Surprise Stay

After an afternoon of sailing and one failed attempt to dock at the very crwoded Cunningham's Creekside (a restaurant off of Harrod's Creek around Prospect, Ky), my wife (Linda) and I decided that it would be a lovely night to grab a pizza, eat on the boat, and spend a night on the water.

This was not done without some preparation.  We had to run by Wal-Mart to get a red/green bow light (mine is not currently connected which should be fixed soon), as well as some water for the boat.  But soon that was done, we had our pizza (Linda got wings), and we were heading out across the Ohio to a little cove that one of our dock neighbors (really nice older guy with a beard and tattoos who sails a Venture 19 I believe) had recommended.  The view was beautiful and the reflection of the full moon on the water was really something else.

We eventually got anchored (my anchor line was too short so we had to anchor close to shore...not a big problem for a light swing keel like a Mac 25) and settled down to dinner.  The pizza was a little cold, but we were glad to have it.  Linda's wings were pretty warm, and she was generous enough to share a couple with me.  All in all, we were both quite pleased: our little cabin made for a cozy little dinner spot.

Then, we settled down in the V-berth for a little late night movie (Forrest Gump).  While we passed off the ipad to one another, Linda had a stroke of genius: maybe we could mount the ipad if we opened the forward hatch just right.  Sure enough, it worked!  It was light having a proper TV!

Eventually, Linda went to sleep and I retired to the cockpit.  Even later, I finally gave it up: I lowered the table, converted the sitting area into another berth.  I laid down to the gentle (almost nonexistent) rocking of the waves.

What I didn't expect was the constant- constant-  CONSTANT buzzing of, you guessed it: mosquitos.  Every second one would buzz by.  I'd wait for it to land, kill it, then another would come by.  It was endless.  After a couple hours of this, I heard Linda move.  I asked if she was getting any sleep.  She mostly wasn't.

I turned on the light.  Linda gets up, looks around at the number of mosquitos on the walls (it was not and inconsiderable number), and says "Let's go home." I had no issues with this request.  We went back to the dock, tied up, and were in our own beds by 3.

It wasn't a great ending, but it wasn't a wasted night: our dinner was lovely, and it was great to be out on the water in such beautiful conditions.  All in all, this was another learning experience.

Overnight Boating Lesson #1: Prepare to keep out mosquitos and other insects

We are campers and are used to this one, but usually you can duck in the tent when it's real bad.  But with a boat, that boat is both your campground and your sleeping area.  It's already been exposed to the mosquitos and insects, unlike a tent where you just crawl in to finally get some shut eye.

Next time, we will be ready: citronella candles and mosquito netting will be the order of the day.

Flash Flood.

It rained. 

Thank GOD the folks at Juniper Beach told me to turn my bow toward the creek and not the river (they had told me the opposite earlier, but  I am still very grateful).  I don't know if my dock lines could have held if all that rushing water had been pressing against a flat stern.

Can you imagine all this water pushing on the transom of the boat? 

 

 

Lesson #1: Leave your boat facing upstream when tied up on a creek.

 

You wouldn't believe how this little O'Day was writhing and rolling against the current.  She made it through the flash flood okay, but ended up coming down on top of the vertical 4x4s on the dock.  No damage, from what I can tell.

 

 

Can you imagine how this would have gone if I hadn't fixed that hose in the drain?!

Lesson #2: Always fix what you can as soon as you can

Since then, the water level has just kept going up.  I believe it's almost to 18 feet now.  My boat is safe at a floating dock, but more on that later!

 

Cheers!



 



WHY IS MY BOAT FULL OF WATER?!!

First of all: My boat is fine now.  Let's just get that part out of the way. 


After my buddy came up from South Carolina, I got really busy and I wasn't on the boat for a couple of weeks.  A couple of very rainy weeks.  Which is whatever.  The cockpit drains out the back of the boat so no worries there.  And the river didn't rise enough for me to have to adjust the dock lines so I'm good there too.

Yet, when I came back to my boat and opened the cover to the companionway, I was greeted with the sound of sloshing, and I saw waves on the floor... On the floor?  Yep, my cabin was full of water.  Well, not full.  But it was about 3" of water towards the companionway.

Why? I wondered.  Maybe the companionway wasn't closed enough?  Maybe the keel bolt was leaking?  It was probably just the rain, I decided.  Or it probably would have more water in it.

Well, I set my pump to work.  Came back shortly, and it was still pumping.  Wow, I thought, the bilge must be bigger than I thought!  So the next time I left it pumping all night.  When I checked on it the next morning,  it was still pumping.

Not only was it still pumping, but the water level was exactly the same. That's when I figured out what the problem must be: the cockpit drain. 

You see, the bilge is set up to pump into the cockpit, which drains outside of the boat.  But if something were wrong with that drain, it would leak right back inside and you'd end up endlessly pumping the same water in a vicious cycle.  The water level would stay the same.

I did some research (because the instructions for the Mac 25 are so bare bones, they are not very helpful) and found out that the drain leads to a hose...then that hose leads to a through-hole in the transom.  Surely, I reasoned, the hose must have come loose.  That must be it.

Thus, I began the exhausting process of removing the foam, wallowing around in bilgewater, opening up access to the transom under the seats, squeezing in said area (no easy task...I'm not a small man), and then inspecting the hose.

Long story short: I was right.  Boy was it a task to replace the thing.  I had a little help from a fellow sailor with getting the thing reattached, but the honor of wallowing around in the bilgewater (also full of anchor chain rust) and crawling into the dark to contort into a proper shape for actually working in there was mine.

But I got it done!  And I feel pretty good about diagnosing my first big boat issue- and about fixing it (mostly) on my own.  After all, what sailor is worth his salt if he can't take care of his boat?

Hopefully it will be smooth sailing for at least another good spell.

Cheers!

PS: Wish I had taken some pictures.  I might try and find some or stage some similar ones, idk.

First Race, OR: 2/2 is Still Second Place

 

 

Some of you may or may not remember that I got invited to join the crew of a 36 ft S2 11.0 for the Wednesday races at my local yacht club (thanks to the local crew bucket listing).  The boat is owned by a really nice couple (whose names I won't include since I haven't asked their permission), and I had been looking forward to competing.

 

Well, that first Wednesday race finally came.

 

We left early to get me used to handling the lines on a larger boat, tacking back and forth up and down the Ohio for a bit.  We were the first boat out. 

 

 

 

Then, the committee boat came out- I was told it must be the committee boat because they were anchored.  Though I wasn't sure what committee was for a moment, I collected that committee boat = judges boat.  So, this was the boat where everyone recorded times and observed the race.

 

We were in the last class, Spinnaker A I believe.  I was pleased to hear that there was only one other boat in this class, which meant we got 2nd place no matter what.  I figured that would be great, as it would sound great when I bragged about it on my blog/ fb.  I didn't have to mention that there were only two boats (though I guess I kind of blew that just now...ah well).

 

The other classes (Lower classes, I asserted airily, nose held high) and entrants began to flood out of the marina (almost all of them from Limestone Bay) in a neat little unplanned line.  I smiled as sail after sail appeared out of the mouth of the inlet.  It was more sailboats than I had ever seen, really.  It was quite the sight, to the eyes of someone new like me.

 

 

On they went, until it was finally time for our class.  The other boat in our class went racing ahead, heeling over probably 25 degrees...then more...then more...which was starting to concern us because they were getting very close to the committee boat.  They were rounding the committee boat to make it to the starting line, but boy were they cutting it close. 

 

Steer away...steer away...steer away! But as they rounded the stern of the committee boat, so to did they heel even further.  So far that, apparently to me, the rudder was not biting.  And they were not easing the sheets, either.  I was amused but not entirely surprised to hear a loud THUD come form their direction.  The small heeling boat had hit the committee boat!  Not only had a collision occurred, but they hit the judges!  Ha ha! 

Oh, pipe down, everyone was fine, I'm not that big of a jerk for laughing!

 

I also might not should have laughed, because they beat us pretty bad. Up to the mark we went, making one more tack than we would have liked, back round we came...and finally we crossed the finish line.  But not before we had lost most of the wind that blew so nicely earlier. 

 

 

It was interesting to see how the strategy of tacking and timing your tacks so that you angle past the buoy correctly  came into play in the real world, and to crew such a nice, big boat.  And the company was enjoyable, as always.

 

But when it was all said and done, we came in last place.  Which is to say we finished second!  Either way you look at it, it was a pretty great day, and I had my first race behind me. 

 

Prepare to Repel Boarders!

Okay, so I probably won't be repelling any boarders.  Or boarding any other boats.  But I thought it would be cool to hang my own saber (well technically it's a 1850 Staff & Field Officer's Sword...wrong era and even country but it looks good) in my own Surprise.  Just like in this Surprise:

 

It's not sharp or anything, but it looks cool and adds +5 modifier when channeling my inner Jack Aubrey.

 

Because what's life if you can't have fun with it? ;)

She Has a Name

My boat has a name now.  My lettering finally came in (got mine for 26 bucks from do it yourself lettering) and I applied it last night.

I have named her the Surprise, both because it was such a shock that I was given the boat and because it was Jack Aubrey's favorite command (in the books and the movie too).

Hit a Tree...

NOTE: This was last Wednesday, I think

14 MPH winds + 20 MPH gusts.  It sounded like a blast

I can't hardly wait to get out on the water.  The trees are rustling and, while I'm sure I won't be able to use all 150% of my Genoa, the wind is blowing and we are gonna be MOVING.

I start the motor, and we head out of the creek to the Ohio.  But you know what?  The wind pushes boats pretty hard.  Which is fine.  I'm used to powering a boat around in the wind.  But it turns out a 25' MacGregor/Venture does not handle like a 26' Chaparral deck boat.  This fact will shock no one but me-from-4-days-ago. 

The wind takes the boat and all H-E-Double-hockey-sticks breaks loose.  The bow starts turning to port (toward the trees), so I have to up the power on the outboard (which, also-not-shockingly...isn't as responsive as the giant mercury inboard on my dad's Chaparral).  Which was good, because a Bass boat was coming down the stream right toward us.  I ask about the fishing, he responds enthusiastically, and I turn back around abruptly because dodging this boat has put us on a path toward the low-lying branch...on the WRONG size of where it is cut off.

So, I back the motor and slow down.  Gonna have to adjust and try it again.  No big deal.  Better than to hit it with the mast trying to save face.

I cut the motor back around and put it in forward- as fast as I can because the bow is being pushed back again and we are very swiftly heading toward the bank.  I power up, but the motor doesn't want to stay down!  It's not pushing!  The man in the Bass boat very helpfully asks if it has a lock.  It does, but I already locked it down so this is quite baffling. 

I figure it couldn't be anything else so I adjust it again, just in time to miss- no wait, I meant to say hit- a big cut off trunk sticking out of the bank.  It strikes the bow on the port side just as I get the motor locked down (again...I've now figured out that it can vibrate loose).  This, after a frenzied minute or so of my wife frantically (well, frantically for her...she's a pretty cool customer most of the time...less so while pregnant) updating me about the location of our boat relative to said tree and bank.

But anyway, I hit it.  It was fine.  There's a teensy little scratch, but you wouldn't even notice it.  Right after, I maneuvered us back and away and then (outboard at full power) pushed our bow back toward the Ohio river.  The boat was fine, but my pride was wounded (seriously, why did it have to be in front of the only other sailor there? Lol).

Still and all, we got out onto the Ohio and hoisted sail.  That didn't turn out too well either.  We heeled that way, and heeled this way, almost always having to go right back into the wind.  And all the while my wife is getting frustrated and crying (she had been pretty emotionally stable- especially for being pregnant- until today...but it had been a long day) and we just aren't getting the headsail situated fast enough to do anything right.

I gave up.  I took down our sails, motored us back, and docked...only to find out that I was in the wrong spot (the wrong slip number was on the form I signed).  So I moved and docked again- and AGAIN (wrong place the second time)- and finally made everything ship shape and left.

WHEW!

Lesson of the day: little outboards need a lot of power to overcome the wind sometimes; the wing nut that locks down the motor mount can jiggle loose.  Keep tightening it!