The 19th began like a normal Maine day. Foggy. Can’t really complain because this is the first really foggy day that we have had on our cruise.
So we are leaving Mackerel Harbor on the east side of Casco Passage and this is an “instruments only” kind of day. No Kodak Moments at all. No wind either.
Motoring out to the main channel so we can head toward Northeast Harbor, we encounter a swath of lobster pots that are dense enough to walk to shore upon. So with zero visibility (well not quite, I could still see the bow) I was dodging pots, trying to stay on course, and checking the radar for targets.
Did I mention that the diabolical lobster men (and women) up here like to attach a “toggle” to their traps? This toggle is another float that is connected to the main float by a line that can be as long as 30 feet. This line floats below the surface where it is visible only to sailboat keels, props, and rudders. You must not drive between the main float and the toggle. If you do, then the connecting line will wrap around your keel if you are lucky. If you are unlucky, the line will slip around the keel and wind up around your prop shaft in a New York second. Make that a half-second. Nearly instantaneous if you are turning above 2000 rpm.
Now experienced Maine sailors, like I thought I was, understand how this game works. You watch for two floats- one colored with the unique pattern of the diabolical lobsterman, and the other with either a similar, complementary, or just plain white color. You look for the prevailing wind and/or current to determine the safer side to pass, and you look to see if the downwind/down-current float is laying more horizontal than the upwind/up-current one. That is the clue that these two floats are connected. If they are both semi-vertical, then they are not likely connected but independent which could suggest that you could pass between them.
So you’re thinking, why not just play it safe and always pass down-wind/down-current? That is because there are so friggin’ many of them it is hard to tell who may be connected to who. The stakes get raised a bit when the tide is high or the current is running fast because then the up-current toggle float gets pulled under the water and you can’t even see it.
Did I mention that these diabolical lobstermen like to put these toggle-float systems in all the channels as well as everywhere else?
So to continue….. I’m motoring along watching all the floats and steering a zig-zag course that looks like I am drunk.
Then it happens.
Oh crap. I snag a connecting line and it winds up around my prop shaft pulling the float toward my side at 50mph. You simply can’t get off the throttle fast enough. So after getting to neutral I do a 180 degree turn and idle in reverse hoping that the line will now un-wrap.
It doesn’t.
In fact the line is now wound so tight that the prop is locked and I can’t get forward rpm over 1000. My forward speed has dropped to 1.2 kts and thoughts of a very cold swim are entering my mind.
Now I see the problem. Not only did I pick up a connecting line between a toggle and main buoy, I actually picked up a connecting line in the middle of a string of pots.
Well, after 15 agonizing minutes of forward-reverse-forward-reverse, I am free. Sort of, that is. I am no longer connected to the infernal lobster pots, but I have significant vibration and I know that I have line wrapped around my shaft. More forward-reverse in attempt to loosen the load. It seems to work, the vibration is now much less. Not sure if it is gone completely.
I continue to Northeast Harbor. We spend two days there. I keep thinking about the prop, but I really don’t want to go into the cold Maine water. So I am in denial hoping that all of the line is gone and the vibration I feel is “normal”.
We leave NEH, again in the dead of fog, and motor to Campbell Island on the southwest side of Eggemoggin Reach. I decide I must go in the water. I have to be sure the prop is clear or clear it. As I feared, there was a wad of line around the prop and hub. It effectively jammed the prop so that the blades would not feather or go into reverse.
We rigged a line from one side of the stern to the other so that I could pull myself down to the prop. Using my hook knife I cut and ripped at the line taking pieces out until it was all gone.
This is the second time that I have used this hook knife to free us from lines that have snagged us. I can’t say enough good things about this knife.
Below is the offending line and the “save my bacon” hook knife.
So we are leaving Mackerel Harbor on the east side of Casco Passage and this is an “instruments only” kind of day. No Kodak Moments at all. No wind either.
Motoring out to the main channel so we can head toward Northeast Harbor, we encounter a swath of lobster pots that are dense enough to walk to shore upon. So with zero visibility (well not quite, I could still see the bow) I was dodging pots, trying to stay on course, and checking the radar for targets.
Did I mention that the diabolical lobster men (and women) up here like to attach a “toggle” to their traps? This toggle is another float that is connected to the main float by a line that can be as long as 30 feet. This line floats below the surface where it is visible only to sailboat keels, props, and rudders. You must not drive between the main float and the toggle. If you do, then the connecting line will wrap around your keel if you are lucky. If you are unlucky, the line will slip around the keel and wind up around your prop shaft in a New York second. Make that a half-second. Nearly instantaneous if you are turning above 2000 rpm.
Now experienced Maine sailors, like I thought I was, understand how this game works. You watch for two floats- one colored with the unique pattern of the diabolical lobsterman, and the other with either a similar, complementary, or just plain white color. You look for the prevailing wind and/or current to determine the safer side to pass, and you look to see if the downwind/down-current float is laying more horizontal than the upwind/up-current one. That is the clue that these two floats are connected. If they are both semi-vertical, then they are not likely connected but independent which could suggest that you could pass between them.
So you’re thinking, why not just play it safe and always pass down-wind/down-current? That is because there are so friggin’ many of them it is hard to tell who may be connected to who. The stakes get raised a bit when the tide is high or the current is running fast because then the up-current toggle float gets pulled under the water and you can’t even see it.
Did I mention that these diabolical lobstermen like to put these toggle-float systems in all the channels as well as everywhere else?
So to continue….. I’m motoring along watching all the floats and steering a zig-zag course that looks like I am drunk.
Then it happens.
Oh crap. I snag a connecting line and it winds up around my prop shaft pulling the float toward my side at 50mph. You simply can’t get off the throttle fast enough. So after getting to neutral I do a 180 degree turn and idle in reverse hoping that the line will now un-wrap.
It doesn’t.
In fact the line is now wound so tight that the prop is locked and I can’t get forward rpm over 1000. My forward speed has dropped to 1.2 kts and thoughts of a very cold swim are entering my mind.
Now I see the problem. Not only did I pick up a connecting line between a toggle and main buoy, I actually picked up a connecting line in the middle of a string of pots.
Well, after 15 agonizing minutes of forward-reverse-forward-reverse, I am free. Sort of, that is. I am no longer connected to the infernal lobster pots, but I have significant vibration and I know that I have line wrapped around my shaft. More forward-reverse in attempt to loosen the load. It seems to work, the vibration is now much less. Not sure if it is gone completely.
I continue to Northeast Harbor. We spend two days there. I keep thinking about the prop, but I really don’t want to go into the cold Maine water. So I am in denial hoping that all of the line is gone and the vibration I feel is “normal”.
We leave NEH, again in the dead of fog, and motor to Campbell Island on the southwest side of Eggemoggin Reach. I decide I must go in the water. I have to be sure the prop is clear or clear it. As I feared, there was a wad of line around the prop and hub. It effectively jammed the prop so that the blades would not feather or go into reverse.
We rigged a line from one side of the stern to the other so that I could pull myself down to the prop. Using my hook knife I cut and ripped at the line taking pieces out until it was all gone.
This is the second time that I have used this hook knife to free us from lines that have snagged us. I can’t say enough good things about this knife.
Below is the offending line and the “save my bacon” hook knife.
