Tradewinds Sailing Blog

Some time back, the Cal 40 Chaparral carried her crew to the ancient port of Paphos on the south western tip of Cyprus, where Aphrodite, goddess of beauty and passion, is said to have risen out of the foaming sea and floated ashore in a clam shell.

We found ourselves in Paphos on a bright morning with a fresh southerly blowing Chaparral into the old port, open to the S, SW. It was packed with vessels anchored bow and stern, riding in the chop.

We picked what seemed to be the best spot in the crowd, behind a ketch with a hard-shell dinghy tied alongside, and ahead of a large red sloop, and boats all around. Under the many watchful eyes of already anchored crew, we dropped our plow anchor off the bow and the Danforth off the stern, luckily providing little entertainment, and took our bearings from nearby landmarks.

The ketch ahead of us was named Renaissance and its dinghy Nuisance. I waved to the skipper and a woman, presumably his wife, and a small boy with a black dog. The red sloop astern of us, Tabasco, had several young men on board, drinking beer for breakfast.

After Chaparral had settled in, we pumped up the dinghy and set out to find the local harbormaster, check out the fuel dock, and forage for fresh victuals in town. Threading our way carefully, we rowed between boats that had sailed here from all over the world. The Full Tilt, Serendipity, Address Unknown, Vanira, Aeolis, and many others, huddled together at rest, each with a story to tell.

At the open air market, filling our shopping nets with potatoes, onions, apples, olives, some kind of sausage, and beautiful looking eggs, we felt a hot, dry wind building, coming from the SE now. We decided to save the rest of our shopping for the next day, after taking on fuel and water. This wind and its sudden gusts made our skipper uneasy and we hurried back to the anchorage, where small, steep waves were already running.

Soaking wet from the wild dinghy ride, but greatly relieved to see Chaparral dancing up and down – she hadn’t moved – we noticed the Renaissance had dragged. She was still ahead of us, but closer and more off to the side. We let out chain at the bow, hauled in line at the stern, to drop back from her.

By late afternoon, the wind had increased to about force 7, frequently gusting higher. We watched our position and the boats around us, so far so good. When the wind took a breather and slowed, I decided to make an early dinner. Just as I was breaking some of the eggs into the skillet, our skipper called all hands on deck. The Renaissance was dragging, again, and coming straight at us, but her crew was on board.

We jumped to hang all fenders to port. With the roar of their engine at full throttle and a big exhaust cloud rising, mother and boy furiously hauled in rode at the bow, while the skipper eased a lot at the stern. As soon as their bow anchor was free in the water, the wind blew them sideways and even closer to us. The Renaissance‘s  skipper screamed for his crew to leave the bow anchor dangling, get back, now, and deal with the stern anchor. The dog was running back and forth, barking, snarling, ready to attack, ignoring his yelling master’s threatening commands.

We could do nothing but brace for impact and fend off, but shouted “back!”, anyway. Instead, the skipper opened throttle, lurched forward spinning the wheel to port, barely missing our bow, but ramming his stern into our side. All our fenders, and breaking the rule of never using any body parts to separate a heavy boat from an obstruction, saved us from serious damage.

The Renaissance had its stern anchor down and couldn’t get it up. The skipper sent his son into the Nuisance, un-cleated the stern anchor rode and handed it to the boy to hold it tight. Then he drove off full throttle downwind, with the dog howling at the boy, tossing up and down in the dinghy. The mother stood frozen. In the wake of Renaissance, the boy tied the rode to the dinghy painter and watched his world leave him behind.

Still dangling its bow anchor, the Renaissance cut too close to the Tabasco, snaring their bow anchor chain. The quick thinking Tabasco crew tied a fender to their stern rode, let it go and hauled up the bow anchor hard, to free it and get away. With a clear path, the Renaissance now drove over the chain of the Vanira, hooked it with the dangling bow anchor and, going great guns, picked up Serendipity’s rode as well, making, in short order, a fine mess of tangled ground tackle and ripped out anchors.

There was shouting, loud engine roar, and grinding and cracking of fiberglass from the dragging clump of boats. It took a long time to sort things out before they all could re-anchor, with the innocent victims keeping as far away as possible from the menacing Renaissance.

We were getting ready to row our dinghy over to the boy, who was crying and dangerously swamped with waves, when the Tabascos, after re-anchoring further down, came in their dinghy to retrieve their floated stern anchor. We hailed them, pointed to the boy and they drove over and took him on board. Shortly after, the Nuisance turtled, but held fast the Renaissance’s stern anchor rode.

With the wind blowing, and feeling like we had been spared, we kept checking our bearings, still good, ate our well-deserved dinner, best eggs in a long time, and made a list of what not to forget on shore the next morning. I had my heart set on some of those fresh anchovies I saw in the market. Then, the wind fury returned. Surely, it wouldn’t rage like that all night long? But if it did, it was good to know that our anchors had held through the blow in the afternoon. We assigned anchor watch and quietly turned in.

At 0230, with a carpet of stars shining brightly above, the untiring wind picked up speed, screeching gusts came stronger, and Chaparral started to drag, jolting us on deck. With so much excitement earlier, nobody had noticed that the dangling bow anchor of the  Renaissance charging at us had gone under our chain, messing with our well-settled plow anchor, too.

Our skipper said: “Let’s get out of here.” We brought in our anchors faster than ever and pointed Chaparral out to the open sea. We would be safer out there, away from grounding land and tight anchorages. We would catch rain for fresh water and find fuel and anchovies on the Island of Rhodes, if the wind would blow us there. The sea was foaming, but Aphrodite and her clam shell were nowhere in sight.

My last tip How Fast is TOO FAST! In a Fairway? got me thinking about fairway turns.  As an instructor, I can honestly say teaching this skill causes me to experience more “stomach muscle tightening” than any other skill I teach.  Which is interesting, I enjoy practicing them.

Here are a few of the “techniques” I have seen that cause my “stomach muscles to tighten.”

• Accelerating into a fairway turn.  Generally the reason for a fairway turn is a boat unexpectedly backing out in front of you.  I don’t know about you, but accelerating toward danger just seems wrong.  Also, any acceleration in forward is going to require and equal and opposite acceleration in reverse to offset it, which leads to the next problem.
• High amounts of throttle.  Generally speaking, a fairway turn doesn’t require a great deal of throttle.  Just enough to hold the boat in position against momentum and wind.  The only time a lot of throttle is “needed” is if too much throttle was used during the last transmission shift.
• Slamming the transmission back and forth rapidly and at high throttle.  The goal of a fairway turn is to turn the boat around while staying in the same location.  Rapid  shifting and high throttle settings cause the boat to move … exactly the opposite of what you are trying to accomplish.
• Trying to “finish” off the fairway turn on the leeward side of the fairway.  Your goal should be to remain as far upwind in the fairway as you can!  Trying to transition out of the fairway turn and into forward while on the lee side of the fairway allows the wind to blow your boat down onto the boats that are there.
• Too close to the port side of the fairway.  Assuming port prop walk, it’s normal to start from the port side of the fairway and turn to starboard.  As the bow moves to starboard, the stern moves to port and hits the boat or dock finger behind the boat.  Start with enough room to  allow the stern to swing.
• “Downwind” fairway turns.  On a boat with port prop walk, it is natural to do a fairway turn to starboard.  A problem may arise when the wind is blowing from port to starboard.  Momentum and wind are both pushing you to the lee side of the fairway.  Right were you don’t want to be.  All is probably going to be ok if you are on the windward side of the fairway, and provided you shift into reverse early enough, with just enough throttle to overcome momentum and wind, and assuming you didn’t accelerate into the turn.  That’s a lot of “ifs.”  Sometimes its easier to do the fairway turn to windward, even if it’s opposite the direction prop walk wants to take you.  Please don’t try this without first practicing the maneuver in a safe area.  Not all boats will do it well.

With the down side in mind, here are a couple of thoughts on a “better way” to do a fairway turn.

• As with most things in sailing, if you didn’t think about it 10 minutes ago, you waited too long.  Know what you are going to do before you actually need to do it.  Plan ahead.  As you turn into the fairway, set up L.O.T. for your docking and have a backup L.O.T. for a fairway turn if it is needed.  It’s too late to plan that boat backs out of the slip at you.
• Where in the fairway do you need to be to approach your slip?  Will that location work for a fairway turn?  If not, how are you going to get into a location that will work if one is needed?
• Know the boat you are on.  Will it do a fairway turn to windward opposite prop walk?  How does it handle a downwind fairway turn.
• Your goal is to turn the boat around, while holding position.  Use only enough throttle to accomplish that goal.
• Let the boat do the work.  If you are exhausted at the end of the maneuver, you are working way too hard at it.
• Watch the stern more than the bow … you can see it better and chances are it is closer to obstacles anyway.
• Practice, practice, practice.  As anyone who does boat checkouts with me can attest.  I take the wheel in almost every checkout and do a fairway turn or two.  Often times I will stop the fairway turn after 90 degrees and try to get the stern as close to an upwind mooring ball as possible.  Its a great way to practice fairway turns and staying to the windward side of the fairway.

I took a walk on the docks yesterday afternoon and experienced something I haven’t felt in about a year. A warm wind coming out of the North. It reminded me that summer is over, and some of the “close quarters” docking and motoring techniques I have relied on all summer might now get me into trouble. Actually, it’s not the techniques themselves, more the fact that techniques need to be adjusted for conditions. This was reinforced this morning, when we again had wind from the North. This time, I watched an experienced skipper back out of a slip and nearly get driven by the wind into a boat on the far side of the fairway. All summer he had been backing into a wind.  This time, he was backing with the wind and failed to adjust his LOT. Made me think … maybe it’s time for a quick refresher on LOT.  Always start by checking conditions … wind … boat location … obstacles … dock lines … etc.

Location … draw an imaginary line down the middle of the fairway and try to place the boat on the windward side of that line. In the case of today, the skipper would have needed to make the turn.

Orientation … generally, it’s a good idea to get the bow pointed slightly to windward. That way, while the boat is transitioning from “backwards to frontwards” momentum, the wind will tend to straighten the boat out.

Transition … what are the steps to follow to go from “backwards to frontwards?” It might look like this
• Go to neutral
• Straighten the rudder
• Shift to forward at low RPM to stop the boat and let the bow “blow down”
• Throttle up to a safe fairway speed

Most years, there are four to six weeks of unbelievable San Francisco Bay weather between the “first storm” of the fall, and the onset of winter storms. We typically see the first storm right about the last week of September. It came through last week. The winter storms begin to hit about the middle of November. In between, the sailing is phenomenal! There is enough breeze to have a great time and its warm enough for shirt sleeves (sometimes less).

Get out there and enjoy this very fleeting time of San Francisco Bay sailing! Just remember to adjust your “close quarters skills” for the actual conditions, not what we have experienced all summer.

Under the U.S. Inland Navigation Rule 20 [c] and 20 [d] anchored vessels more than 23 ft. in length are required to display appropriate lights and shapes where they can best be seen to avoid collisions.

From sunset to sunrise, or in restricted visibility, they must display a white light that is visible in all directions. During the day they must display a black ball day shape, unless anchored in a designated “Special Anchorage Area”.

My friend Salty Clay says that the white anchor light on top of the mast is a common sight in an anchorage. But how many mariners hoist their black ball day shape in anchorages or mooring fields? Not that many.

He also points out that a “Special Anchorage Area” is not just the spot shown on the chart labeled “Anchorage”. It is an area specifically designated by the Secretary of Homeland Security. Not many such special places exist. They can be looked up in The Code of Federal Regulations. Title 33 “Navigation and Navigable Waters.” Part 110. “Anchorage Regulations” at www.access.gpo.gov

With lots of room at an anchorage, the preferred way to drop the hook is at the bow with plenty of scope. Other anchoring methods include:

Setting two anchors off the bow with about a 45 to 60 degree angle between them offers more security against dragging and swinging. It is a good way to prepare for an oncoming storm.

Setting a bow and stern anchor may be necessary at crowded or narrow anchorages. This method usually keeps boats in a tidy pattern and prevents them from sailing around their anchor.

Setting up a Bahamian Moor lets the boat pivot around one single point, keeping it in one place when wind or currents shift. To set up a Bahamian Moor, anchor bow and stern first, then lead the stern anchor rode to the bow and cleat it.

Mediterranean Mooring is most common along seawalls and quays. It usually requires dropping the bow anchor several boat lengths away from the quay and backing up to it in a cross wind, holding your breath while squeezing in sardine-tight between other med moored vessels. Have plenty of fenders handy.

Rafting up is a common way to secure several boats with only one anchor down. It is done mostly to spend time and party with friends, or to keep the fishing fleet together so it can head out quickly at sunrise, or to form rows of parked boats when all the med moors are packed at the quay. Generally, the biggest boat with the biggest anchor holds everyone else, who are tied up at bow and stern cleats to either side. Be careful to stagger spreaders and be sure to use all available fenders and cushions between the boats.

From decades of experience with every anchoring adventure imaginable, Tradewinds, together with Lead Instructor Captain Craig Walker, has developed its own anchoring technique. No guarantees, but practicing it will greatly increase the chance of getting it right every time and in a safe way.

Here is the handout that Tradewinds uses:

Anchoring Technique Page 2 of Anchoring Confirmation

Whether you have selected the perfect spot in a secluded bay or arrived at the end of the day at a popular, packed anchorage, the next challenge is to successfully park the boat so it stays put.

Prepare the anchor to move freely over the bow roller and if the rode is rope it can be faked on deck, laying it out in long loops, to the length of the desired scope. Secure it on a bow cleat, and check that the bitter end is tied off. Make sure it can be released quickly if necessary.

If it is all chain in the anchor locker, the windlass usually controls the chain as it pays out. Check that the end of the chain is secured somewhere in the anchor locker and make sure it can be released quickly if necessary.

My friend Salty Clay says that to look good while anchoring, decide on hand signals with your crew to communicate between bow and helm. No yelling back and forth. If there are enough hands on deck, assign a “parrot” at the shrouds to relay directions and information, if words are necessary, keeping voices low. Directions should always come from the helm. The bow crew passes information back to the helm, to help the skipper make decisions.

You don’t want to be slipping on the deck of a boat. At best, you look the fool. At worst, you’re in the drink. And in between, there’s a bunch of stuff to knock your head or bruise your backside on. Believe it or not, the best thing to do, although they deny this in all the sailing books, is to go barefoot. Bare feet have something even the most advanced sailing footwear can’t provide: nerve endings. When you step on a slippery surface in your bare feet, you can tell before you fall that you have no traction. This is better than finding out when you’re fanny-over-teakettle. “Crivens! That was slippery!” Of course, when sailing barefoot there will be the occasional broken toe when your naked foot encounters a cleat or block, but everything’s a compromise.

That’s fine for the tropics, but in the extra-tropics where we are, I’m not man enough to go barefoot. Cold feet are one thing when you’re about to get married, but quite another when your actual feet are cold. So San Francisco sailors wear stuff on their feet. Typically, this is a sailing boot that is tall and made out of some rubber-like product. They are hard to get on and off, cold, and clammy.

But I always wonder why people really need that height. How many times on a sail around the Bay have you had ten inches of water in the cockpit? Okay, now cut that out! It is possible for the waves to climb up your leg in an impertinent way if you are sitting on the rail on a windy day. But my solution to this is to advance my position in the crew beyond rail meat.

So in the winter or wet weather I wear duck boots. L.L. Bean, I believe, originated them, but there are lots of knock-offs and they come in a variety of styles and heights. They lace up so you can adjust them to just the perfect tightness. You can buy them lined with Thinsulate so they are nice and toasty. Should you find yourself swimming, it is possible to untie them and kick them off. The best thing is, their gum soles are as sticky as any boat shoe you can buy—even if they aren’t as secure as bare feet.

They may not be fashionable, I don’t know. Sometimes people laugh at me, but there could be other reasons for this.