[Rhodes22-list] Outer Banks Adventure -- Day 5 of 5 -- The final installment

[Steve Alm]

Terrific Bill.  Thank you!
Slim

On 5/13/05 10:38 AM, "William E. Wickman" <wewickman at duke-energy.com> wrote:

> 
> Day 5:  The Long Trip Home
> 
> After breakfast, I spent some time examining the rudder and trying to
> figure out a way to reconnect the lower section.  I ultimately found that
> the configuration we used the day before was still the best way to go for
> the final leg back to Oriental.  Winds had shifted around to the north so
> it looked like we would have the wind on the nose for most of the morning
> as we made our way up West Bay, across the southern tip of Pamlico Sound
> and back up the Neuse River.
> 
> Soon after setting out I realized that the north wind was not a good thing.
> There were a lot of miles of fetch for the waves to build.  The weather
> forecast was better than the day before, but still called for small craft
> advisories in Pamlico Sound until the early afternoon.  We would soon get a
> taste of what small craft advisory means.
> 
> As we made our up West Bay, the winds built up again to 15-20 kts (maybe
> more) but this time they were in our face or slightly off our starboard
> bow.  The wind and 3-5 foot waves coming off of Pamlico Sound resulted in
> the wettest wildest ride of the whole trip.  I thought the previous day was
> bad, but these conditions were even more intense.  Again, the close
> interval of waves was rough on the boat and crew (more so the crew).  The
> boat would ride up over the crest of one wave and slam into the trough
> before burying its bow completely into the next wave.  Water would
> literally wash over the fore deck and up and over the cabin top.  The
> pop-top deflected most of the water, but some did make its way under the
> pop-top and a little water splashed under the pop-top and up & over the lip
> and into the cabin below.  It wasn¹t a lot of water, just enough to dampen
> the cushions a bit.  These were extreme conditions, but some type of rubber
> gasket around the pop-top lip would have prevented any water from entering
> the cabin at all.
> 
> The flared hulls once again did a good job of deflecting waves away from
> the boat, but the high winds would catch the spray and arc it back over the
> boat in a rooster tail of spray that would douse us and my beloved
> chartbook.  It became difficult to see through my sailing glasses due to
> the constant onslaught of spray.  I was really glad to have foul weather
> gear.  It was the only thing that made the conditions the least bit
> tolerable.  Sailing Buddy huddled in the cockpit over the GPS trying to
> keep us moving towards the buoys, as water would wash over him.  He even
> noted that this was all making him feel quite like a "salty sailor."
> 
> Note to file:  Always buy waterproof charts, and always carry foul weather
> gear.
> 
> I now understand what Gordon Lightfoot meant in his ballad of the sinking
> of the Edmond Fitzgerald where he sings, ³and the waves turned the minutes
> to hours².  It seemed like an eternity that we battled these waves.  And to
> make matters worse, it began to rain, although the rain was almost
> inconsequential with all the spray.
> 
> The final punctuation to this voyage was the loss of my GBI anchor.  The
> extreme wave pounding at the bow had shaken my anchor loose from the hanger
> mount on the bow pulpit.  First, the anchor was hanging from only one
> hanger and pin at the bow.  A couple of minutes later, the entire anchor
> disappeared.  I feared that it was dangling from the mounting pin on the
> bow, banging mercilessly into the hull.  Sailing Buddy, feeling like quite
> the seasoned seaman, volunteered to go to the bow and check it out.  I
> didn¹t have a jack-line, but Sailing Buddy tied off a safety line before
> venturing forward.
> 
> Sailing Buddy had quite a time getting up there.  I would have laughed out
> loud at the comical scene had I not been struggling with the tiller and
> worrying about loosing the rest of my rudder.  He had quite a ride as the
> bow plowed and buried into a wave, then lifted him completely off the bow,
> his death grip on the bow pulpit the only thing connecting him to the boat.
> Sailing Buddy complained later that his bow ride did more damage to his
> body than anything else the entire trip.  He was very happy to get back
> into the cockpit.  For better or worse, the anchor had dropped off the boat
> and was lost.  Better the anchor than Sailing Buddy.
> 
> Note to file:  Take your anchor off the bow pulpit if you expect rough
> weather, or at the very least lash it down.
> 
> At last, at long last, we made the turn into the Neuse River and put the
> waves on our stern.  The farther up the river we went, the calmer the wind
> and waves became.  We were even escorted by a pod of dolphins for awhile.
> Life was good again, and we both settled into a feeling of relief and
> satisfaction that we would indeed make it back to port intact and without
> the need for assistance.
> 
> Finally, and three hours behind our target arrival time, we pulled (or
> should I say limped) back into the port of Oriental.  It was 1 pm as I
> jumped on the dock and brought the trailer down to the ramp.  At the same
> time we were retrieving the Rhodes, a family was launching a West Wight
> Potter.  I certainly hoped they were going to stay near port.  Turns out
> they ended up returning before we had finished de-rigging.
> 
> I will note here that an unsung hero of this trip was my outboard motor,
> the 9.9hp Yamaha high thrust.  It never failed to start and run smoothly
> and reliably despite a severely bent prop, and provided enough thrust to
> power through severe head winds and chop with the throttle only 1/3 ­ 1/2
> open.  It was also very fuel efficient, sipping only a few gallons a day.
> 
> By 3pm we were packed up and on the road back home.  It all seemed surreal
> to be back on land with everyone going on about their ordinary day to day
> activities.  We felt like we had just returned from an epic voyage, having
> battled the elements just a few hours ago, and yet everything on land was
> so calm and quiet.  The adventure was over.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Some Final Thoughts
> 
> I don¹t know if it was bad luck that beset me because I removed the old
> name from the hull of my Rhodes and have not renamed the boat yet, or if it
> was good fortune that we were ultimately safe, uninjured, and the boat
> relatively intact.  The trip could have gone better, but it most certainly
> could have gone a lot worse.  You have probably heard this before, but it
> is worth repeating.  One may complain about the cost of equipment, but when
> you need it in a pinch, that anchor is worth tenfold what you paid; that
> small nut or bolt is more valuable than its weight in gold; that rain
> jacket is worth more than a mink coat; and the list goes on.
> 
> You can read about it time and time again, but I personally think it is
> good (at least for me) to experience first hand what 25kt winds are like;
> what 2-3 ft seas are like relative to 4-6 ft. seas; what 2-5 ft waves on
> the Pamlico Sound are like; what it is like to ride out a storm at anchor.
> Having done it, I know that when I am faced with these conditions  again
> that I can handle them with confidence.  Knowing that the boat can handle
> the conditions; that I have the proper equipment; and that I have the
> experience and skills will make it more of an exiting adventure than a
> fearful event.  And if I have my wife or kids or novice crew with me when
> conditions turn bad, this experience will be all that more important.
> 
> I have heard that some novice sailors (or guests on sailboats) swear off
> sailing after one of the experiences like we had.  That is a sad thing
> indeed.  It is my view that such experiences can in fact be exhilarating if
> the skipper is prepared and knowledgeable about where the limits of
> tolerance are for himself and his sailing guests.  Don¹t be afraid to push
> the envelope as you build upon your own sailing experiences, but be ready
> and willing to pull back if you or your novice crew gets too far outside
> their comfort level.  As Stan said, the boat will survive long past the
> passengers¹ breaking point.
> 
> This experience also deepened my respect for the forces of Mother Nature
> and gave me a greater appreciation for the frontier regions that sailing
> can take us, even in coastal areas.  Venturing into parts unknown evokes a
> real sense of excitement, but the sea is very unforgiving to those that go
> unprepared.  Sailing Buddy is a high adventure guy that has been near the
> top of Mt. Everest, but he was awed by the exposure one places oneself when
> they venture into the ocean wilderness in a sailboat.  But that is where
> the adventure in cruising lies.  There are very few things we can do any
> more, or places we can go, where we can put our physical and mental mettle
> to the test.  If well planned and prepared, such trips make memories for a
> lifetime.
> 
> So I will close with one of my favorite quotes by Oliver Wendell Holmes.  I
> think it is self explanatory.
> 
> ³I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, as in
> what direction we are moving.  To reach the port of heaven, we must sail
> sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it; but sail we must, and not
> drift nor lie at anchor²
> 
> 
> Fair Winds!!__________________________________________________
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