Preventive Maintenance

July 9, 2016


As mentioned previously from July 8th,I noticed as I was furling the Genoa (actually, after I was safely back in the slip) that the furling line had a serious chafe in it, as pictured below:


I could just envision myself having another challenging time with a quick build of windspeed and having the line snap, then I would have been unable to furl the sail at all.  That idea was really unappealing.  So, after several trips to Lowes the purchase from which just didn’t feel right as I furled the Genoa, and two to West Marine, I installed the new furling line.  Of course, if the line from Lowes had worked, I would have paid only $8.99; the proper line from West Marine cost about $36.00, but it was definitely the proper line.


I think it was a wise purchase.

Could Have Made a Better Choice Coming In

July 8, 2016


Yep.  Heaving to would have been the right choice — if I could have kept all of my head about it.


As I started out, I raised the main before leaving the breakwater then headed out from the marina with very few people out there.  That all went smoothly, and because the wind was light, I raised the full main and deployed the full Genoa.  The wind picked up just enough for me to have some fun sailing back and forth across the river.  Shortly after I left, Auk left the marina and motored toward the bridge.  I considered a few times sailing there as well, but also remembered the one time my wife and I did that and it wasn’t pleasant — far too many powerboats play around the bridge and I didn’t relish having to deal with the wake and proximity to the bridge pilings at the same time.  It just looked like a recipe for disaster.  I’m sure that was the I right decision.  After all, Auk is about 38 feet long, and probably outweighs me by 4 to 8 times, so they can handle a lot more wave action than Ilya can.


Another good decision was to simply sail back and forth, rather than being drawn by the bay, though I did change that decision eventually.  As the wind built, I hunkered down and got as high as 5.8 knots, which is only 6.43 miles an hour, and I also tested myself to heel more and more.  Eventually, I decided to start going in at the last tack, nearing the helicopter area of the base near the river.  But as the heeling got too severe, nothing I could do with the Genoa worked, and it kept flapping out of control.  I quickly decided to reel it in rather than what I probably should have done, which was to heave to and settle the boat down.  That would have allowed me to then lower the main with the Genoa shielding it from what was about 13 mph winds, and waves up to around 3 feet.  Instead, I deployed Hercules, used the self-steering device and very painstakingly lowered the main by pulling on the bottom of the sail.  I was able to get enough of the main down to motor in, but even the small bit of sail that was still up made motoring very slow and scary.  I kept my head enough to eventually get in and thankfully, once within the breakwater the water calmed as did the wind.


What really surprised me was that one of the old Coast Guard boats was out with me and didn’t seem bothered at all, while another was heading out while I was coming in!  Are these people crazy?


I was somewhat satisfied that the one out with me came back in right after me, so perhaps I wasn’t as much a scaredy-cat as I thought was.


Tying up at the slip was simple, though I perhaps should have followed the example of the other Coast Guard boat and flake my main more carefully.  That’s tough to do alone, but not impossible, so I think I need to do that.  Something I definitely need to do is replace the furling line: some chafe has damaged it and the last thing I want is to be unable to furl the Genoa in high winds.




Engine                         20 minutes

Sails                             Full

Chop/ current              Mild, then very challenging

Wind                           Light like less than 4 mph to 13

Time                            4 hours

Timing is Everything

July 6, 2016


Got to the marina and was able to raise the main before leaving West Basin.  I also noticed a young guy taking Bay Break out as well.  That’s the boat that I just noticed a couple of weeks ago and is new at the marina, though the only time I saw them out was with three people rather than one.  I noticed that he was at full main, while I was still reefed.  We both headed out generally toward the bay, but I was trying to sail at a beam or close reach: he seemed to be close hauled.  And not only that, but he was just smoking me in getting out to the bay.


Eventually, I shook out my reef and deployed my full Genoa, and made better progress.  It was really fun, and I thought I might turn back at around 6:15, but I was having so much fun and making good progress, I stayed through about 6:30, even though Bay Break and another sailboat had already turned around.


That turned out to be the right decision on their part, since somewhere near the marker for Drum Point, the wind died.  This was during the Wednesday night races in the river which I was concerned I would interfere with, but that certainly didn’t happen.  I did try to change direction and sail back but to no avail, so I lowered the sails, closed almost everything up and motored about 30 minutes back in.  When I got there, Bay Break had already been tied up.


I wonder how he knew when to turn back?


Engine                         30 minutes

Sails                             Full, starting with one reef

Chop/ current              Mild

Wind                           Light, then none

Time                            4 hours

Necessity is the Mother….

July 3,2016


The marina wasn’t so much fun today, since the wind was non-existent.  So, the sailing itself just wasn’t going to happen.  But that wasn’t exactly the focus of today anyway.  I read with interest an article in Small Craft Advisor about a do-it-yourself Tiller Tamer.  Given that I’ve been using a surgical cord and rope self-steering device for four years, I was never likely to buy a Tiller Tamer or the one I prefer, the Tiller Clutch.


My original self-steering device was based on the one illustrated in Andrew Evans’ Thoughts, Tips, Techniques & Tactics For Singlehanded Sailing, Third Edition, though my surgical tubing had finally worn out.  I’ve secured new surgical tubing, but the article in Small Craft Advisor. intrigued me.  Instead of having the cord wrapped around the tiller, they employed a jam cleat on the underside of the tiller.  A quick review of West Marine’s website found the device and it is on its way, but I didn’t feel like waiting, so I used the info and picture at this webpage:


to construct a temporary device for the tiller.  It shows a picture of a rather simple and clunky looking double jam cleat that looks a bit like a clothes pin or blocky deck cleat.  It seemed simple enough to make so I gave it a try, using of course all the wrong tools (and probably the wrong techniques as well.)


Here is a picture of the device installed on the tiller with cable ties:

Close up of homemade jamcleatSSee


It’s not pretty, but I remember something my father once said about professional photographers.  He was just getting into photography at that time, and commented to me that unlike amateur photographers, pros may be a bit rougher with their equipment, treating their cameras more as tools than as fragile works of art.  So, I don’t exactly feel bad that my little block doesn’t look that nice.  It seems to work (even though there was only a very slight wind) and I can see how I can make it a bit tighter by changing the location of the knots tying the surgical tubing the regular cord.  I now have a device I can use if I need a backup once I get the jam cleat from West Marine.


Not a bad hour’s work.  Necessity is the Mother, they say….


Nice and Easy

June 30, 2016


Left work to head out to the marina, hoping that the weather wouldn’t prove to be much more than I expected.  As I was getting Ilya ready to go out, a huge trawler (at least that’s what I thought it was), turned into the fairway and sought to hook up onto B Dock.  This thing had to be about 35-40 feet long, and was about 15 feet high, one of those multiple deck boats that probably had a mileage rating of 5 nautical miles her gallon of fuel.  The family docking clearly new what they were doing, since I certainly couldn’t see how they were doing it.  Once they were mostly in their slip, I motored out after having to back up once because of a miscalculation.


I chose to raise the main in the basin rather than wait because I thought the current might make it tougher once I was past the breakwater.  I got out into the river and already determined that I wouldn’t go crazy and try to hit the bay — just wasn’t worth it.  Other boats were coming in and I was worried that maybe the lightning would come after all as the dark clouds seem to be following me.  One cool thing is that one of the boats on the E dock that I’ve never seen on the water — Phoenix — came out as well, but her captain sailed toward the bridge rather than toward the bay.  Maybe I’ll do that some other time.


I sailed off my usual way, and eventually unfurled the Genoa.  It took a few times to get the right amount out, but once I found that right amount, I got up to a maximum of 5.1 knots.  The first few times the wind picked up, I pulled in more of the sail or let out the sheets.  After a few times, I was able to deal with the healing and in fact stayed on the leeward side a few times when Ilya dug in.  I chose not to shake out the reef since it wasn’t worth it, however that does emphasize the need for a boomkicker to keep the mainsail up when I do shake out the reefs.


My back and forth was actually fun, and I was almost able to sail into the marina, but I thought the risks however slight of hitting the rocks wasn’t worth the risk.  This time, heaving to worked beautifully, and I motored into the marina easily, using less than a total hour on Hercules, in fact, probably only about a half hour.  Backing into the slip was smooth, which was good since the people in the huge trawler were watching me, or at least noticed me at one time.


A very nice short sail.


Engine                         smooth, less than one half hour of use

Chop/ current              moderate, up to 2 feet

Sails                             reefed main, slightly reefed Genoa

Time                             4 hours

Much More Like It

June 26, 2016


I was determined to get out on the water and actually move, rather than ghost along.  Mind you, ghosting is a valuable and worthwhile thing, but most of us accept and embrace the pace of sailing because there are times when we really are moving.  In the words of Newport Newbie from California, it is the “low speed adrenalin rush” that keeps us coming back.  I mean, where else does moving at 7 miles an hour get one to smile?  So after a less than satisfying time yesterday, I headed back to the marina for a late afternoon sail.


I started off okay, no bonehead moves getting out of the slip, and I decided to raise the main in the protected water of the marina just to save time and because I knew there would be a lot less wave action.  That proved to be the case and not long after going past the breakwater, I was able to shift to sail versus engine power.  While that didn’t last at a high speed forever, since I’ve become accustomed to ghosting, I wasn’t too annoyed.  As I headed a bit toward the bay, the wind picked up several times, and I clocked a maximum speed of 5.4 knots, before my GPS kept turning off — probably because it needed new batteries.  This really ticked me off because after about 20 minutes of ghosting, I was able to catch several breezes and move along very nicely.  Clearly I wasn’t going to get the bay today (I almost kissed it before deciding to head back in) but I decided that really wasn’t the point after all.  On the other hand, I decided to try to sail into the marina, which took me somewhat closer to the marina, though in the clutches of several powerboats.  After a few tacks, I decided I was as close as I was going to get, so I hove to to lower the main — and it didn’t work.  I don’t know what I did wrong, but as the wind was still turning things around, I chose to pull in the Genoa and lower the main as best I could before turning on Hercules and heading in.


Once past the breakwater, I lowered the main and backed into the slip with very few problems.


Definitely a better experience than the day before the definitely worth it.

Patience, Young Grasshopper

June 25, 2016


My wife and I went out again today.  I have decided that what she really wants in a boat, and I tend to think it would be a pontoon boat, which I have no interest in having or playing with.  I prefer to play with the wind in my little sailboat as challenging as that can be.  Today was no exception.  We exited the marina under what I thought was a decent though light wind — 5-6 mph, and raised the main easily once past the breakwater.  We saw another boat out in the same area as well, and I decided to kill the engine and just go.  The only problem was that we didn’t go, and that didn’t go lasted about a half hour until I decided to motor toward the bay, since I saw other boats actually sailing near there.  Of course, once we got near them, I noticed that two of the boats were flying spinnakers — not a good sign for a boat without one and trying to sail in the same area.  Having said that, I decided to use something I have little of — patience.


Patience allowed us to ghost through a pleasant thought not exciting back and forth across the river, with nice tacks.  I even think we were going as quickly as a couple of boats flying the kites, so I felt pretty good about that.


One silly thing:  I kept measuring the wind as we were motoring toward the bay and say pretty healthy numbers, peaking at 6.4 mph, but when we slowed the engine to take advantage of that, the wind dropped to only 2.4.


Can anybody say “apparent wind?”