San Diego: an egregious error
San Diego: an egregious error
GANNET was making 7.6 knots as I angled her toward the entrance to the Mission Bay channel at 2:15 on Wednesday. A lot was going to happen soon, some of which I had not done before, but I had a plan.
Once centered in the channel, I’d engage the tiller pilot to steer, then lower the main to reduce speed and give us more time. The tail of the halyard had already been removed from its cockpit bag and was free to run.
Mainsail secured to the boom by sail ties, I would bring up the outboard bracket from the cabin, slip it into the stern; then the Torqeedo--shaft, battery, tiller arm, pin to secure battery to shaft--onto the bracket. This was what I had never done before underway. Then two fenders on the starboard side and the bow dock line. I’d already put the stern dock line in place. Then furl the jib and proceed to the slip under Torqeedo.
Nothing wrong with the plan. I’d thought it through. But I was tired. More tired than I realized.
GANNET moved quickly between the breakwaters. I engaged the tiller pilot. Climbed onto the deck, released the halyard clutch. And nothing happened. GANNET’s fully battened mainsail is set on a Strong System track made by Tides Marine specifically designed to let the mainsail slide up and down in all conditions. I had the same system on THE HAWKE OF TUONELA and it never failed me. I went to the mast and pulled on the luff of the sail. Nothing. It was stuck.
GANNET was still sailing fast.
I returned to the cockpit, furled the jib instead, which didn’t slow us much.
Into the cabin and out repeatedly. Bracket and Torqeedo in place and assembled in probably world record time. I didn’t have time to worry about doing it.
Onto the foredeck to get the bow dock line onto its cleat. We were running out of channel. Fenders tied on.
Back to the Torqeedo, which I used to make the turn to port and then, where there was more room in the area off the entrance into Quivira Basin, I powered slowly into the wind, went to the mast, pulled, shook. Nothing. I circled and tried again. Nothing. The mainsail was not coming down.
I’ve sailed boats into slips before, with or without engines.
I headed into Quivira Basin, with the Torqeedo in neutral, sailing under mainsail with the sheet almost all the way out. A fully battened mainsail continues to have shape and power even when improperly trimmed. Usually this is desirable, but not when you are trying to slow down.
I sailed close to the bait barge, past a row of mildly interested pelicans and cormorants. Two sea lions raised their heads, lowered them, and closed their eyes.
From as far away as possible, I made the turn toward A Dock. The main was now out at a 90º angle to the boat, but still driving. We were moving faster than I wanted to, but I needed to concentrate on steering, not turn around and try to put the Torqeedo in reverse, which I don’t think would have helped much.
With the boom out that far, I had to keep away from the boats at the next dock. Only when I turned into the slip a boat length out would the main be luffing into the wind. As I know light GANNET doesn’t carry much way.
I turned. She went for the slip. I leapt onto the dock and grabbed her by the lifeline. Light boats are easy to stop. I did before her bow hit the dock. Walked forward, secured the bow line. Aft the stern line. Breathed the traditional sigh of relief.
With no longer any urgency, I climbed aboard and tried to get the mainsail down. I loosened the backstay, pulled on the luff, made sure the halyard wasn’t jammed at deck level, shook the mast. Nothing.
This was the first time I’d tried to lower the sail on the new mast. Something was obviously wrong; so I telephoned Kasey, the rigger.
I spelled his name with a ‘C’ until I saw it on the invoice emailed to me the evening before I sailed. That invoice was higher than I originally budgeted, but when I saw the number of hours of labor the men put in, not higher than I expected.
Of peculiar interest, but again not surprise to boat owners, is that the extras: packing, shipping, sales tax, rigger; equalled the price of the mast and boom themselves.
One of the reasons I do things sequentially.
Kasey said it sounded as though the halyard had come off the masthead sheave and jammed. He would come to the boat in about an hour.
I sorted out the cabin some and what I could on deck, then walked up to take a needed shower.
When I came out, I saw Kasey’s truck in the parking lot and my cell phone rang. It was Kasey saying he was at the boat.
A Dock is not directly in front of the gate. Down the ramp, a right turn, then a left, and ahead I could see that GANNET’s mainsail was no longer up.
Kasey was standing on the dock beside GANNET with lowered mainsail.
“What was the magic?” I asked.
He smiled and pointed at the deck to starboard of the mast. I understood instantly.
“Oh, my word!” (Or something like that.)
I had released the wrong halyard clutch.
Of course the main wouldn’t come down when the clutch was still engaged. A flip of a lever was all it took. The right lever.
Kasey was gracious about this. He said it wasn’t the first time he had seen it happen, and that he wouldn’t tell anyone.
I said that I would. Warts and all.
He did have to come by GANNET anyway to return a snatch block of mine he used to lower the old mast and raise the new one and carried off inadvertently with his lines.
That the mast is new is in no way mitigating. The halyards are the same as on the old mast and exit on the same sides as they did on the old mast. The main and spinnaker to starboard. The two jib halyards to port. The main halyard is red and yellow. Spinnaker blue. Jib halyards brown and red and blue and red.
I can think of three possible explanations.
I am stupid. I reject this one, but am open to evidence to the contrary.
I am getting senile. This might be true.
I was very tired. This is true. I’d had limited sleep for four nights and been awake since 3 a.m. But even so, how I could have prepared to lower the spare jib halyard on the port side of the mast rather than the main halyard to starboard is troubling.
Once in the channel, I had to act quickly, not ponder, and I did get GANNET safely into her slip.
But even then my mind remained unable to find the solution.
Kasey said it could happen to anyone.
But I am not anyone. At the two or three things I pride myself on doing well, I am not allowed to make mistakes. Not allowed by myself. I know I do make mistakes. Much of learning is correcting errors. But certain kinds of mistakes are not to be shrugged off, excused, accepted.
If I ever make this one again, it may be time for me to remain tied to the dock.
In the photo above, which was taken the evening the sun turned GANNET’s sails to gold, the main halyard is the red/yellow to starboard of the mast; the jib halyards to port.
Not difficult to tell apart.
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A second night of good sleep has put me right.
I reread the posted earlier part of the log and found a misplaced comma and a ‘healed’ for ‘heeled.’ There are probably others. While I wish they didn’t occur, I don’t consider them further signs of senility. As I’ve noted before, I have never been good at proof-reading my own writing because my mind tends to see on the page or screen what it expects to, not necessarily what is there.
I also noted that I mentioned that I was going to experiment with sheet to tiller self-steering, but didn’t provide results.
It worked, as I was almost certain it would. However, it slowed GANNET by a half to a full knot by wandering around the course, so I rather quickly went back to the tiller pilot.
My body had a lot of aches yesterday. Even my hands, which are still a bit stiff today. This was probably more from pulling myself around than sails.
I have never before felt the sensation of movement continuing after a sail, not even after the five months, mostly in the Southern Ocean, in EGREGIOUS.
Yet GANNET’s motion beating to windward was such that I did feel a sense of motion for a couple of hours after I docked, particularly when I closed my eyes in the shower, which seemed to move up, down and around.
Even after I got the interior cleaned up and organized, I was missing a pair of boat shoes and the stuff bag for the sleeping bag.
I found them this morning.
Friday, August 2, 2013