SAFETY AFLOAT "Projects – A Study in Safety"
SAFETY AFLOAT "A Case Study"
SAFETY AFLOAT "Fatique and Short Cruises"
SAFETY AFLOAT "Fueling Anchoring & Rigging"
SAFETY AFLOAT "Early Lessons"
SAFETY AFLOAT "A Second Look"
SAFETY AFLOAT "Staying Attached to the Boat"
SAFETY AFLOAT "Propane Systems
SAFETY AFLOAT "Holey Hull, Boatman, the vessel is sinking"
SAFETY AFLOAT "Holey Hull, Boatman, the vessel is sinking Part II"
SAFETY AFLOAT Make it Easy on the Crew when Docking
SAFETY AFLOAT Recovering the Crew Overboard
SAFETY AFLOAT First Aid
SAFETY AFLOAT When a skipper goes Missing
Projects – A
Study in Safety
By Chris Edmonson
In the last two years I
bought another sailboat. The purchase
was not about finding a boat in perfect condition where everything worked
already. What I wanted was a project. This project needed some elements of
difficulty that I had not yet tackled in the upkeep of a boat but it could not
be a ground up build or I would never complete it.
Most of the boats I saw
were closer to the latter category of complexity than they were to a completed
boat. Finally a project boat of the
right sort passed in front of me. At
least things seemed to come together in the right proportions of grief and
promise. I had, sometime before, come
across a project boat that had the important ingredient of coming with a
trailer. I contemplated the bare hull
for a while as my future project but the list of parts and sub-projects was so
long that I quickly decided that the acquisition of the trailer was the
important thing. I kept looking for a
boat to put on the trailer. In the
meantime I did a little work on the hull and eventually found someone wanting to
take the hull without the trailer.
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Then there on EBay was a
boat pictured afloat in San Diego bay and the phone number was for someone in
Tucson. I watched the ad for a couple
of days and nothing happened. I wrote
an e-mail saying that if no sale occurred that I might be interested but would
first want to see the boat in person. Sure enough the boat, a
1969 Columbia 26 Mk II, did not sell and I got a return e-mail from the owner,
Tom. The next thing I knew I had made
arrangements to meet Tom in San Diego and visit the boat.
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The boat’s story was that
Tom was not a sailor. He had used the
boat for a few years as a place to stay in San Diego and liked staying on the Laurel
street mooring out in the bay. Almost nothing
worked as I made the rounds inspecting every part of the boat. The rigging was tired; there was water in
the bilge and the keel bolt showed as a rusty mess, the electrical system was
hopelessly corroded; woodwork and topsides worn and deteriorated; the bottom
paint chipped and the bottom foul; in other words, perfect.
Lots of projects here but
the basic boat seemed intact and in 1969 they were not building a very
Tupperware sort of craft.
We came to an agreement on
price quickly because he did not want to have to go through the inspection
process to renew his mooring certificate that was currently over due. This annual necessity meant this
increasingly dysfunctional yacht would eventually be declared unfit junk and no
longer allowed access to the mooring.
This is a part of the rules that keeps derelict boats out of San Diego
anchorages although it can take years to force a boat off the bay.
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To condense the story some
let’s just say that after a few months I got the boat on a trailer and towed it
home. There had been a few weeks when I
still had the old hull on the trailer and had not found anyone who might want
that project. It caused me some moments
of doubt but that story is for another time.
Back in Tucson with my new
old boat I started making lists of prioritized sub-elements of what needed to
be done. On the surface of things I
wanted to start on the cosmetic features right away but realized that the
underlying mechanical/safety challenges had to have my immediate focus. I had temporarily dealt with the foul bottom
while still in San Diego so I started with the standing rigging and tracing the
electrical system. The navigation
lights were the standard old 10 watt bulb type that had burned through the
plastic lenses. The single battery sat
in an unsecured place under the settee.
The electrical panel was corroded and the fuse holders were broken and
non-functioning. The running rigging was
frayed and well past being on its last sail. The standing rigging was just old, and with bronze fittings, not
to be trusted. The sails, if one could
truly call them that, were a dingy, ill fitting set of rags. Miraculously the VHF worked but the antenna,
low on the stern, would not have much range.
The life lines were okay but their bases were leaky and needed to be
re-bedded. The list was so long that by
the time I got to the cosmetics portion of the list I was wondering if I would
ever get through the maze of work to be done to get that far.
While I organized the
projects in terms of materials needed and the absolute necessity of completion
before launching I also organized them so that I would mix them with visible
signs of progress between projects that would not show much progress. This would help keep the motivation alive in
continuing to do the work. It would be
slow going and I knew it from the start.
Things like badly
deteriorated tiller showed early promise as items that could be restored. In fact, most of the wood working issues
could be interspersed with heavy projects.
I sought help on the rebuilding of the forward hatch cover because it
wasn’t just a matter of sanding, oiling and varnishing. John Eichelberger helped me overcome the wood
butcher in me long enough to take the old teak frame apart and make it as good
as new.
Some of the projects were
where combinations of the list came together.
The stove, for instance, posed a combined set of problems. When I investigated the old pressure alcohol
stove it was sure to burn the boat down to the waterline. I took the old stove out of the boat and set
it up on a work bench that I had pulled out of the shop. When I lit it flames came from everywhere. Since there was a lot of unused space under
and behind the counter where the stove fit in it looked like a good place for
the main casing of the shortwave (SSB) radio to go. I needed a new propane stove to go where the leaky old stove had
been and it all meant that new plumbing and electrical installations were
required. The cut out for the new stove
was smaller than for the old stove so the dominoes began to mount. That is, two simple changes started to make
for several other related changes.
It is the nature of small
boats that everything is interconnected.
You cannot change one thing without affecting at least one other
thing. The safety quotient is exceeded
when half the boat is on the ground outside the boat and you forget what project
you started with. What was the
goal? The old saw about draining the
swamp being hard to remember when you are up to your rear in alligators comes
to mind.
One of the potentially
most difficult issues I bumped into came about when I looked closely at the
keel bolts and knew that my initial impression had been correct but only
partially understood. That is, the
bolts were corroded and would have to be replaced but I had not counted on one
of them breaking off when I tried to get it out. From the internet I had gotten construction drawings of the keel
fastening system used on this boat and had a pretty good idea how it was put
together. When I took the bolts out I
was not totally surprised that salt water came bubbling to the top of the bolt
hole. It took several weeks of wicking
the water out and coming to ways to fix this problem that made sense. I had vacillated between radical solutions
like separating the hull away from the keel to trying to drill out the old bolt
or similar solutions. That’s when Rex
Weedon saved me from my indecision. We had
been talking around the problem for a few months whenever we got together I
would explain my latest theory. Then Rex came over and we sawed out a hole
around the intransigent stud and with a little penetrating oil out it came.
This solution really lit a
fire under me to complete the projects and get the boat in the water. I was much more certain of the good outcome
I envisioned when I bought the boat.
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It may be that you have
inspected your rigging recently and you are satisfied that nothing will unravel
anytime soon. It the case of this boat
it was obvious that the rigging (both running and standing) was shot. The, “let’s replace the whole mess,” thought
was the only way out. The rigger’s shop
I know in San Diego is very reasonable but added into the overall time line of
getting the boat done. That’s the other
issue you get into. You want to go
sailing NOW but the list says it will be a while. There is no room for impatience.
Getting to the finish line is about taking whatever spins of the clock
it takes to get to the end of the check list.
So, be ready, be safe and
take your time to get there. Until next
time… have a great month with your already ready boat!
A Case Study
By Chris Edmonson
Twelve foot seas and 25 knot plus winds… are we there yet? Are we having fun yet?
There was a boat left on the Baja side of the Sea of Cortez in a small three boat cove during the November cruise and it needed to be retrieved. The first attempted crossing back to San Carlos had resulted in the sail tearing and becoming useless while the motor ceased functioning. The original crew had rounded up a fresh motor and mains’l to carry from San Carlos back to the boat. Sailors “Y” and “Z” (original crew) had asked assistance from other club members “A” and “B” to sail back across and deliver them to their boat. In turn A and B had recruited “C” to be a spare crew to make the watches a little easier. All had arrived in San Carlos ready for some new adventure.
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When you looked skyward you saw the Mare’s Tail clouds that tend to mean you are in for a blow. Even so the next day the happy campers went to acquire some sea legs and day sailed out about two miles from the Bahia in rough conditions to take a vote on going or not on that day. The consensus reached was that it would be better to wait and see what tomorrow would bring. Getting a good weather report was going to be helpful in assessing the next day’s decision process so the wait was put to good use. There had been a Catalina 34 observed blasting its way back into the Bahia from the Northwest with a handkerchief for a headsail. That was a very convincing argument for waiting as well.
The next morning the sailors gathered for a weather check. It was found that the prediction was for the seas to be abating and the winds lessening later in the day. So, with conditions looking to be improving and a reportedly two day window of opportunity approaching it was decided that the group should go. The next issue was – exactly when would be the best time to start.
“Let’s see here, four knots average speed, 83 nautical miles and two hour watches… uh, 10:00 sounds about right.”
At the appointed time, having stowed victuals (5 cases of beer, a bottle of Bailey’s and so forth), of the group sailed. While the conditions were pretty much the same as the previous day, you can have a lot of confidence if you believe that the current uncomfortable conditions are temporary. In fact, the crew felt good about going out in anticipation of better seas ahead. All the while you are enduring a very bumpy ride you can be telling yourself it’s the right thing to do. Keep in mind, too, that the conditions that led to the first boat being stranded on the opposite shore was in similar conditions and this felt like an act of completion.
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About four or five miles out sailor Z was the first to fall victim to mal’d’mer and was to spend the rest of the journey on the cabin sole trying to maintain a state of rest. The wind was freshening continuously during the day and the seas built from the eight footers near shore to ten to twelve feet rolling under the keel before nightfall. These waves were all piss and vinegar with many foaming tops and spraying water and salt everywhere. The wind often clocked sustained speeds of 26 to 28 knots and often the lower 22 to 25 knot winds saw gusts of 30 knots on the instruments. It was sailor B who next had a short bout of cookie tossing and went below to self medicate and take a short nap. The nap seemed to help because this sailor came back on deck for a watch a short time later to soldier on.
Please insert here that buckets of cold water were dousing the occupants of the cockpit on watch at semi-regular intervals. By the time the boat was 20 miles off shore everyone was cold and very wet – there is a reason for the expression “dampened spirits” in the vocabulary and it would apply to this group in varying degrees. The only “dry” one was sailor Z on the cabin floor, although, to be sure, everyone coming below dripped a little water on him. Despite this sense of spirit everyone had their game face on and was willingly continuing with the trip.
During the last of the day the GPS unit being used was getting fluky. Another unit was produced and since it was new, no one knew its operation without the instruction book. Sailor A tried reading it from the safety of the cabin but soon started sensing a queasiness settling in and handed the booklet to sailor C in the cockpit to see what could be learned. Sailor C wearing glasses now so full of salt as to be unable to see anything as distinct as letters or words gave up after about five minutes. From the cabin sole sailor Z said he had another GPS and somehow managed to produce it before returning to a coma-like state. The seas were very large and the wind screaming.
As sundown approached around 17:30 there was a temporary rumor that seized on the earlier forecast that said that perhaps conditions would ease after the sun went down. It was soon proven false and never discussed again.
The temperature fell with the sun and everyone was colder and wetter for it. After a short rest it was time for sailor C to take a watch again and he decided to put on his full foul weather suit before going up. This was complicated because he had to crawl over sailor Z to get to the gear he needed and then spend several minutes in the dark of the v-berth first finding his flashlight and then his gear. By the time he had gathered everything together he felt the urge to respond to the confusion of his inner ear and he barely made it to the companionway before asking sailor B to move her feet so that he could make a deposit on the cockpit floor. Once he took care of business sailor C washed the floor and donned his outfit to go out on his watch. While not fully functional for about a half an hour he at least felt drier.
Sailor Y, happy fellow that he has the good fortune to be, never lost his lunch but from time to time was seen staring hard at the horizon.
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There had been a moon for much of the night but when it left the scene around 02:00 the night was very dark. There was no more horizon and the distinction between sea and sky disappeared. For the entire trip the boat’s speed had maintained a steady 5.5 to 6.3 knots on the meter while the GPS said terrifying things about the Velocity Made Good (VMG). As most sailors know, in stormy conditions you want to keep the boat speed in a controllable range and there are several methods to accomplish this. As it was the boat was under single reefed main alone and other than trailing a drogue not much more could be done under the circumstances. The boat raced along as if it had a single digit PHRF rating while the watch strained to see if there was anything out there to be run into.
The ETA was turned to hogwash shortly after departure but this became very clear in the dark as the boat arrived just off the Baja shore a little after 02:30. There is an island to contend with there and the crew discussed the options for waiting off shore until sun rise. Several theories were discussed on which tacks and approaches to take with a clear discussion of the hazards of each possibility. A decision was made and the watch changed to execute the decision. Back out to sea the boat went.
By now the boat was easier in motion but only slightly. The wind was dropping to around 20 knots and the seas were a little less in the lee of the Baja peninsula. That is not to say that it seemed that way but rather to say the crew was more used to it. The “On” watch was contemplating what a fast forward button would be worth at this point.
The math was rehashed a few times to be certain that the earliest moment to tack back was achieved in minds numbed by the journey. When the moment arrived the boat was turned and the cove was perfectly in line awaiting the crew with its reefs visible a short time later. The crew had seen some degree of tired, cold, wet, queasy, hungry and, perhaps, anxiety but was in good spirits as the boat came to rest against its anchor rode at around 06:00.
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Now, you may take this tale as one of things gone wrong. That is, decisions made and regretted but that would not be the case. Certainly there were circumstances encountered here that were somewhat difficult to deal with, but overall the boat arrived safely with good decisions on operating along the way. The sick crewmen dealt with their issues and didn’t require others to come to their aid in any extraordinary or continuous way. The boat was controlled to the edge of good sense and arrived in good condition at the end of the sail.
While one may find fault with the decision to leave at the time they did, it would not be the case that all of the crew would not have done the same thing again. Consider the math; at the estimated 4 knots to cover the 83 miles it would have put the boat at the anchorage around sun up (20.75 hours) with lots of time to get organized and set up the boats for the return. The average speed turned out to be closer to 5.5 knots and that put the boat there in the darkest hours. It rarely works out that you will have the fastest time and more often happens that you travel at slower than your estimate… it just didn’t happen that way this time. More over, the crew was to be split into the two boats for the return trip so it was better for conditions to be eased for the return.
The food issue was bypassed for the most part because no one (except sailor A) was really looking for anything to eat. Had the voyage been longer perhaps that might have changed. In any case, there was an ample supply of power bars, fruit and such to be without concern for any potential food shortage.
Having set a watch schedule at the outset it was quickly confused by having a crewman down almost immediately. The way this worked out was fine for a couple of reasons. Most of the time there were at least two people in the cockpit and up to three resting below. This meant that even if one active crew was less than great another was available to act. To be sure there were some exciting moments but everyone (with one exception) was ready to act if only for short periods on watch. It would be conjectured that even the downed crewman would have acted for self preservation had the need arisen. Additionally, the possibility of having a discussion about options put the best ideas in perspective at all times. When one is muddled by lack of sleep or queasiness having a chat helps to correct any bad perceptions.
Doubtless it is possible to have another opinion about this voyage but at the end of the considerations it should be remembered that the boat was built to take care of its occupants and the crew will tend to make good decisions in its own best interest.
See you all at the dock ready for the next adventure.
Fatique and Short Cruises
By Chris Edmonson
When I went with the last club cruise from San Carlos to Mulege and Bahia Concepciòn there was no doubt we were going to have fun. In crewing for Rex in Shellback then racing on our return I had time to contemplate our schedule and it reminded me of several lessons involving safety.
Our way across was started around noon on a Friday and we had excellent conditions. During daylight we had worked out which watch we each would take for the rest of the trip over to the Baja side of the Sea of Cortez (Gulf of California). Since there were just the two of us and we each felt a three hour watch was right for us we headed into the night time hours. When you head out, especially on a short trip like this one was, it is hard to break into the habits of on-watch/off-watch routines right away. You know right off the bat that you aren’t going to be following the routine for very long and it’s hard, in the initial excitement of getting away to slow down and get the rest you are going to need to stay alert during your watch. If you leave the dock in daylight you feel you do not need any rest because you are fresh and the day is not any different than any other day… or, at least, that is what your body is telling you. It turns out that my favorite watch is the midnight to 03:00 (3:00 a.m.) stretch of time. There is solitude and the night sky can be, as it was during this cruise, incredible. I enjoy that time on the water but there are hindrances to safety that have come along to give me thought. In the right conditions we modern sailor types use tools like autopilots and while this is a wonderful instrument it can lead you astray too.
So, here is the scene; we are motoring along in extremely calm conditions at about two in the morning and Otto is working for the crew on deck… that is, I am wiling away the time on watch while the autopilot is keeping us on course. The night sky is providing one of the best displays of shooting stars I have ever seen and the moon has just gone down. I regularly glance around from side to side and fore and aft to be certain of seeing any portents of potential problems (PPP) and catching the full meteor shower on what had become a very dark night. I glance off to starboard for 3 or so minutes looking for the glow of anything on the Baja shore and when I glance back to port there is a funny set of lights a lot closer than seems possible. It is a set of lights, really, that seems wrong. There is a masthead light of white and it is WAY high with a red light lower and near the water. It is getting closer so this does not square with what I know about navigation lights. In learning about Nav lights I was told if I saw a red light it meant I did not have right of way and that I had crossed the centerline of the other boat AND that the configuration should be moving away from or parallel to me – or, at least, that I was not on a collision course. This set of lights was coming straight at me however and becoming larger and increasingly more clearly on a collision course. It took a minute of staring and considering before I knew what action I needed to take.
Now, on a small boat with one crew(person) on watch there are some assumptions that have to be made. They all involve a basic belief that the crew knows the boat well enough to make good choices while the off-watch stays resting. One problem with that is that any change in motion or sound will inevitably bring the off-watch out to investigate. I punched the Standby button on the autopilot and turned down the volume on the motor while I got ready to pull the autopilot off the tiller and turn the motor back to full roar (probably on a new heading). I also began to shine the largest flashlight aboard on the mains’l while I watched for any sign of change in the on coming boat. The stand-on boat was getting close indeed but I could see that it would now pass in front of us. About that time the skipper (Rex) is in the hatchway wondering what is happening. The crossing boat is in front of us and I can now see the white masthead light, no bow light and a red glow showing the cockpit of a sailboat under the bimini/dodger… no people visible and as it crosses it turns to the same heading we are on with what looks like a red stern light!! I point forward and Rex sees this boat as it moves away from us about 50 or 60 yards off the bow. I think that what I saw was a boat with a masthead light and somehow I was looking at some light (red) in the cockpit from all directions. When we got to Bahia Concepciòn we learned the rest of the story. It turns out that we had, in fact, seen a light in the cockpit that the crew was using to read by and the crew had not noticed that the autopilot had gone off line and taken the boat off on a 60 degree heading when the proper course was about 208 or so!! I felt that the boat had to be one of our group because when it changed course it went right to the same heading we were on. Being a much larger boat it moved off at a greater speed and was soon gone.
In all this I had thought about using the radio to hail the other boat but it would have meant leaving the cockpit to locate the portable or getting to the main radio. In either case I would have been away from the tiller and motor and real control of Shellback.
One of the many things learned on boats is that illusions happen easily and the more tired one is the more readily you can buy into that sort of deception. Had I kept the idea that the red bow light was actually a bow light my judgment of correct action could easily have led to a wrong choice. When I am tired I can more easily be persuaded that what I imagine is the correct view rather than some other just as plausible story.
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Awhile back I was in La Paz and watched part of a drama unfold that told me a few things about the lack of a watch system and fatigue.
There had been a single-handed sailor bringing a boat up from Cabo to La Paz. He had actually been singlehanding down from San Diego and from talking to a few people he had gotten to know in Cabo I found out that many had been worried about him because of his high constant fatigue level. Without an active watch set on board he regularly dozed off on a passage. In this instance he was making a short passage (Cabo to La Paz) and had gotten as far as Los Muertos at the point just before the turn into the Cerralvo channel. Long story shortened, he went to sleep and basically ploughed into the beach at Muertos thus managing to sink his boat, Irish Mist. The cruising network in La Paz responded and refloated the boat then towed it to La Paz. The cruisers got together in figuring out what need to be done to save the boat and its equipment. They also filled the diesel motor with oil and got it to turn over again. This was (and as far as I know, still is) a beautiful wooden boat. Fatigue had almost lost the boat and its crew. It’s more common than one might suppose for boats to run while the crew sleeps. It is more common than you might think for a boat to run without any Nav lights. It’s more possible to encounter a boat like this in the Sea of Cortez.
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My view for a long time has been that it is the crew’s job to see to it that the skipper gets more rest than they do. In an emergency I want to know that the person with the most knowledge of the boat has a clear head. If I can facilitate the skipper getting a few minutes of extra sleep or not having to do a job that I can do that is a little more difficult then I have fulfilled some of my part of signing on as crew. As a single-hander I am obligated to get sleep and see to it that I am not a hazard when I do sleep. For this I am prone to heaving-to and catching some rest. I turn on the anchor light and sleep in the cockpit. This may not be the best practice but it is what I have come to in finding a way to be as safe as I can be.
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The return trip from Bahia Concepciòn was a further example of on-watch handling. We had been in light air for most of the day. It had taken from around 10:00 in the morning until dusk to find ourselves perhaps five miles outside of the headlands of the bay. We did not want to motor because we had a limited gasoline supply and felt it would be better to conserve this. Around this time (dusk) we finally relented because the wind had gone away and was getting directionally challenged; we started the motor and set the autopilot.
The skipper had let me sleep in a bit and I started my watch around 01:30 while we noticed that the seas were building the wind driving it had not yet arrived. By 02:30 we were getting a taste of what was to follow and it was time to reduce sail some. I like sailing in good wind but in the middle of the night, even with a good moon, it does not make sense to blast along under full sail with rising wind speed. The boat was doing well but every less than 30 foot boat I have ever been on is a wet ride and this was no exception! My goal was to let Rex get below as soon as I got changed into something semi-appropriate for a dousing and get us to first light. We were a somewhat challenged because we needed to be on the side of the boat were we could not see the GPS read-out clearly and the compass on our side of the boat had a very dim light. I was steering best by the moon (almost full at this point) but it finally set behind us and I needed some other way to keep to a course. About that time the glow from Guaymas showed dimly on the horizon and a smaller glow that I assumed to be from San Carlos was a little to port of the larger glow. If I had been tired I might not have noticed this.
One thing about autopilots that I appreciate is that they do not always work in more radical conditions. I like steering the boat myself at those times because it keeps me aware of what is going on. This is especially true when things get more exciting. In the dark you cannot necessarily see when the next sea is going crash over the top and get you wet but you can feel when it might be about to happen. By sun up I was a fairly wet crewman and ready for some time off the tiller. Rex had probably not slept much but had been out of the weather for some of the time so was as rested as one could reasonable expect for being tossed around in the hull. As much as anything I needed to dry off and warm up. That constitutes rest in my book. A bit later Rex said, “Whales” and I struggled to get out of my sleeping bag and get my head out of the hatch. There was, indeed, a pod of whales that had just crossed in front of us and fairly closely! I was fully awake and after a change of clothing (again) was ready to take a turn steering. Rex prepared a breakfast of sorts (we opened some canned fruit cocktail) and enjoyed a wonderful morning slamming our way to the now visible San Carlos.
For a short cruise you can become over fatigued but we were in pretty good shape when we finally got to San Carlos. It had taken about 28 hours but with a watch system we had shared the burden of getting there and it meant more that we had shared the fun of it too.
We will see you out there and maybe next time you will have the opportunity to take in the cruise. Ask anyone who took this one on and you will find a lot of different and wonderful stories from the same event!
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Fueling
Anchoring & Rigging
By Chris Edmonson
One of the favorite moments in sailing for most sailors is when we turn the motor off. That is when we are actually doing what we came to the boat to do. At first when I got on a boat larger than 15 feet I was a little intimidated. All that area to negotiate to get out of the typical marina was full of unfriendly things to bump into and things don’t work the same in water as they do on land. It all took time to get used to how it was supposed to work. The whole time near the dock was spent with a motor on and being the primary source of propulsion it was nerve wracking.
Over time I got so used to sailing that I starting going to the fuel dock under sail. I sailed away from the dock, I sailed off the anchor and I contemplated just forgetting I had an engine. Of course there were those times when stormy weather made me glad that I had something other than sail to fall back on. It also made it easier in unfamiliar places to motor in and out of the slip. When I had a boat with a diesel the fuel challenges were mostly of the sort that had me occasionally checking if we had fuel but with 100 plus gallon capacity I didn’t think it about it more than once a year; and then only if I had to motor for long periods. At about 2/3rds of a gallon use per hour I could go quite a ways before getting concerned. Then, too, even running the engine for generating electricity reasons it took only an hour or two once a week to keep a charge up with a wind generator and a solar panel backup. It was here that I realized I wasn’t dealing with fuel fumes or similar issues. When I’ve had or used boats with gasoline engines it seemed that I was constantly messing with fuel issues and challenges.
If we could invent a hazard for our boats that is more obvious I cannot imagine what it would be. Do you think when they were designing boats in, say, the late 1950’s or 60’s they said out loud, “Well, let’s put in a gas motor so we scare the daylights out of the owners periodically!”
Gasoline is explosive nasty stuff.
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There was a time at the fuel dock in Santa Barbara that we had a problem taking on diesel.
We were coming back down the coast after a hard slog to windward (San Diego to San Francisco) and we had heard the weather report say there would not be much wind the rest of the way to San Diego. My theory was that we had used up the entire wind quota on the way north! It made sense to stop in and make sure we could do the rest of the trip without running out of fuel. We put the hose into the filler tube and busied ourselves with dockside running around while one of us stayed on board to negotiate the process. It turned out we were all needed on board.
Most of us are familiar with the automatic stop feature of the gas pumps we use all the time. It almost never fails that that the “auto” feature is missing from the marine pumps and when the fuel hits the top of the filler tube it just keeps coming. Diesel is some nasty stuff that is slow to evaporate and it clings to everything and smells strongly, to say the least. When we got back to the boat it was to help clean up the environmentally unfriendly fuel spill that had the dock abuzz with negativity. Gads, but this was a mess! It turned out that although we had easily gotten access to the fuel dock without a wait there was a line of boats waiting for us to leave by the time everything was ship shape again. It was clear that we had tested the patience of the three or four boats standing in line to get fuel.
The next time we needed fuel we had absorbent tubes near-by and two of us were paying attention to the sounds of the fueling operation. It turned out you could HEAR the special sound of the filler tube becoming over loaded!
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It is easy to make a mess of anchoring if you don’t do it very often. A friend of mine had asked me one time why experienced sailors with lots of ocean miles under their belts wouldn’t know how to anchor? “Going somewhere is not the same as stopping somewhere,” would be my reply today.
By starting to sail in small boats I never had to anchor for the first half year I sailed. By graduating to boats based at the docks in San Diego I put off learning to anchor for a while longer. Then came judgment day.
If you sail in the Arizona lakes you actually do have to learn to anchor if you are going spend much time there and that is where I finally learned the anchoring drill. I started spending weekends between races at the lake. Sometimes with crew but often I would drop the crew off at the dock with a prearranged time for picking them up the next day and I would go off on my own to find a nice place to spend the night. Often times I would find another bunch of boats already anchored and I would be encouraged to raft up with them instead of anchoring. When that happened I sometimes wasn’t getting any practice anchoring until around midnight when the wind kicked up and the one or two anchors attached to the boats would start dragging and it would be mass chaos to break the raft apart and have everyone anchor on their own in the dark. A little adrenaline can do wonders for you skills but it is hard to go back to sleep once you are wide awake listening to the wind scream through the rigging.
My real test came when I took my then 22 footer to Lake Roosevelt for ten days. I was single handing and it was late when I got there that day. That first night I found myself in the company of a boat with a bunch of small children on board and since I didn’t know the lake very well had decided it would be okay to tag along with that boat and raft up that night. This turned out to be a boon for the kids because it expanded the play area by quite a bit to have two boats to jump around on. Since I have always been okay with kids I did the same thing the next night after sailing in company off and on with that boat that next day. Then the weekend was over and I had the whole lake to myself for a week. I got to where I could sail into a cove and get the anchor down pretty much where I wanted it. In fact, I never used the motor for the rest of my time there. It became easy to sail on or off the anchor… or up to a dock to get ice when needed. It was the ongoing practice that made this ease happen.
I chose the north side of the lake to anchor every night and my reward was watching the deer, coyote and other wildlife come down to the waters edge while I ate dinner or breakfast. By the end of ten days I hadn’t said more than a few words and had gotten into a routine that mimicked a lifestyle I found again later when cruising. Swimming, fishing, sailing here and there… that was what I came for and that was what happened. The practice I got without realizing it made later encounters with the need to anchor in difficult circumstances a lot easier.
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Looking at your rigging is a really good idea. That is almost too simple a statement that we don’t always practice. It can be hard to get anything out of just “looking” at the rigging. You can’t always see hairline fractures. You can’t always tell that there is a problem until you stress the rigging.
Everywhere you look on a boat’s rigging there are stress points. Every time you tack you are loading up the rigging with potential breaking force. If you use rigging tape you are hiding the possible source of a dismasting. The top of the mast may be inaccessible much of the time… what do the connections look like up there? When was the last time you replaced your running rigging or any of your standing rigging? The pins are held in place by cotter rings or pins and can come loose of their own accord. The tension of the rigging has a lot to do with how long it will last and the forces it can stand up to… when was the last time you checked the adjustment?
Recently I had reason to go over to my favorite rigger’s shop in San Diego. One of the things I notice when I am there is a tray of the stuff that he takes off of boats he is working on. It doesn’t matter what the part is made of; brass, stainless steel or plastic, it is interesting to see how it broke or is about to break. He has shown me things broken in ways that make you shudder. The scariest ones are the ones that don’t look broken at all. He handed me a stainless fitting that looked whole and asked me what was wrong with it? It didn’t appear to have any issues. He had given it to me so that I took hold of it a particular way. He said, “Now, put it in your other hand… in the palm.” As soon as I did it fell apart! You couldn’t tell that there was even a crack in it when it was together.
A story for later is the one where we had the forestay break on our way windward and had to get turned around before everything came crashing down. But I’ll save that excitement for another day. Be safe out there and help each other be safe.
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Early Lessons
In thinking back to when I learned to sail I came across some safety lessons that didn’t seem like safety lessons at the time. Since then I have used every single one of them to my benefit and personal safety.
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After learning the basics of sailing on lake Pleasant, courtesy of a course from Scottsdale Community College, I signed up for a course in larger boats in San Diego. Going over to San Diego became an on-going experience from that time forward… one of my favorite places on the planet. We were learning in a pair of Ericson 29’s and later on a Willard 32. In any event, I showed up at the appointed time and place and the instructor, the same one from the SCC class, started by having us all sit the cockpits of the two boats side by side at the dock.
The small boats we learned on at lake Pleasant had no engines so the instructor (Bill) started by telling us about the motors on these boats. They were Atomic 4’s, a name that is ubiquitous in the marine world of the late ‘60’s through the ‘70’s. These are gasoline engines so we started by talking about clearing the bilge of all fuel fumes by running the blower. He walked us through the steps we needed to take in getting the boat away from the dock and then he showed us all over the boat to find the seacocks and understand the marine toilet. All good stuff but we all wanted to start sailing!! Bill saw this and cruelly called for a twenty-minute break.
When we got back to the boat Bill was ready with questions for us. It was a review of what he had just covered. Without realizing it we had absorbed nautical terminology and a fair idea of what these larger (to us) boats were about. Okay, so it’s time to leave the dock. WE thought we were going sailing but Bill knew that would be in a while yet. Keep in mind that it was still only about 9:30 in the morning and there was zero wind… typical San Diego at that hour. We didn’t know why we were going out so much before the wind came up but as I said, we were ready to go sailing.
So, out in the fairway, out of the finger, Bill calls for both boats to stop for a minute. He instructs the person in charge of the other boat to get a bit away from us and start the same routine he is going to start on our boat. That done he puts the boat into reverse and begins to carve a figure eight in reverse! We each take our turn doing the same thing… some with second tries to get it down pat. Then it’s into forward gear and we are taught a torque turn to keep the boat in the smallest possible footprint while turning 360 degrees. It involves going in forward and then reverse while using the natural torque of the propeller to maximize this effect with the helm hard over. We all try this and it’s about 10:30 and the wind is starting to come up. Time to go sailing? “Yes, it is.” says Bill.
We motor out to the end of the fairway, but not past the fuel dock while Bill kept up the review of the things we know about the correct order of getting the sails up. Head to windward and such and before we know it we are sailing out into the bay and the wind is a wonderful 8 to 10 knots. We each take our turns at steering and sheet handling. The motion of the boat heeled over in the relatively flat bay has us all excited. It’s not the ocean but it is salt water!
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As the day ticks along, Bill is bombarded with questions he has heard a thousand plus times. He still manages to get us through a turn each at the tiller and start the man-overboard drill that we still need for him to call the day a success. After that we are released to sail where we wish until about 4:30 (16:30) when we head back in. It was then that he talked us through the sails down routine before we executed it. There was no rush and he warned us that the sails would be slapping around while the boom was not fully controlled. It went off without a hitch and soon we were motoring back into the finger. We had the fenders ready to kick over and dock lines attached. There was a discussion before we went down the finger as to who needed to do what when we got to the dock. This went well and before we could all disappear to showers and the like we were handed the put away chores. All very organized in retrospect.
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By now you are wondering what this has to do with safety exactly. The take away here is many fold. When people are new to sailing they have only a vague idea about how it all works. Showing is a part of the learning and talking your way through it is essential. Knowing how to stop and maneuver the boat is more important than making it go at first. At least, for the beginner, thinking it through and knowing what to expect in easy steps before you carry them out is a reminder that we all learned at one time. Did you ever spend an afternoon watching the hysterical comings and goings at the ramps at Lake Pleasant? The screaming, the yelling, the tears; gads but how do people ever learn in those situations?
Over the next several trips to San Diego we tried everything we could think of to gain skills we would need. When we finally got out of the bay and further from the dirt every single thing we learned about the basic handling of the boat came into play. Before long we were sailing up to the fuel dock or heaving to for rest on a longer passage. We still need to practice man-overboard and keep an eye on our equipment and the weather. When we have new people on board we need to bring them along at their own pace to understand what is happening or going to happen, CALMLY. Too basic, perhaps, but part of safety is bringing everyone up to a higher skill level each time we have the opportunity. It means talking your way through what you already know is going to happen rather than letting it be a shock when it is perceived that all hell breaks loose… like the flogging sails when you are taking them down.
See you on the water, prepared to introduce others to safe operating.
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A Second Look
By Chris Edmonson
You may recall a tragedy that occurred a couple of years ago. There was a
powerboat lost with all hands approximately 80 miles southwest of Puerto Peñasco. It was a catamaran fishing boat and it was with shock that the family
enlisted the aid of pilots and fishermen and finally found the boat and some of
the bodies. There are lessons to be learned from this incident… even
(especially) for sail boaters.
From the accounts of what condition the boat on the boat. The report was that the skipper had a problem before he
left the dock and had put aboard new batteries. If the alternator on his motor
was not functioning he might have bled down the charge not realizing that he was
not recharging the batteries on his way out to the fishing site. No one knows
for sure but this scenario certainly suggests itself. Once out in the location
of his fishing the skipper may have trolled for a time and then for some reason
turned off his motor or it may have stopped operating. It was then that he and
his crew discovered the engine would not start again.
The boat was found overturned. What caused the capsize and could it have been
prevented?
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Most of us sail monohulled boats or if we use catamarans we know some things
that will help keep us out of trouble. What may have happened with this accident
is that the boat simply got sideways to the sea and turned over.
When you look at a powerboat you notice a few things right away. The rudder is
small and as a result you lose steerage at speeds we might well be capable of
continuing sailing with. In fact, it has been said that the sign of a good
sailor is that he/she can continue to sail in flat and almost windless
conditions. On a powerboat you don’t have that option. Without forward
momentum you are out of control. A sailboat tends to keep its bow to the wind
but can also find itself sideways. It does get there later than a powerboat so
we don’t tend to think about it as much. Catamarans tend not to be heavy
displacement boats. This means that they are more subject to wind effects in low
speed situations. They will present the broadest “sail” area, the hull, when
not under control.
The theory expressed here is that the boat in the accident had no steerage and
was not pointed into the wind and seas. The wind was up that day… in the range
of 30 to 40 knots… so the seas would have been running fairly high. In the Sea
of Cortez my experience has been that the short distances involved generate a
steep, short period wave. If that were the conditions of that day then the
emergency the boat thought it had was not same as the emergency it really had.
You can imagine the captain and crew opening the engine compartment and looking
into whether they could spot a way to start the motor or perhaps the battery
compartment to see if there was a loose connection. If the boat was outboard
powered perhaps they concentrated on the outboard(s) by opening the cowling. In
any case, it takes time; precious seconds even, in a seaway to do these things.
In the meantime the boat is not rounding up but instead going sideways. Once
there it would be climbing each wave in more and more peril. A steep eight-foot
wave front is more than enough to turtle a boat and those were the conditions
reported that day in the cruising radio nets.
The real emergency in this case was that the boat needed to be pointed toward
the wind while they sorted out how to start the motor, or lacking that
capability, would lay ahull in relative peace. Had the crew put out a bucket or
an open ice chest tethered with as much line (rope) as could be found on board
or even high test strength fishing line from the bow it would have brought the
bow to weather. By keeping the bow into the wind they would then have had time
to deal with the engine’s issue. Of course, with the exception of anchor rode,
powerboats don’t tend to have much rope aboard. Sailboats certainly do.
We know how or should know how to bring our bow into the wind, back wind the
jib, release the main and then push the tiller up into the wind to heave to. For
a sailboat this is a built-in safety feature of the boat. Sometimes it is not
enough. Especially in radical conditions it is not enough. A sea anchor is
something to consider deploying in conditions where you cannot leave any sail up
but have a large need to slow the boat and keep the bow to the wind. In
experiments it has been found that it does not take much surface area on the sea
anchor to hold the nose of a sailboat to windward. The largest consideration is
the strength of the attachment of the line to the anchor. It is also a good idea
to have a swivel of some sort at that same point to keep the anchor aligned to
its best advantage. Learning to heave to is an essential skill. Knowing what to
do if that is not enough is more than a good idea no matter where you sail. In
the Sea of Cortez conditions deteriorate rapidly and knowing when to call it a
day is also essential. Since the Sea is narrow in most of the places you are
likely to go the leeward shore since it is never that far away in a nasty blow.
You have to assume that Murphy will be present and have to have the equipment to
overcome the problem.
For the Captain and the crew lost in overwhelming circumstance we can grieve.
For our friends who go to sea hereafter we can caution all to be better
prepared.
Staying
Attached to the Boat
By Chris Edmonson
Greetings from the land of safety!
When I was learning to sail my instructor’s first question to the group of us student types was, “How many of you can swim?” He then defined “swimming” as staying afloat for a minimum of 5 minutes by any means possible. He didn’t give a fig for form or style. My reaction to this was deep down and heart felt. Like most of the students there at the time I just wanted to learn how to sail. Why was the first issue about whether or not I could survive apart from the boat?
The class proceeded and we often ended up in the water… wearing Personal Floatation Devices (PFD’s) and staying afloat for 5 minutes. This was not because we were doing anything “wrong” but rather the instructor was putting us in situations that would have us righting the small boats we started with. So, we would go out a little ways from shore and dump the boat over and work like the dickens to figure out how to get it upright again. We did this in ones and twos until we could do it almost blindfolded. That was sort of what the goal was in learning to tie certain knots too. We did it until we could do it without thinking about it AND with our eyes closed. Now understand, he didn’t MAKE us do it this way… it just seemed like a good idea that we learn it that well. He made that clear. His theory was that if we could do these things in all conditions and automatically we would be better sailors. At the time it seemed like a good idea and still does.
Now page forward a few years and you find yourself going cruising on a larger boat. In getting ready to leave the dock you rig jack lines and all the control lines are led to the cockpit and the roller furling is first rate. The lazy jacks are rigged to reef the main. You have radar aboard as well as both VHF and SSB radios as well as GPS and EPIRB. You have an autopilot and a bunch of time on your hands to go somewhere. You talk it over with your spouse… what are the issues when we leave the dock for the last time in a while? “Well,” she says,” If you go out on deck at any time you need to be wearing a harness and/or better yet you will only go out in daylight.” The thought behind that was to translate as, “I don’t want to finish this trip by myself, wondering what happened to you.” Fair enough although not completely practical.
The issue was (and is) I needed to stay ON the boat. Not near it or in the vicinity but definitely ON the boat. Now let’s talk about what sorts of accidents can separate one from the boat. A leading cause, if you believe some sources, of getting separated is stepping to the leeward stays and relieving oneself and losing your grip in the process. This is when you’re a long way from shore… often at night… occasionally with a sea running. The reason one would do this is not wanting to go below and disturb the crew or just not wanting to go below period. Another of the things that can happen is to go forward to fix something that is caught or over wrapped or otherwise not functioning properly. This too can lead to going overboard. Getting knocked over by the boom or some other contrivance. You know all this already. You vow to not put yourself in a situation where the odds are even slightly higher that you would go overboard. In other words, you won’t do those things that could result in an accident. Risk avoidance. That was why you had all the lines set up to be worked from the cockpit wasn’t it? That is why the emergency gear is in a handy place, yes? Even in good lighting you agree with your spouse to use the jack lines and when you set them up you made sure they ran from the stern all the way to the bow without interference. Risk control. You don’t want to go overboard almost as much as your first mate doesn’t want you to. To name the risk is not the same as thinking about it when a need arises.
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So there you are, many days out of San Diego, heading down the Baja coast. It is the midnight watch and your crew has gone below leaving you to manage for a while. The wind is picking up and you have all sail up except the stays’l. Time to put some sail away. You start by reefing the main. The line jams and you put one foot out of the cockpit and grab the line led along the boom… one good yank and everything is working again. The main is then reefed. You then start to pull in the roller furling line for the genoa. It jams… there is probably an over wrap at the base of the furler. You are wearing your SOSpenders (PFD and harness) with the clip on tether so you clip onto the jack line and go forward to the bow. Sure enough there is a wrap that has the furler not functioning. Still clipped on, in the dark, you feel for the line and start working to free the jam. About the time you get it released you hear your spouse (crew) frantically calling your name and looking back you see her searching the sea BEHIND the boat. “Maybe I should have thought about this before I went forward,” you are thinking as you call out to let her know you are okay.
When you get back to the cockpit you see more than concern is clouding your first mate’s eyes. There are dark, dark clouds there and they are not going to be dispelled in an instant. “Yes, I know I promised… yes, I know it wasn’t a good idea… yes, I will call you up on deck if there is a next time… yes, I will turn the deck light on… yes, I was on the tether…”
A few minutes later she has gone back down to sleep. The genoa is reefed and things have settled down. You check your position and figure out you are about 40 miles off the coast. It would have been more than a 5-minute “swim” if you had been taken overboard. Very sobering.
Page backwards a few years and you recall the night on Lake Pleasant during the Governor’s Cup when you almost went overboard in the middle of the night. The wind had come up all through the day and around midnight you wanted to take down the jib because there was even more wind building. No jack lines, no tether, just walk forward and take the non-furling jib down. After all, this is a lake. You aren’t off shore. The boat lurched and you grabbed air as you tried to steady yourself. Fortunately on a small boat you are never far from something to grab and the second reach finds the lifeline. You find your balance and are saved the experience of going into that dark cold (very cold) water. “Yes, I should have known a few years later to not tempt fate off Baja,” you will later think.
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Having equipment does not mean you are being safe. Using the equipment, in and of itself, does not mean you are being safe. Thinking about what you are doing helps. Controlling risk is something that isn’t always possible, or at least, it should be understood that the unexpected is probably broader than you have thought about yet. That’s part of the definition of an accident isn’t it? On a boat just having the equipment means you have taken a step forward but the possibility of that equipment malfunctioning is still there as well as the circumstance being more than could have been anticipated and thus overwhelming the equipment. On a few occasions I have found myself out of the cockpit bouncing down with the bow into the water as I work on something there. It’s cold, it’s wet, it’s dangerous and it’s part of sailing sometimes. These days I tend to have a lot of stuff with me to minimize the risk. As stated before, I make use of the jack lines, tether, PFD/harness, life lines; man overboard kit (throw-able device), lines led aft and anything else I can put on the boat to make it safer. It does not eliminate risk.
What is on your list of safety items on the boat? How have you prioritized these things? Where are they? Do you forget about them from time to time? Staying on the boat is not on the list but it’s certainly the first issue. Cover that one and lots of the other issues don’t have a chance to develop into a problem.
Propane Systems
MORT CAPLAN TSC
Safety Afloat Officer
This
month I want to make a few comments about propane Systems.
This
article isn’t intended to be comprehensive, or a do-it-yourself guide, but
is just some of my own observations and opinions that I believe might serve to
help prevent some potentially serious problems if you consider blowing up your
boat and being propelled a significant distance up in the air as serious.
I had a potential client who did that one time, although he managed it not
with the propane system, but by not sniffing the bilge and turning on the
blower before starting the engine after refueling. As I recall it ruined his
whole weekend I can’t remember who he wanted to pay him for his own
carelessness, but you can be sure it was someone besides himself or he wouldn’t
have been in my law office.
On a cruising boat of any size, which is a deliberately vague statement, a
permanently installed propane system is the most practical way to go for
cooking. Propane burns with a hot flame, is easily controllable, and large
amounts of energy can be stored in a relatively small space, which is also one
of its dangers. Pressurized and un-pressurized alcohol, diesel fuel, liquefied
natural gas; wood and coal all have their proponents. However, I would be
willing to bet that propane is the overwhelming favorite, at least on this
side of the Atlantic.
I have been told that in Europe butane use is common, but I believe that if
you can burn one you can burn the other, and there is no difference in the
systems or the necessary safety precautions. I base this on having seen
European cruisers who told me they usually burned butane, filling their tanks
with propane, although they had to use adaptors because the fittings on the
fill hoses were different.
Note that I said above that propane was the most practical for
cooking. Heating is a different story. If you intend to cruise in cold
climates, which are incomprehensible to me, in my opinion, a diesel heater is
a superior way to go. It burns the same fuel as your engine, avoids running
gas lines with their potential leaks around the boat, and a spill or leak,
while messy, is not particularly dangerous. I had a Force 10 diesel cabin
heater on a cruising ketch I owned, and was completely satisfied with it.
For cooking on a small weekender, I would use a camp stove with an attached
propane bottle, an alcohol stove, or whatever else turns you on; anything that
didn't need a permanently installed propane system.
How
the technical stuff.
Propane installations on boats should meet the standards set forth by the
American Boat and Yacht Council in their publication Standards and Technical
Information Reports for Small Craft. Here are a few highlights.
The storage tanks should be kept in a separate, sealed, locker, with an
overboard drain in the bottom. The vent hose should not have any low spots,
and should be kept above the waterline at all points. On some older wooden
cruising boats that don't have built in storage lockers, you will frequently
see propane tanks mounted on the foredeck in the open air or in a wooden box,
near the mast. This works; leaking propane can't get below. There should be a
remotely controlled solenoid shut-off valve mounted to the tank.
In the event of a leak or other problem, this permits you to shut off
the propane from below with a minimum of delay. This should be a fail-safe
valve, which requires electrical current to keep it open. We lost electrical
power one time off the Atlantic coast of Costa Rica because of mismatched
pulleys on the engine and alternator, and after using up all our spare belts
and running the batteries down, had to eat uncooked food. Still, I consider a
fail-safe solenoid operated shut-off valve an important requirement.
Keep the tank shut off when you are not using any of the gas appliances.
Check for leaks every so often by pressurizing the gas lines by opening
and closing the tank shut off valves with all appliance valves closed, and
watching the pressure gage. It should hold steady. Use a certified tank, a
pressure gauge, and a regulator, all of which should be in the scaled locker,
and ABYC approved hoses, tubing and fittings. On my ketch we didn't have any
hoses, except in the locker. Everywhere else we used copper tube. It corroded
over a period of time, at least on the surface, which made me think that maybe
approved hoses would have been a better idea. Lastly, don't use a cabin heater
or use the stove for cabin heating without adequate ventilation. A friend of
mine did this, when staying overnight on his boat in the marina, and later
told me he recalled waking up in an ambulance and hearing an attendant say:
"Hurry up I'm losing him."
Holey Hull, Boatman, the vessel is sinking
Pete & Nancy Hardy
Nothing will get your attention faster then going below for a cup of coffee only to find the floorboards awash; "We're taking on water!"
First priority, find the source (this in itself can be a monumental task, one we will discuss next month). Once you find the leak, stop it, and for that you may need some emergency supplies which you hopefully have aboard.
1. Softwood tapered plugs. These are available at most marine stores in a
variety of sizes. In the case of a seized through hull or broken hose, the plug is jammed
or hammered in place to stop the water flow.
An appropriate sized plug should be located near each through hull fitting.
2. Spare hoses and hose clamps. Old or damaged hoses and bad hose clamps are a major concern. You should carry a small inventory of spare hoses to replace any hose on the boat. And don't buy automotive hose clamps. These have ferrous metal tensioning screws, which rust away in short order leaving nothing but magic to hold the hose in place. As a precaution always use two marine grade hose clamps on hoses at through hulls.
3. A collision mat. We keep a 4' X 4' utility tarp aboard, made of sail cover materiel. It has. Three grommets on each side and serves many useful purposes around the boat. Should the need arise, it can be quickly rigged and secured to the outside of the hull to cover a hole. A sail, while a bit more clumsy to handle, can also do the job.
The prudent mariner will regularly inspect hoses and clamps, replacing any that show the slightest sign of age or damage. Don't forget the engine hoses.
Oh yes, don't have a wimpy bilge pump. It may be fine to keep the odd dribble under control but when water is pouring into the boat you'll need the biggest, baddest, fastest pump your budget and space will allow. If the primary pump is electric, you should also have a high volume manual bilge pump as back up.
>Have fun out there
Holey Hull, Boatman, the vessel is sinking Part II
Pete & Nancy Hardy
Last time we took a look at some of the emergency supplies you should have aboard to
stop the leak if your boat starts taking on water. However, before you can stop the leak
you must find it, often not an easy task.
Unless you hit a rock or something (use the collision mat for this - see the last
installment), chances are the water is coming from an existing opening in the boat or from
the fresh water tank. if you are on the ocean, tasting the bilge water (Yuck!!) is one way
to find out if it is fresh water if it is salt water begin with the obvious, the
thru-hulls. Hopefully you don't have too many and you do know where they are located (if
it is a charter boat, be certain to scout this out before leaving the dock). It is helpful
if you've opened and closed the sea cocks recently to make certain they are operating.
Check the hoses and clamps at each thru-hull. if a hose has popped off or ruptured, close
the sea cock to stop the flow. if the sea cock is seized in the open position, cut the
hose at the thru-hull and drive home the appropriate tapered wood plug. if the leak is at
an engine hose, shut down the engine and close the cooling water inlet sea cock before
attempting the repair Use caution, the engine will be hot and the water could also be very
hot (180 degrees is a normal diesel operating temperature.). If the water is entering at
the stuffing box (where the propeller shaft passes through the hull), you should be able
to reduce the flow by tightening the packing nut. This requires a special wrench. Do you
have one aboard? Oh yes, it should go without saying, shut the engine down before messing
with the stuffing box. Water can also enter the boat through a sink drain, usually in a
sink located close to the side hull which ends up below the water level when the boat is
heeled. Such drains should have thru-hulls with sea cocks. Remember to close it before
leaving the dock to avoid this problem.
Have fun out there... and keep the boat dry.
Make it Easy on the Crew when Docking
Pete & Nancy Hardy
It happens all too often. The crew is expected to make a very dangerous leap in an
attempt to salvage a lousy approach to the dock. We have seen it and we have even
read, in a major sailing publication of all places, of a skipper who actually
"trained" his wife to make that leap.
We could not believe the piece ever made it to the press. We have seen a crew member make
that leap, slip on the dock, fall and then slide off the other side, sustaining a serious
laceration in the process. We have heard of crew members who have missed the dock and
found themselves in the water between the dock and the boat. Don't ask your crew to jump
to save your poor landing.
"What is a poor skipper to do?" you ask. Well, for starters, think safety first.
Don't put your crew at risk. Here are some things we tell people when teaching the fine
art of docking a boat (power or sail):
1. We instruct the crew to never jump. Strongly emphasize this point since some crew
members will jump on their own if not instructed otherwise.
2. Don't start your approach until all dock lines and fenders are in position for the
particular dock. Instruct the crew to have the fenders just touching the water (unless you
know the dock is particularly high). Make certain bow, stern and spring lines are set to
run outside lifelines and pulpits. Instruct the crew where to stand and how to disembark
by stepping off the boat - Remember; NO JUMPING.
3. Take into account the wind, current and other boats, all of, which can make a big
difference in how the docking goes.
4. Approach at a speed no faster than required to control your vessel. In calm conditions
with no wind or current that means dead slow. Wind and/or current may require more speed
to maintain control. If you are going no faster than necessary to maintain control and you
have a major surprise, like engine failure or reverse failure, the chances that someone or
something will get hurt or damaged are greatly reduced. This is no time for hot shot
driving, you are too close to hard stuff
5. Always leave yourself an out. If, on approach, things don't look as they should decide
early enough to turn away or back away and set up the approach again.
Done correctly, your crew will be able to step off the boat and secure the dock lines with minimal risk. Besides that, you will appear to be a person who knows what you are doing rather than the main act at a three-ring circus. Remember, its how you look that really matters.
An excellent video on the subject of docking a sailboat is
"Sailboat Handling Under Power", by Ray Rutledge. You can order it direct from
Western Media Products by calling l-8OO~2-89O2 or check their web site at
www.media-products.com. By the way, if you haven't seen the video, Around Cape Horn,
filmed on a full rigged ship in 1929, it is an amazing video and also available here.
Have fun out there, . . Safely.
Recovering the Crew Overboard
By Pete & Nancy Hardy
In a previous issue we discussed showing the crew how to
return to pick up the skipper who has fallen off the boat. Once you have made contact with
the overboard crew (COB), the next challenge is getting the person back on the boat. The
crew must be prepared to cope with a person who is not able to assist either because of
injury or hypothermia. If you don't have a "Lifesling" mounted on your stern
pulpit, consider adding this valuable piece of safety gear It is a ready-to-launch wrap
around float with 50 feet of attached polypropylene (floating) line. Use it to bring the
person alongside then use it as a lifting harness to get the person aboard. It is unlikely
the short handed crew will be able to lift a wet, unassisting person aboard. Some form of
lifting device is needed. You can purchase a single purpose block and tackle for your
Lifesling but we rigged our boom vang with snap shackles at both ends for easy removal.
Use a halyard to give the block and tackle adequate loft so the hoisted person will clear
the deck. Lead the running end of the tackle through a jib block to the jib winch to hoist
the person out of the water; Take care to prevent the person from being swung into the
boast as you hoist. Since you have a good first aid kit and you are medically trained
(because you followed the recommendations in last month's Safety Afloat), you will know
how to deal with any injuries or hypothermia suffered by the crew member as a result of
going overboard.
Have fun out there... and stay on the boat
First Aid
By Pete & Nancy Hardy
Someone on the boat should be first
aid and CPR (Cardio Pulmonary Resuscitation) trained. It only makes sense. By the very
nature of going sailing you have placed yourself and crew an appreciable distance from the
emergency response system (911). If you are in Mexico quality assistance is even more
remote.
Take a First Aid class, stay current, have a complete first aid kit and know how to use
it.
We purchased a medium size tool box and filled it with medical supplies and manuals. If
you build it yourself you'll know exactly what's in it. Make it your traveling kit, keep
it in your car and take it to your boat.
Here's a list of some basic items1 a starting point for your first aid kit:
BANDAGES; Band-aids, gauze pads, gauze bandages, "wet proof' medical adhesive tapes, swabs, "2nd Skin Pads", an Ace bandage, and a triangular bandage.
OINTMENTS & CREAMS: Purell Hand Sanitizer, Bacitracin (antibiotic) ointment, Hydrocortisone (anti-itch) ointment, Benadryl (histamine blocker, itch stopping) cream, and Bactine first aid antiseptic.
PILLS & TABLETS: Tylenol, Advil, Aspirin, Pepto Bismol, a laxative, a decongestant, an antihistamine, cold remedy (NiQuil/DayQuil), motion sickness (Meclizine), and cough drops.
OTHER: Pocket mask or other barrier to be used for rescue breathing, latex gloves, space blanket, scissors, tweezers, small flashlight, first aid book/pen/paper, list of emergency phone numbers and radio frequencies (be sure to share these with the crew), thermometer, shaving razor, and a snake bite/sting kit (Sawyer's "Extractor").
Scheduled First Aid/CPR classes in Tucson: The Southern Arizona Chapter of the American Red Cross offers First Aid and CPR classes once or twice a week. To get a schedule or sign up ($30), call 318-6740, extension 105.
Have fun out there-Safely!
When a skipper goes missing
By Pete & Nancy Hardy
When the Skipper goes Missing For the inexperienced crew, losing the captain overboard can
be the worst nightmare. It happens, and the safety of everyone is instantly at risk. The
American Sailing Association recommends using the"Figure Eight" maneuver when a
person goes overboard be cause it is completed without the need to jibe the boat.
Inexperienced crew members can learn to sail the boat back to the crew over board (COB)
with just a few basic skills and a little practice.
I. Have the new crew practice a beam reach including coming up to a beam reach or falling off to a beam reach from other points of sail. No need to go into the terminology details, just show them how to turn to boat so the wind is abeam.
2. Practice coming about from a beam reach to a beam reach on the opposite tack. Emphasize turning into the wind and don't worry about precise sail trim.
3. Practice stopping the boat by turning into the
wind while easing the mainsheet so the main sail will luff. Use a buoy or fender on the
water as a target.
After a little practice the crew, with some coaching from the captain, should be able to
string these skills into the Figure 8 which can be used when a person goes overboard
(practice by dropping a PFD). Here is the sequence, which begins with the cry "crew
over board"
1. Turn the boat so the wind is abeam (without changing tacks).
2. Come about" after you are at least two boat lengths from the COB. Do not trim the jib, uncleat it and let it fly. The boat should now be sailing back towards the person in the water
3. Aim for a point one to two boat lengths down wind of the COB so you can turn into the wind, easing the mainsheet, luffing the main sail to stop the boat close enough to the person to throw a line.
4. Drop the Sails
5. If you are too far away to make contact, get underway on a beam reach and try again. Not only is this an excellent training exercise, it's great fun and everyone will feel better knowing how easy it is to sail back to the person in the water For more details and information on the Figure Eight maneuver see Sailing Fundamentals, by Gary Jobson (the ASA's training manual, available at major book stores or at West Marine). For a quick reference on this and other COB techniques, see the "Crew Overboard Rescues" West Advisor in your West Marine Catalogue.
Next month: Are you prepared to cope with a medical emergency?