Now that the Great Lakes sailing season is over and the boat has been put to bed, I've had to time to reflect on all the stupid things I've done this year and how I have or will correct my ways. I thought I'd share some of them with you for a good laugh.
First up was the day I finally launched the boat for the first time. We set the boat in the water and the marina manager told me to start the engine and let it run for a bit before they dropped the straps. It roared to life just as it had when I tested it in the stands to make sure everything worked before the launch. Sure enough, after 10 minutes the engine died. The PO told me he had changed the engine filters the prior year before putting it in storage for the winter. I took the secondary filter housing off and noticed the o-ring looked a lot thinner than the o-ring in the box of spares he had given me. I changed that and the filter and tried to bleed the lines to the engine but, despite me pumping the lever on the fuel pump what seemed like a hundred times, I couldn't get any fuel to come out of the loosened connections. Luckily, one of the crane operators knew the local diesel engine expert and gave him a call. When he showed up, he noticed right away that I was missing a copper washer on a fitting. I was given a box of them in various sizes by the PO and he found the correct one and replaced it. Then he showed me the decompression levers for the cylinders and told me to crank the engine for a few seconds with the stop cable pulled. Sure enough, fuel came squirting out. We bled the entire system that way and started the engine again. It kept running and after that I felt much more comfortable for the journey to my new slip about 10 miles down the shoreline.
It was a beautiful sunny day, about 80 degrees with only a slight breeze on Lake Ontario as I pulled out of Oswego harbor for the trip to my new slip. I was going to motor the entire way since I hadn't bent on any sails yet. I felt confident all was well with the engine and turned west about 1/2 mile out. I had my charts, binoculars, hand-held VHF, and my hand-held gps, set a course to keep me in over 100 feet of water and pushed the boat up to about 5-1/2 knots. The boat was handling well and I relaxed a bit with my foot on the wheel and keeping an eye out for the fishing charters that occasionally passed by. I knew the landmarks since I've lived and recreated on this lake shore for over 40 years so figured I had it all planned out. About the time I was expecting my turn to shore, nothing looked familiar. I consulted the chart in the area around the inlet to the bay but nothing matched up. Then I looked at the gps (which I didn't think I'd need) and plotted the coordinates. Turned out that I was so busy looking at the sights around me and not paying attention to my position that I was almost 7 miles past the inlet. I turned around and started watching the shore a little closer and made it in to the marina and my slip. No one was around in the marina to see my landing so, of course, I turned in and came to a complete stop about 8" from the finger pier and right in position to step off the boat and cleat all 4 dock lines at a leisurely pace. I said to myself as I stood up from the final line, "I'll never do that again."
Stupid Trick #2: A few days later, I had a neighbor (an 86 year young old-timer) that helped me get the mainsail installed. I hadn't bothered with the jib yet because I was waiting for the PO to find some time to answer a couple questions on the mid-boom traveler and while he was at it could show me any gotchas getting the jib in the furler foil. A few days later, I had the bright idea that I was going to go out in the middle of the bay and hoist the mainsail and see how the boat handled with that alone. It was in the middle of the week so all the working stiffs were working and not sitting in the marina gawking at the new guy or zipping around the bay on their pontoon boats. We had a slight northerly breeze blowing into the bay from Lake Ontario. I motored out into the middle of the bay and turned directly into the wind. I put the transmission in neutral, jumped up onto the cabin top at the mast, pulled off the sail ties and started hoisting the main. About half way up, I put a couple wraps on the winch and started grinding. I didn't get too far with shaking out the sail and tailing the winch before I got an override. I quickly unwound the halyard and dropped the main a little to try again. Re-wrapped the halyard on the winch and cranked away. All well and good except, while I was fiddling with the winch, I hadn't realized or noticed that I had enough freeboard for the wind to catch and pivot the bow 45 degrees off the wind. By the time I got the mainsail about 3/4 of the way up, the sail had filled and the boom started pushing me closer to the edge of the cabin top and boat to start heeling. Ooops! Dropped the sail, tied it loosely with a couple sail ties and jumped back into the cockpit. I put it gear, turned it south and went back down the bay to give it another try. I did this 3 times, each time the wind caught the bow and swung the boat enough for the boom to push me back nearer the edge of cabin before I could get the sail all the way up. At least I didn't get an override on the winch on the follow-up tries. By then I was frustrated and said the h*ell with it and motored back to the marina. In the meantime, my 86yo neighbor had showed up for his daily sail and had watched my smart moves. When I got tied up in my slip, he came over and I mentioned my "problems" getting the sail up. At this point, he said, "why didn't you turn the autopilot on to keep your heading as you cranked the sail up?"
FOREHEAD SLAP.
Stupid Trick #3: I'd gotten pretty comfortable getting the sail up in the bay before I ventured out on to Lake Ontario. I figured why waste time in the bay and just go out on the lake and put the mailsail up there. I motored out onto the lake for about 1/4 mile in 5-8 knots of wind coming out of the north. Of course, this means the wind had the entire fetch across to Canada to help get those waves kicked up to about 3 feet in height. I was comfortable in the cockpit and the boat was handling the waves fine. What I didn't realize was the difference in my ability to stand up in the cockpit versus at the mast to raise the sail. By the time I got near the mast, I was having a hard time just standing and holding the boom; nevermind pulling off the sail ties and then hoisting the sail. At least I was smart enough to have my pfd on and the portable VHF clipped to the pfd strap. It was about this time that the "rogue" wave, you know -- the one that's a little bigger and not the same period as the ones around it, shows up and I could feel myself beginning to be thrown off the deck. I wrapped my arm around the boom and hung on until I felt stable enough to get back to the cockpit. It was about this time I decided to call it a day and plan to hoist the sail in the bay before venturing out on a windy lake again. NOTE TO SELF: Buy harnesses and jacklines before doing that again.
That's just a few of my first year's adventures. I could go on but I think you get the gist. At least I won't make the same mistakes again and it frees me up to do other stupid antics next season. Hope you got a chuckle. I still do thinking back on it.
In the meantime, I wish all of you Happy Holidays!
P.S. Season 2 of Gilligan's Adventures is scheduled to begin in about 5 months.
First up was the day I finally launched the boat for the first time. We set the boat in the water and the marina manager told me to start the engine and let it run for a bit before they dropped the straps. It roared to life just as it had when I tested it in the stands to make sure everything worked before the launch. Sure enough, after 10 minutes the engine died. The PO told me he had changed the engine filters the prior year before putting it in storage for the winter. I took the secondary filter housing off and noticed the o-ring looked a lot thinner than the o-ring in the box of spares he had given me. I changed that and the filter and tried to bleed the lines to the engine but, despite me pumping the lever on the fuel pump what seemed like a hundred times, I couldn't get any fuel to come out of the loosened connections. Luckily, one of the crane operators knew the local diesel engine expert and gave him a call. When he showed up, he noticed right away that I was missing a copper washer on a fitting. I was given a box of them in various sizes by the PO and he found the correct one and replaced it. Then he showed me the decompression levers for the cylinders and told me to crank the engine for a few seconds with the stop cable pulled. Sure enough, fuel came squirting out. We bled the entire system that way and started the engine again. It kept running and after that I felt much more comfortable for the journey to my new slip about 10 miles down the shoreline.
It was a beautiful sunny day, about 80 degrees with only a slight breeze on Lake Ontario as I pulled out of Oswego harbor for the trip to my new slip. I was going to motor the entire way since I hadn't bent on any sails yet. I felt confident all was well with the engine and turned west about 1/2 mile out. I had my charts, binoculars, hand-held VHF, and my hand-held gps, set a course to keep me in over 100 feet of water and pushed the boat up to about 5-1/2 knots. The boat was handling well and I relaxed a bit with my foot on the wheel and keeping an eye out for the fishing charters that occasionally passed by. I knew the landmarks since I've lived and recreated on this lake shore for over 40 years so figured I had it all planned out. About the time I was expecting my turn to shore, nothing looked familiar. I consulted the chart in the area around the inlet to the bay but nothing matched up. Then I looked at the gps (which I didn't think I'd need) and plotted the coordinates. Turned out that I was so busy looking at the sights around me and not paying attention to my position that I was almost 7 miles past the inlet. I turned around and started watching the shore a little closer and made it in to the marina and my slip. No one was around in the marina to see my landing so, of course, I turned in and came to a complete stop about 8" from the finger pier and right in position to step off the boat and cleat all 4 dock lines at a leisurely pace. I said to myself as I stood up from the final line, "I'll never do that again."
Stupid Trick #2: A few days later, I had a neighbor (an 86 year young old-timer) that helped me get the mainsail installed. I hadn't bothered with the jib yet because I was waiting for the PO to find some time to answer a couple questions on the mid-boom traveler and while he was at it could show me any gotchas getting the jib in the furler foil. A few days later, I had the bright idea that I was going to go out in the middle of the bay and hoist the mainsail and see how the boat handled with that alone. It was in the middle of the week so all the working stiffs were working and not sitting in the marina gawking at the new guy or zipping around the bay on their pontoon boats. We had a slight northerly breeze blowing into the bay from Lake Ontario. I motored out into the middle of the bay and turned directly into the wind. I put the transmission in neutral, jumped up onto the cabin top at the mast, pulled off the sail ties and started hoisting the main. About half way up, I put a couple wraps on the winch and started grinding. I didn't get too far with shaking out the sail and tailing the winch before I got an override. I quickly unwound the halyard and dropped the main a little to try again. Re-wrapped the halyard on the winch and cranked away. All well and good except, while I was fiddling with the winch, I hadn't realized or noticed that I had enough freeboard for the wind to catch and pivot the bow 45 degrees off the wind. By the time I got the mainsail about 3/4 of the way up, the sail had filled and the boom started pushing me closer to the edge of the cabin top and boat to start heeling. Ooops! Dropped the sail, tied it loosely with a couple sail ties and jumped back into the cockpit. I put it gear, turned it south and went back down the bay to give it another try. I did this 3 times, each time the wind caught the bow and swung the boat enough for the boom to push me back nearer the edge of cabin before I could get the sail all the way up. At least I didn't get an override on the winch on the follow-up tries. By then I was frustrated and said the h*ell with it and motored back to the marina. In the meantime, my 86yo neighbor had showed up for his daily sail and had watched my smart moves. When I got tied up in my slip, he came over and I mentioned my "problems" getting the sail up. At this point, he said, "why didn't you turn the autopilot on to keep your heading as you cranked the sail up?"
FOREHEAD SLAP.Stupid Trick #3: I'd gotten pretty comfortable getting the sail up in the bay before I ventured out on to Lake Ontario. I figured why waste time in the bay and just go out on the lake and put the mailsail up there. I motored out onto the lake for about 1/4 mile in 5-8 knots of wind coming out of the north. Of course, this means the wind had the entire fetch across to Canada to help get those waves kicked up to about 3 feet in height. I was comfortable in the cockpit and the boat was handling the waves fine. What I didn't realize was the difference in my ability to stand up in the cockpit versus at the mast to raise the sail. By the time I got near the mast, I was having a hard time just standing and holding the boom; nevermind pulling off the sail ties and then hoisting the sail. At least I was smart enough to have my pfd on and the portable VHF clipped to the pfd strap. It was about this time that the "rogue" wave, you know -- the one that's a little bigger and not the same period as the ones around it, shows up and I could feel myself beginning to be thrown off the deck. I wrapped my arm around the boom and hung on until I felt stable enough to get back to the cockpit. It was about this time I decided to call it a day and plan to hoist the sail in the bay before venturing out on a windy lake again.
NOTE TO SELF: Buy harnesses and jacklines before doing that again.That's just a few of my first year's adventures. I could go on but I think you get the gist. At least I won't make the same mistakes again and it frees me up to do other stupid antics next season. Hope you got a chuckle. I still do thinking back on it.
In the meantime, I wish all of you Happy Holidays!
P.S. Season 2 of Gilligan's Adventures is scheduled to begin in about 5 months.
