused to let go his ship, hanging on the the leg of the outboard, then working his way up and finally over. We still recall that day, everytime we go sailing, although he is now boatless, and comes with me.
One of the funniest sea stories ever...
actually took place at the dock, and was told here by one of our own members a year or so ago...I saved it: THE WILD MAGNET by Peter Roach of Atlanta I bought a 150 lb magnet (that is the lifting ability not the weight of the magnet). My slip is in about 45’ of water and over time I have dropped an assortment of wrenches, car keys, bolts, nuts, multiple pairs of sunglasses, irreplaceable parts to my roller furling, etc. I could just picture sending this magnet down on the end of a line and retrieving all sorts of treasures from the bottom. I even thought I might become the ‘man of the hour’ by helping my lesser-equipped dock mates retrieve their lost treasures. In essence this magnet was going to make me look really cool. The first lesson I learned with the magnet is one should never stand too close to a car with a powerful magnet in a thin plastic bag. According to modern physics, if a magnet is designed to lift 150 pounds, it takes 150 pounds of pulling power to get it off of the fender of a 1993 Mazda Miata. Also we discovered, Mazda paint jobs will not hold up against a sharp metal object being pressed against it with 150 pounds of pressure. One piece of advice, if you decide to test this theory, make sure the young attractive girl that owns the Miata (and you have been trying to get a date with her for months) is not in the proximity of the test area – oh well. The second lesson I learned is one should never place a very powerful magnet near an electronic component. Usually electronic components and magnets are natural enemies and the magnet is highest on the food chain. Like the lion and the zebra – the magnet wins. This includes the compass on your boat (actually it was one of my crew members that attached it to the rail around the compass). All of these problems seemed to be worth the effort in order for me to strut down the dock with my new purchase, tie it to a 50’ line, and pull untold treasures from the deep and impress my friends on the dock. As I calmly walked toward my slip, with my magnet sticking to my car keys thorough the thin plastic bag and my shorts, I beckoned to my dock mates to witness the miracle of reclaiming the abandoned and formerly lost treasures from the deep. Apparently, the confidence in my voice and the promise of untold treasures from the deep, caused a larger than normal crowd to gather on the dock. Without even stopping to unlock my boat, I retrieved an old anchor line from the dock box. While I straightened out the dock line, a friend of mine (powerboater – this distinction will become important in a minute) used all of his skills to tie the 150 pound magnet to the end of the dock line. As I slowly eased the magnet over the edge of the dock I learned my third magnet lesson. Floating docks have a great deal of metal below the waterline. Since the water is rather opaque, I had not noticed the brace 10’ below the waterline that ran between the ends of the finger piers to keep them from floating apart. Having no eyes and an unnatural attraction to large quantities of metal, my magnet did not suffer from the same handicap and firmly stuck to the brace. The fourth lesson I learned is to never let a power boater tie a knot on something that is going anywhere near the water. The fifth lesson (well ok I should not count this as a new lesson because I learned it with the Miata) is it TAKES 150 pounds of pulling to get the damn magnet off of a big piece of metal. YES – this was a new lesson because I was 10’ below the water, under my boat, holding my breath and pulling really hard. My sixth lesson was learned shortly after pulling the magnet free. One should never hold onto a heavy object underwater without some immediate means of support. Luckily I was able to reattach the magnet to the metal beam as I accelerated toward the bottom. Actually I think the magnet had more to do with this than I did. The seventh lesson I learned is one minute is a really long time to hold ones breath. The eighth lesson I learned is always look up when you are coming up under a boat. The ninth lesson I learned is you really run out of air fast when you are holding your head, seeing stars, and trying to find the surface. The tenth lesson I learned is never invite a large crowd of people to watch you try out any new piece of gear. The eleventh lesson I learned is never leave your cooler full of cold beer on the dock with ‘friends’ on a hot day while you dive underwatee. I don’t care what they say, one minute is way too short of time to declare someone dead and divide up their belongings. Now that I had the crowd warmed up, I decided to take my three-strand nylon anchor line and run it through the eyebolt of the magnet and back up to the surface. This way I would not have to risk a sudden trip to the bottom and I would not have to tie a knot underwater. Considering the day I was having this went amazingly well. It also gave those clowns on the dock a chance to get another round of drinks from my cooler. Thinking ahead, for the first time that day, I realized that the support member was attached to the dock by a vertical piece of metal. Not wanting that evil magnet to reattach itself several times to the support member while it was on the way to the surface, I climbed onto the deck of my boat. When I pulled on the line I learned my twelfth lesson of the day (second physics lesson). A three-strand nylon line has roughly the stretching ability of a rubber band and while water has a natural resistance, it is not enough to keep a magnet from hitting the bottom of your boat on the way to the surface. I also learned that a magnet can scratch gelcoat as fast as it will scratch a Miata. In the end I finally got the magnet correctly tied to the line and on the bottom of the lake. After about an hour, with no beer remaining in my cooler and with only a small audience, I finally gave up on recapturing any treasure. The only thing the magnet was able to find was a great deal of rust shavings. I know the bottom of the lake under my boat is littered with all type of hardware, tools, coins, etc so I was amazed when the magnet failed to bring up even one small item. Maybe the fish are calmly swimming around with sunglasses, or they have constructed their own secret city out of all of the spare parts. All was not lost with the magnet. My fellow boaters now play ‘hand me the wrench’ with the magnet. This is a game they devised using the magnet, a metal wrench and a dockbox with a thin top. They first take the magnet and put it on the underside of the lid to the dockbox. They then attach a wrench to the top of the dockbox and close it so everything looks normal. They then pretend to be working on their boat. When the unsuspecting target of this game walks by, they ask him to hand them the wrench. It works every time and it is amazing how hilarious my dock mates find it when a new person joins the game. They seem to get particular joy in this game when they can think of new things to stick to the dock box or when they can catch someone more than once by using different bait. They even had someone hide in the dockbox to pull the magnet away when his partner showed the victim that the wrench did not weigh 150 pounds. The magnet also seems to be good for playing ‘throw the metal object over the magnet’, ‘the worlds largest refrigerator magnet’ (WARNING – apparently the magnet will scratch a Kenmore refrigerator as easily as it will a 1993 Mazda Miata), ‘find the car keys in your wife’s purse’, and a whole lot of other games. Hey we might not be too smart but we are easily entertained. In the end – I guess the magnet was worth the price.
actually took place at the dock, and was told here by one of our own members a year or so ago...I saved it: THE WILD MAGNET by Peter Roach of Atlanta I bought a 150 lb magnet (that is the lifting ability not the weight of the magnet). My slip is in about 45’ of water and over time I have dropped an assortment of wrenches, car keys, bolts, nuts, multiple pairs of sunglasses, irreplaceable parts to my roller furling, etc. I could just picture sending this magnet down on the end of a line and retrieving all sorts of treasures from the bottom. I even thought I might become the ‘man of the hour’ by helping my lesser-equipped dock mates retrieve their lost treasures. In essence this magnet was going to make me look really cool. The first lesson I learned with the magnet is one should never stand too close to a car with a powerful magnet in a thin plastic bag. According to modern physics, if a magnet is designed to lift 150 pounds, it takes 150 pounds of pulling power to get it off of the fender of a 1993 Mazda Miata. Also we discovered, Mazda paint jobs will not hold up against a sharp metal object being pressed against it with 150 pounds of pressure. One piece of advice, if you decide to test this theory, make sure the young attractive girl that owns the Miata (and you have been trying to get a date with her for months) is not in the proximity of the test area – oh well. The second lesson I learned is one should never place a very powerful magnet near an electronic component. Usually electronic components and magnets are natural enemies and the magnet is highest on the food chain. Like the lion and the zebra – the magnet wins. This includes the compass on your boat (actually it was one of my crew members that attached it to the rail around the compass). All of these problems seemed to be worth the effort in order for me to strut down the dock with my new purchase, tie it to a 50’ line, and pull untold treasures from the deep and impress my friends on the dock. As I calmly walked toward my slip, with my magnet sticking to my car keys thorough the thin plastic bag and my shorts, I beckoned to my dock mates to witness the miracle of reclaiming the abandoned and formerly lost treasures from the deep. Apparently, the confidence in my voice and the promise of untold treasures from the deep, caused a larger than normal crowd to gather on the dock. Without even stopping to unlock my boat, I retrieved an old anchor line from the dock box. While I straightened out the dock line, a friend of mine (powerboater – this distinction will become important in a minute) used all of his skills to tie the 150 pound magnet to the end of the dock line. As I slowly eased the magnet over the edge of the dock I learned my third magnet lesson. Floating docks have a great deal of metal below the waterline. Since the water is rather opaque, I had not noticed the brace 10’ below the waterline that ran between the ends of the finger piers to keep them from floating apart. Having no eyes and an unnatural attraction to large quantities of metal, my magnet did not suffer from the same handicap and firmly stuck to the brace. The fourth lesson I learned is to never let a power boater tie a knot on something that is going anywhere near the water. The fifth lesson (well ok I should not count this as a new lesson because I learned it with the Miata) is it TAKES 150 pounds of pulling to get the damn magnet off of a big piece of metal. YES – this was a new lesson because I was 10’ below the water, under my boat, holding my breath and pulling really hard. My sixth lesson was learned shortly after pulling the magnet free. One should never hold onto a heavy object underwater without some immediate means of support. Luckily I was able to reattach the magnet to the metal beam as I accelerated toward the bottom. Actually I think the magnet had more to do with this than I did. The seventh lesson I learned is one minute is a really long time to hold ones breath. The eighth lesson I learned is always look up when you are coming up under a boat. The ninth lesson I learned is you really run out of air fast when you are holding your head, seeing stars, and trying to find the surface. The tenth lesson I learned is never invite a large crowd of people to watch you try out any new piece of gear. The eleventh lesson I learned is never leave your cooler full of cold beer on the dock with ‘friends’ on a hot day while you dive underwatee. I don’t care what they say, one minute is way too short of time to declare someone dead and divide up their belongings. Now that I had the crowd warmed up, I decided to take my three-strand nylon anchor line and run it through the eyebolt of the magnet and back up to the surface. This way I would not have to risk a sudden trip to the bottom and I would not have to tie a knot underwater. Considering the day I was having this went amazingly well. It also gave those clowns on the dock a chance to get another round of drinks from my cooler. Thinking ahead, for the first time that day, I realized that the support member was attached to the dock by a vertical piece of metal. Not wanting that evil magnet to reattach itself several times to the support member while it was on the way to the surface, I climbed onto the deck of my boat. When I pulled on the line I learned my twelfth lesson of the day (second physics lesson). A three-strand nylon line has roughly the stretching ability of a rubber band and while water has a natural resistance, it is not enough to keep a magnet from hitting the bottom of your boat on the way to the surface. I also learned that a magnet can scratch gelcoat as fast as it will scratch a Miata. In the end I finally got the magnet correctly tied to the line and on the bottom of the lake. After about an hour, with no beer remaining in my cooler and with only a small audience, I finally gave up on recapturing any treasure. The only thing the magnet was able to find was a great deal of rust shavings. I know the bottom of the lake under my boat is littered with all type of hardware, tools, coins, etc so I was amazed when the magnet failed to bring up even one small item. Maybe the fish are calmly swimming around with sunglasses, or they have constructed their own secret city out of all of the spare parts. All was not lost with the magnet. My fellow boaters now play ‘hand me the wrench’ with the magnet. This is a game they devised using the magnet, a metal wrench and a dockbox with a thin top. They first take the magnet and put it on the underside of the lid to the dockbox. They then attach a wrench to the top of the dockbox and close it so everything looks normal. They then pretend to be working on their boat. When the unsuspecting target of this game walks by, they ask him to hand them the wrench. It works every time and it is amazing how hilarious my dock mates find it when a new person joins the game. They seem to get particular joy in this game when they can think of new things to stick to the dock box or when they can catch someone more than once by using different bait. They even had someone hide in the dockbox to pull the magnet away when his partner showed the victim that the wrench did not weigh 150 pounds. The magnet also seems to be good for playing ‘throw the metal object over the magnet’, ‘the worlds largest refrigerator magnet’ (WARNING – apparently the magnet will scratch a Kenmore refrigerator as easily as it will a 1993 Mazda Miata), ‘find the car keys in your wife’s purse’, and a whole lot of other games. Hey we might not be too smart but we are easily entertained. In the end – I guess the magnet was worth the price.
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