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Roger Woods Home Page
 
The Trip From Hell
 
 

Actually, truth be told, only about three days of the five day trip were really rough. But, them three days are unforgettable because they gave me the chance to learn under a master sailing Captain.

Had a message from someone on a sailing list about his trip in Alaska. I thought I would share with him some tidbits from one of mine. Yep, you guessed it: the TFH!

(A more detailed version appears below after this section)

Statement about your writing: that's a serious, down home, southern-type
compliment because I is a bit of a writer, too, especially about
offshore runs when you got a Captain what don't know but two speeds: all
out, or don't go! This in 40K winds and 8'-10' seas! On the N. Atlantic.

Hey! He was game. Me, too! I was so damned dumb that I not only knew
nothing, I didn't even suspect anything!

Had two folks aboard who live and sail in the Roaring 40's area of OZ.
They had a s**t-eatin' grin every time they grabbed the wheel, kicked
the boat in the ass, and whooped as they drove the boat through nice,
choice 8'-10' waves. I looked at 'em, figured if they could do it I
could, grabbed the wheel, headed for the waves, and had FUN! Hey, it
worked!

Weird thing was, the boat never got one drop of water in the cockpit
during the entire 5 day run. Irwin 39'. The bitch wouldn't stand up to
it's sails, had a hell of a time going to windward in a gale, but it ran
a steady 9.75K over the ground (GPS) sails sheeted in as tight as they
would go-- Captain's orders-- running S to SW with a NW gale! By the
fifth day, we'd a been in deep doo, doo if water had come aboard. We'd a
smelled like a bunch of wet dogs, including the lady OZ sailor. Well...
maybe she wouldn't a smelled like the other dudes... Gotta give the
ladies their due...

There we all was. Pinching the hell out of it, just an instant away from
a serious problem with the rigging if our attention at the wheel strayed
for a second, and the boat got away from us.

As in forced, unannounced, not planned for, rig-threatening jibe!

One of the relatively inexperienced crew members (Twern't me. I was the
other dummy what didn't know his arse from the hole in the water where
money is tossed to appease the hell out of the Sea God Dude) was sailing
close to the wind. Slight wind shift-- he yelled down to all of us in
the cabin: "I can't hold it!!!"-- and the traveler fitting hit the stop,
busted it, and we all clambered into the cockpit to see the boom
threatening to take down the mast. Everyone busted their butt, 'cept for
me, the old man, leaping forward, reaching out and pulling the boom back
in. We re-rigged it. Sheeted the main and genny in tight, started
pinching, and headed south! Boogie Time! 9.75 Kts!

Hell of a run that I would love to do again, with the damned traveler
car (whatever the hell they call it) staying where it belongs.

Just been waiting for someone to ask me to sign on. If it ain't heavy
weather on the N. Atlantic, I ain't goin'!

Next trip we got's to have a "steak, vegetables, baked potatoes and
break open a bottle of Merlot." session. Fat chance!

Then, Cap gives the new watch a course that damned near ran us ashore in
the middle of the night! He screwed up, but I don't lay no blame on him.
He's from OZ. Didn't know the waters. The way point he gave for the
course was valid. Only trouble was, there was some land between the boat
and the way point.

What really pissed me off-- at myself-- is that I didn't hear him give
the course when we came off watch. I sail those waters and live just
beyond the way point!!! So much for them dudes what think they know
stuff-- like me!

What the hell, at my age, 60, (when I originally wrote this) hearing is the third thing to do.
Memory
is second. First is.... I think she was 35 when she left, a couple of years ago.
Five great years with her. Good looking, extremely well

endowed-- I don't agree that anything more than a mouthful is wasted, it
ain't-- and many a night she warmed this old man's bones! Well, she did
some other things to make this old man happy but I ain't gonna get into
that since this is a family list.


Here's a More Detailed Version of What Happened. It was put on my old web page when memory was fresher.
 

In late 1996, I had email from a sailor in Australia inviting me to join as crew on an Irwin 39
that he had purchased in Bridgeport, CT. Not that I was going to do much more than drive,
at my age. I would let the young hard bodies do all the work! I knew the Norfolk, VA
waters, and would sail the boat into Little Creek.

We left Bridgeport in April 1997 and began an offshore run to Norfolk. We used the engine
through New York harbor and shut it down after we passed under the Verrazano Narrows
Bridge. A day or so later, when we tried to start it, it was frozen. Oh, well, always expect
the worst to happen and be prepared for it!

No big deal, right?

We had a mostly experienced crew, plenty of food aboard, and a seaworthy boat!

Not quite enough! Herb, in Canada, had predicted one day of good weather for us.
Unfortunately, he was right! Again!

What should have been a reasonably easy three day trip turned into five days, three with
gales, high waves, and some exhilarating heavy weather sailing.

The crew of five was on a four hour on, four or eight hours off schedule. We all got plenty
of driving experience in heavy weather! During one southerly gale, we got as far south as
Ocean City, MD, and could get no further, even though we did off-shore tacks to try and
get south.

I was at the wheel then, the boat was rocking and rolling, rail down, all of us hanging on
best as we could. I’m laughing my butt off-- as the boat slammed through 6’- 8’ waves
rolling in from the SE!  We’d head for blue water, 10, 20 miles offshore, come about trying
to get south, and the wind would blow us right back to where we started! Should have only
been one to two knots of current setting to the north. Nobody thought to check!

Maybe I should do my own sailing for dummies book!

After several runs like that, we gave up, set a course for Cape Henlopen, DE, and arrived
there late at night. I was navigating us into a port I had never been. I thought sure as hell I
was gonna run us up on some rocks, if I didn’t get it right the first time. I got lucky!

What’s that saying? “God watches over drunks and fools!” I hadn’t had a beer for three
days!

We left after daylight next morning with a light north wind. A NW gale blew up by the time
we were near the Maryland/Virginia line. I took over all navigation just south of there.

The owner had the boat close hauled, almost pinching, and we were roaring south! Winds
40 knots, waves averaging 6’ to 8’, cross-seas, swell.

You name it, we had it.

During that night’s run, while at the wheel, trying to anticipate what the bow was going to
do when it hit the next trough, I saw a steady 9.75 knots over the ground readout on the
GPS, with occasional 10 knot bursts! I didn’t even know the boat would go that fast!

When our watch went off duty, sometime around midnight, a course was given for a point
off the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay where we wanted to begin our turn into the Bay. The
NW gale was still blowing. I was not navigating at that time, but was simply trying to
somehow get 18 hours sleep during the four hours I would be off duty. Didn’t work!

I was sound asleep in a quarter berth when we arrived off the coast of Chincoteague, VA.

I had a rude awakening.

The crewman on watch yelled down at me:

“I hear surf! I’m heading off!”

I yelled:

“Claw off,” as I struggled to get out of my sleeping bag, turn around to the Nav table
behind me, and get our position.

Read the GPS, quickly plotted our location, and yelled to the cockpit:

“One mile off shore! In shallows!”

Over the next few seconds, or was it minutes (?), it seemed like the GPS readout was
frozen, as my hands tightly gripped the chart table, awaiting a sudden stop when we ran
aground! I remember glancing across to be sure the abandon-ship bag was still secured in
position on the top of the fridge cover!

The Irwin squat and got as we quickly gained sea room with the help of the gale! I was
never so glad to have 40 knot winds in my life. It was like riding a barn horse heading for
home. The bow sliced through waves, throwing water everywhere. But the cockpit stayed
dry!!

I yelled out the distance… One mile off and feet, at first, then yards… a mile and a
quarter, mile and a half, two miles…three… Yelling and smiles all around between me and
the two crew in the cockpit, as they took us several miles offshore. We turned south!

I took over all navigation for the balance of the trip to the mouth of the Bay.

When our watch came off earlier, the desired course had been given by someone else. I
was so damned tired, I wasn’t listening.

Yeah! You’re right.

Even though I was not navigating at the time, was so exhausted I could have collapsed on
the wet cabin sole and started snoring, oilskins and all, there was no excuse for me not
paying more attention! I knew the waters! No one else did, and I should have been alert,
even with only about an hour’s good sleep during the past twenty-four.

With the course given, there was one slight problem: there was land between us and the
waypoint!

This was not the fault of anyone.

Stuff is gonna happen, especially when everyone is tired of being beat to hell, getting little
good sleep, and just going through the motions of getting to Norfolk where they could all
sleep to their hearts’ content. Me, I had a water bed waiting at home!

But that’s what happens when your captain knows two speeds. Balls-to-the-Wall, or don’t
go.

Good lesson there! Others have learned it long ago. A reasonably sound boat can take
much more than you can. Never, ever push yourself and a crew to the point of exhaustion
trying to see how fast you can make the leg of a trip!!!

We never did sail into Norfolk.

Hauled to and drifted off Cape Henry, VA, for a while, then it was back to the Captain’s
Balls-to-the-Wall sailing, trying to get in with a NW gale blowing us out of the entrance! By
then, we were deep, deep reefed, and had a small storm sail up. No way in hell we were
going to get in with that sail set up!

I had to go off on him before he was convinced we were going to have to wait out the blow,
drifting off Cape Henry, or find some other way in. We did! The cavalry came riding to the
rescue!

Norfolk, VA


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