90 miles and lessons learned

[Dale Tanski]

We seem to always try to get somewhere with the boat on Labor day weekend.  Our weather has been outstanding as of late.  Friday we were in the high 80's something Buffalo had a lot of this summer but for September that is unusual.  When it gets hot here the wind hides.  September is a great month as cooler temperatures bring great sailing wind. 

The forecast was looking iffy, little to no wind and always the threat of thunderstorms for Friday and Saturday. By Sunday it was supposed to be 5 to 15 prevailing out of the southwest and by Monday up into the 20's as a series of cold fronts were to blow in riding on more boomers. 

When in doubt cast off.  We have wasted far to many opportunities listening to the weather guys be way too wrong.  We shoved off Friday at around 10pm in what was suppose to be light and variable.  We cleared Buffalo's south breakwater in 12+ and headed for an excellent anchorage 10 miles upwind.  An hour into it the wind dies and we motored that last 5 miles. 

Saturday morning brought dead calm so we continued our motor westward going somewhere, anywhere.  I use to hate motoring but since the wheel pilot it is not a problem.  Set it and forget it.  Motoring now gives me the chance to play and learn more about the chart plotter, read and just watch the water go by. 

At noon we ducked into a small town 5 mile up a small river and had a great lunch and finished our provisioning. The temperatures should have given me some indication about the weather engine with upper 80's and little to no wind.  By 3:30 that afternoon we were 45 mile west of where we left our dock lines, hanging on the hook in 7 feet of 80 degree water tucked in nicely behind a rock point which contained a handful of summer cottages barely visible in the dense trees.  There was just enough wind to keep the stern toward the beach.  As the afternoon slid into evening, the power boaters gathered their kids and headed home.  One lone 20+ power pocket cruiser hung on the hook behind us.  The evening was delicious.  We hung motionless playing games, reading, fishing and listening to the tree frogs The weather radio said possible thunderstorms in the morning but it was Sunday evening and Monday morning that was to be the beginning of the end as a long line of cells marked the frontal boundary.

I awoke right around 3am from the distant rumble of thunder.  The rumble was never ending and the sky was flickering with both heat and cloud to ground static. I knew the area we were in very well having fished there many times with my father and had even snorkeled the rock outcroppings on both sides of the point.  A very shallow reef stuck out in front providing additional protection.  I knew that 99% of all nasty weather comes in from the west having witnessed them several times.  In the great lakes, squalls hit like a freight train.  They are nasty but typically last 10 to 15 minutes and dissipate. It is not unusual however to get a succession of them but most of the time there is a breather in between.  I had seen as a youth, during the heat of July, squall after squall run that horizon complete with water spouts for hours at a time.

We got the boat closed up just as rain began.  We were hanging on a single hook, a 35lb CQR plow on a sand bottom.  I had approximately 100 feet of rode out.  Because we were behind a point, as long as it blew out of the west or SW we would be fine.  The initial blast was in the 30's and the boat rolled and swung. There was plenty of continuous lightning to light the area and provide a reference on position.  I started the engine just in case we had to relieve some of the pressure off of the anchor.  The beach was only 200 feet to the north but the wind was out of the west and we had approx. 3/4 of a mile before we hit land a stern to the east. The anchor held for the first 30 minutes as one squall after another pelted us.  As the boat started to drag, I found that the engine at idle put too much slack in the rode in the lulls, and when the boat slid back while in neutral, the anchor broke loose over and over again. Perhaps I might have been better off letting the boat be. The only real way to tell that we were dragging was to feel the rode.

It was my 14 year old daughter Morgan that answered the call for help, foul weather jacket and lifejacket with harness.  Thank god we have a good deck light for rehook duty.  Same goes for the power boat that was now next to us.  It was that boats anchor light that let me know how well we were holding overall long term.  We reset that single anchor and I added our lunch hook another CQR but only a 15 pounder.  It helped, but as the boat hunted and swung in the blasts, each dragged foot by foot.  On the second reset I switched the 15lb for another 35 CQR and set them about 30 feet apart.  The double anchor setup soothed the swinging but neither held for very long.  The farther we dragged the greater the distance from the rock point and the more wind we were exposed to.  Up close the water was smooth but too shallow for us, there were white caps starting at about the 150 yard mark.

By the time we pulled the 3rd set we were bouncing bottom.  We had slid back over a sand bar and the wind had clocked left and was now out of the south west swinging us shore side.  Because it was all sand it was not an issue and I was not really concerned.  At one point we dragged over a bar and the boat actually sat comfortably on the bottom.  This relieved much of the stress on the two anchors and I contemplated keeping her there for a while.  The wind continued to clock left more and more southerly which swung us and we were floating easily again.  We moved out to reset once more.  As the wind went south, the waves began rolling over the reef at the end of the point.  It became painfully obvious that we would not be able to stay much longer but it was still pitch dark in between the lightning.  We were now stern into the beach and I could see and hear yet another line squall heading our way. 

I told my somehow calm wife and youngest daughter to ready the boat below to leave, while Morgan and I pre rigged the main with two reefs.  After 3 hours the light of day break was just beginning to illuminate the tree line. In a mid twenties lull, we pulled the boat forward to retrieve the anchors.  As my luck always seems to go, both were now set and set very well.  If it were not for the building waves from the open water to the south we would have been more than safe to stay, but we pulled one at a time and headed out.  Each was caked with hard clay.  We set the staysail and reefed main and motored sailed at 200 degrees magnetic out of the bay. 

Lake Erie is known for its square chop.  The lake only averages 40 feet deep and when it first pipes up, the face of the waves are straight up and straight down.  In the three hours that the line squalls marched on by, they had whipped the surface into 3 and 4's that were just over a boat length crest to crest. The ride home had many options and places to stop, stay and wait but we took her the full distance.  The wind was on our hip at 120 degrees along with the now rounder rolling seas.  It held between 17 and 23 knots true.  I added our 130% headsail to the mix of canvas and it dampened the roll and kept the boat in the 6's and 7s all the way home.  It felt strange if our hull speed dropped under 6 1/2 and we hit 7.87 on the gps off one particularly big gust.  It rained about every half hour for 5 minutes but each rain incident did not bring the squall winds that the mornings events did.

I learned much today.  Perhaps much of it I already knew but none the less it was a lesson.  I suspect the beautiful summer night had much to do with my complacency.  I did make the following mistakes...
1) The weather guys did say thunderstorms in the morning.  I should have had the 2nd 35 lb CQR at the very least in the 2nd roller on the bow ready to go but I did not.
2) I should have had my jacklines rigged on deck.  We only typically set them up when sailing at night but I should have done it just to be sure. I clipped off to the lifelines when forward, something I do not like to do.
3) I knew the bottom was sand.  What I did not know was the sand was not that deep and just below the sand was rock hard clay.  This is why the plows would not dig in initially.  I should have had a Danforth anchor aboard for the clay but I did not.
4) I knew the area and I knew the weather patterns but what I did not anticipate was the 90 swing to a south wind.  After the squalls went by the wind went back to SW but by then it was too late.

What I did do right was helpful.

1) Before we went to bed I told Morgan to always look at your compass to know where deep waters lie.  I explained that in a storm you might not be able to see the shore or other landmarks and you must know which way is out.  We both knew 200 degrees was the way out the next morning.
2) All of the sails were uncovered since our Friday night departure.  The main halyard was attached to the main's headboard.  I typically just loop the halyard around the halyard winch to pull the main towards the gooseneck and snug it up.
3) I did have reef lines and knew how to use them.
4) We both had lifejackets with harnesses on.  I had a knife and a double ended safety tether lanyard.
5) We have an excellent foredeck light as well as a mizzen deck light.  We used both often.
6) Early on we lit the binnacle compass so we could see the 200 degree mark in addition to the chart plotter.
7) Prayers are answered.
It was a good anchorage.  If we had to pick a beach to drag onto this one is perfect with clean pebble free sand. Trust me that thought crossed my mind over and over during the 3 hours.
9) I chose a good sail combination prior to being into the full on chop and waves. The boat was not under powered nor over canvassed.
10) Half way home I radioed a passing freighter leaving the Welland canal.  I asked for some information regarding the dark sky that was just behind us and they informed me that the cell contained winds only in the 20's.

One thing that I already knew about the design of the boat, but lived through it several times and felt it for myself today, was the boat sliding off of a wave.  The design of the keel being so shallow allows the boat to only heel so much and then slide down the face righting itself in the process.  Deep fin boats tend to trip over their keels and bury the rail.  We slid down the square face of a wave several times while rounding up and squaring off to the face of the 2nd or 3rd big wave in the set.  At no time did the boat handle or perform poorly or unexpectedly.  Morgan actually drove much of the way home. She by the way is ready to go again tomorrow.  Above all preparation is the key.  Always be ready for anything and give yourself options.  I thought many times about leaving the anchorage early but that would have put us right in the teeth of the squalls in pitch dark. I can not fathom a hurricane.

Dale

[RockysMate]

WHEW !!!

[S/V Deo Volente]

Sometimes it's hard to understand why they call it "pleasure boating" 

[barrylab]

Hey dale,
     Did it look anything like this? This is pleasure boating in Northern Maine. Came complete with hail stones the size of quarters.

[Dale Tanski]

Could be... however I can't tell because it was very dark out except when the lightning was in gear.  Quarter size hail??? Yeks!

Dale