This blog entry will be different than most I've done before. I always use pictures as a major part of any entry. However, this time the story is the point. We didn't take any pictures when it got interesting. We were busy!
Sunday the weather was perfect. We got underway around 11 am. At the end of the channel into our marina, we can either turn left and go to Cape Lookout or right and go the the Neuse River and all of it's hidden anchorages. On the way out the channel, we decided to turn left and go to the Cape.
It was an absolutely perfect afternoon for casual sailing. We entered the ocean through Beaufort Inlet and found 10-13 knots of wind and sailed the entire afternoon on smooth waters and perfect winds. Late in the afternoon we anchored in the bight at the Cape, swam a while, ate supper and called it a day.
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| A vigorous sail |
When we swam yesterday, we noted that the bottom of the hull of Eureka had a layer of scum on the bottom and the prop had some barnacles growing on it. This isn't unusual because it had been nearly a year since we had hauled the boat and painted the bottom (a biannual event). So, Joe put on his scuba gear and the two of us worked on the bottom the rest of the day.
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| The prop was encrusted with barnacles. |
Overnight, we both noted that the wind had increased. The forecasts, which are notably unreliable for wind speeds (usually underestimated) was calling for up to 30 knots of wind Tuesday afternoon and the chances of rain were increasing Tuesday night and Wednesday.
We had planned to stay out until Wednesday when Joe had to get back for a planned trip on Thursday.
So Tuesday morning, in our usual method of planning, we decided we'd head back toward Beaufort and tuck in behind Shackleford Banks for the night. No big deal. We'd be close to the marina if the weather turned bad on Wednesday and by leaving early Tuesday, we'd miss the predicted strong winds Tuesday afternoon.
We noted that the winds were already up to 22-25 knots, so we reefed both the main and jib about 50% to make the ride back to the inlet a little more comfortable. We knew that the seas would have built up quite a bit overnight with the Southwest wind.
As we came out of the bight into the ocean, we quickly found that the seas had built up quite substantially and the winds were a solid 25 knots. So about a quarter mile out, I decided to reef in the jib a little more. We were already beginning to heel 30-40 degrees and a little less sail would help reduce that.
In order to reef, we had to let the sheets (lines) out on the jib (the big sail on the bow) to release the pressure so as to be able to roll the sail in a little (the jib is on a roller furling).
In the rolling seas and strong wind, as soon as we release pressure on the sheets, the sheets (lines) and the sail are banging and slapping, making a tremendous racket. All of a sudden I hear a loud bang and see the jib sheet on the port (left) side pop in two pieces. This is not supposed to happen! I immediately check and see that one part of the sheet is hanging over the side of the boat and I can get to it. So I start to haul it back on the boat but it won't budge. It seems to be stuck to the bottom of the boat. The other end of the sheet is tied to the jib so I retrieve it and tie it off to a rail so it won't be banging around the deck.
But now, we don't have the capability of tacking because we don't have a sheet on the port side. Plus, we have a part of the sheet somehow stuck on the bottom of the boat.
We immediately turn around and head back to the safety of the bight to try and figure out what is happening.
As we are now motoring back to bight, we note that the engine seems to be running very rough. As RPM is increased, the whole boat is shaking. So we keep the RPM low, get back to the bight and drop the anchor.
We know we have to find out what is making the boat shake and we have to find out why the sheet is not coming up from the bottom of the boat. At this point, I'm thinking that somehow, the sheet has entangled in the prop and somehow, the prop is still turning, or the sheet has gotten caught on the prop and broken or bent one of the blades.
As soon as we put the engine in neutral, I tug on the sheet that is stuck underneath the boat and it comes up. So the sheet must have been somehow wrapped in the prop or shaft and dropped off when we put it in neutral, but that doesn't seem possible. If it had caught in the prop or shaft, it would have wrapped around it. Nothing made sense.
We get anchored in relatively calm waters inside the bight. Joe puts on his mask and snorkel as soon as we anchor and goes overboard to see if he can find the sheet and find out what is causing the shaking. He dives and comes back up and reports that nothing is wrong with the prop. There is no missing blade, no ropes or lines. Everything is normal.
At this time, I call Tow Boat US with whom we have towing insurance to let them know we may need assistance. I tell them that I think we can sail back to the Beaufort Inlet, but when we get there, we'll probably need assistance because of our engine vibration problem. They say they'll be there, just call when we're closer. (It's about a 7 mile sail back to the inlet and that could take an hour or two).
We have to start the engine and engage the transmission in order to get the anchor up, and now the engine seems to be running okay - no vibration. A total mystery.
So we up anchor and head out to the ocean again to sail back to the Beaufort Inlet. However, by now, the winds are beginning to increase.
For the next hour or so, with a now much reefed main and jib, we encounter the highest winds and largest waves that either of us has experienced on Eureka. The winds now stay between 25 and 30 knots and the seas are running around 8+ feet (NOAA radio calls them 6 foot seas, but I know different). We are taking water over the bow and into the cockpit, the rail is in the water most of the time, and we are being tossed around in the cockpit. At some points, I felt that the only way I was able to stay in the cockpit was because I was holding onto the wheel or braced across the cockpit. Joe and I relieve each other on the helm as the helmsman is fighting the helm constantly trying to keep the boat from broaching.
After an hour of seeing GPS speeds of 8+ knots (normally we see 5-6 knots), winds constantly increasing, and seas growing, and water flying over the bow, sliding down sides of wave, rails in the water and water gushing into the cockpit we finally get back to the Beaufort Inlet.
It surprises me how much a couple of knots of wind makes on the handling of the boat and the power it exerts on the sails. I can tell the difference in 27 knots and 28 knots just by how much the boat heels and how much water is coming over the side. The times we saw 30 knots, it just seemed like all we could do was hang on and hope it dropped back to 28 or 29 quickly.
We have run the engine the entire time to help stabilize the boat, so we now are confident that we won't be needing a tow and call Tow Boat and let them know.
During this entire trip, Joe and I probably exchange only a half dozen comments. We are both mesmerized by the seas, and wondering what could go wrong. If anything further had gone wrong while we were in these seas, there wasn't much chance we could do anything about it. We certainly couldn't maneuver to get below deck and we sure couldn't get up on the foredeck. We just hoped nothing else happened, and thankfully it didn't.
As we were coming in the inlet, I informed Joe, that I wasn't interested in anchoring behind Shackleford tonight. I was ready to take Eureka back to the slip. There was no argument from him. The sail had been memorable, but not one that I would choose to continue today or repeat any day.
As we motor sail back North to our slip, I begin to get concerned about how we're going to get into our slip. Obviously we have done this hundreds of times, but never with a 25 knot tailwind. As we come in the channel and approach the slip, the boat doesn't slow down when I pull the power back. We are heading toward expensive boats and a seawall. I continually had to apply lots of power to slow the boat while trying to keep the boat heading in the right direction.
After a lot of reverse thrust and getting the bow on the correct side of the piling, we are able to get the lines secured and are safely back.
Joe and I are exhausted and collapse below deck, opened a beer and didn't speak for quite a while. We were both totally awed by the mental and physical challenges we had overcome.
Shortly, after a couple more beers, we started recalling what had happened. We both questioned why we had decided that we had to get back today - we could have easily spent another night and hoped conditions improved.
Then we both questioned why we didn't think to put on life vests. It would certainly have been prudent to have done so, although I'm not sure how we would have gotten to them as they are in the salon. And neither of us felt we could have maneuvered below deck to get them.
As I sat there drinking beer, I still could not figure out what had happened to the port sheet that had gone in the water and obviously got caught up in the propeller shaft. Then it dawned on me that the 2 lines that we recovered from the port side that had parted was much shorter than the line on the starboard side. We went to the cockpit and measured, and sure enough, there were several feet missing from the port line.
From this we speculate that the port line must have broken twice and a part of the line somehow got wrapped on the propeller shaft and when we had put the boat in neutral while anchoring at the Cape, the line had somehow come off and dropped to the bottom of the ocean.
It really doesn't make sense that this could have happened, but it's the only explanation we've come up with.
After another beer or so, we started putting the boat back together and assessing the damages (none). We ended up spending a good part of the afternoon just cleaning the boat and piddling, probably just working off the nervous energy.
In retrospect, this was a great adventure. I've always said that the boat could handle a lot rougher seas than we, the crew could. I think we've definitely proved it. The boat did great. The crew not so good.
I know I'm not interested in going out again when the winds are over 25 knots (maybe 22 knots will be enough).
We may have made a bad decision to come back Tuesday, but the forecast for higher winds AND RAIN for Wednesday seemed to be the poorer option. As it turned out, Wednesday was windy and rainy, so we would have had the winds with the additional misery of a driving rain.
Eureka under sail on a much calmer day.
