1.8.11
So we left Beaufort at around 9 am on Friday and made our way out to the inlet (of course bucking the last of the incoming tide) and set sail for Charleston via Frying Pan Shoal as our first waypoint. The west wind was not to be and had more south than west, but hey. Up wind sailing is no stranger so we trimmed up and were having a fine romp on the ocean. The weather prediction called for a shift to Northwest that night and hoped to carry the change to speed us to our destination. Conditions were a little windier than broadcast and we took a reef in the main when winds got to be 20, gusting to 25. Andrew was feeling the effects of the “ocean motion” at this point and I should have canned it then and there but being the optimistic, stubborn skipper that I am, pressed on regardless. Upwind is fine but 25+ is work and we’ve got it going really good hitting 7 at times. Decided to throw in the second reef to make it easier for the autopilot to keep the boat on course. Sun has now disappeared and there is no decrease in wind speed, just the opposite. We are sailing very fast up wind in almost a pure southerly in 25, gusting to 30. We started to roll in a bit of jib and the lead block slid aft and twisted off the top of the jib. Clip in and move the lead. Conditions now are a bit rough and Andrew is in full Mal De Mar mode so it’s all me for the evening jaunt. On we go into the darkness and lo and behold, more wind; and with a vengeance. Rolled up more jib (it’s only a 110 to start at best) and blasting through some sizeable rollers. Into the night with the autopilot doing an admiral job. Tried to get wind info to the pilot to steer to a wind angle but to no avail. I guess not the best time to fix stuff. Couple of slams as the boat takes on a few big waves but no big deal. Now it’s around 8pm and we’re flying along at 7+ K but still not close to pointing at our Frying Pan Shoal waypoint, well maybe to the way outside bouy. Guess what, more south and more velocity. Surprised? NOT. 30k is now the norm and decide to give us an advantage by motor sailing thru till the northerly materializes. Still getting 5-6 k over the bottom. Looks like this is going to be a long evening. Onward and, unfortunately, upward. Where is that Northerly? We pinged the SPOT somewhere along the line here but don’t have the position info as we’re in the real romp mode now. All the reef lines and halyard for the main come back to the cockpit with 2 winches and stoppers so it was “cake“ throwing in the reef. Got to say, nice set up, Pete. Of course the wind, being what it is, did not cooperate and just mocked us with more velocity. In comes the jib but not without effort, probably due to the 2000# of backstay applied earlier. Got it in but the roll leaves a loose piece of leach hanging out that flaps a bit at times. Not the direction we want to go and now with no jib, the motor gets some more revs and we can get 5 knots of boat speed, just off head to wind. By now the wind is blowing with a vengeance, got everything cranked to the max, boat going OK to weather and jumping over a few waves with a little slam here and there. Seas are maybe 8 to 10 foot and it’s pitch black. What can you do? Where is that Northerly? We’re getting a little beat up at this point as there is no decrease in wind speed; just the opposite. Boat is doing great, all systems go, full speed ahead. Ohhh yeah. A few blasts come trough packing a punch and the autopilot beeps and gives up. It can’t deal with the pressure it’s time for me to drive. And I did of course. Wild, especially when it decided to give me a few blasts in the 40’s . YIKES . We launched the boat off a few of the larger rollers and came down with a slam but not something I was unprepared for, just jarring. Now we were sailing in 35 steady with gusts over 40. You’ve got to realize, we’re 30 miles offshore in 100+ ft of water and it’s 10 PM. What can you do. We’re motoring now with a double reef, and no jib trying to keep the heel angle below 25 degrees, max for this engine or you loose oil pressure. We’re still making headway but only 3-4k and the waves seem extraordinary. Am I going to turn on the deck light to see? I don’t think so. Now we’re launching the boat off some waves on a regular basis. Still nothing but more wind from the south and HARD. Ah, Yachting at it’s best. We’re rolling through these incredible waves and they’re way too close together. And it just gets better. The engine alarm goes off and the oil pressure is down to 20 lbs, 60 being the norm so it’s engine off. It’s pitch dark, still more than 20 miles to Frying Pan shoal bouy, our waypoint. Not close to being up wind enough and we find this monster wave that we decide to launch out of at maybe 3 knots under double reefed main. Let me tell you now, Great Adventure or any other water park you can name couldn’t give you this ride. We were weightless for about 2 seconds as the boat left the water, heeled over and came down with a resounding crash opening every drawer and spewing everything everywhere. The hit was so bad that I thought the rig was going to drop through the boat. Oh My GOD. A quick bilge check and on we go, no crew and no pilot so it was a real quick check. At this point it was time to turn tail and run with it. Spun the boat on the top of a wave and eased out the main. OK, we’re sailing now. But we’re going east and FAST, I’m talking 8-9k and hitting 10 at times. Trying to keep the boat going due east, do not desire to jibe at this point, and Andrew pops his head out of the hatch. His eyes get like saucers as he looks behind us at a huge roller cresting over my shoulder. Where are the life jackets he asks. Seconds later he’s back below into the semi fetal position that he’s adopted for the voyage. Poor guy, just wanted to go ocean sailing. This is not great as we’re headed to Europe and I don’t have THAT much food aboard. After about an hour of this with the jib flapping like a machine gun when it isn’t blanketed by the main, the wind starts to shift to the north. It couldn’t have done this earlier? After making sure there are no lines trailing in the water, engine on long enough for a chicken jibe to head us in the right direction. It’s said that gentleman don’t sail to weather; I guess I’m not one of those guys. OK, gentlemen be damned, it’s upwind again back toward our departure point. I’m pretty tired now and rolled out a tab of jib with the lead all the way forward, got the bow pointed north and set the wheel brake to keep us moving slowly through the confused seas. Our actual course made good was towards Beaufort at around 2 knots. Finally below into the warmth of the cabin and a bit of mopping up and closing drawers, stuff everywhere. The heater feels great, please don’t quit. After shedding all the soggy stuff and donning some (relatively) dry gear it’s time to nod off for a few minutes at a time. Boat is doing well with a much kinder motion. Through the night with the wind now at a sedate 25k, Venus looks down upon us as the sky starts to brighten. Suited up again, it’s out into the COLD morning air and a quick inspection of the deck and gear. We had so much water coming across the deck that it shifted the dinghy on the foredeck and floated the cushions it was sitting on overboard. Dodger window has the stitching blown out, whisker pole wore a groove in the teak toerail as it floated on and off in the constant surge of water coming over the leeward rail. Rolled out about half the jib and got the boat rolling again, sailing now at a respectable 6.5 knots and headed in the right direction. Not really the intended right direction but the gang’s all here. I guess the autopilot just needed a nap too because it’s working just fine again. Down below I start to make some sense of the pile and find that we’ve shifted everything. Locker lids under the cushions have moved, our pile of clothing in the fore cabin has migrated aft into a sodden mess from the forward hatch leak. The table is cockeyed as the mount glued to the hull has broken free and the port settee front has also broken from it’s lower fastenings. Half a dozen sail slugs are broken but the full batten slides are still in place. Mast wedges have fallen out and every where it’s wet, wet, wet. We get back to the inlet and after an engine check (oil level fine) we fire the baby up, got pressure, all systems go. Got inside, dropped the main and went to the Beaufort town dock. Andrew is now cured and just about poised to jump off and run to the nearest eatery for a burger. And that’s what we do, back in Beaufort again.
1.9.11
29 degrees greets us in beautiful downtown Beaufort this morning and it being a day of rest, it’s time to get to work. Water has gotten everywhere and find more stuff shifted around. Have to say though, not a broken jar, plate or glass anywhere. Even the eggs are intact. Well actually the barometer does have a cracked face from the rapidly falling pressure (and sudden stop). Wiping every thing down will be an all day project. Decide to get the cushions clean and the clothes sorted before doing the full monty on the woodwork. Cleared out the cockpit locker so I could do an inspection of all the stuff down under and find it’s a salt mine down there. The blower hose is hanging loose and find it’s got a gallon of water in it. Guess that’s why. Tachometer has more than just condensation, it’s dripping inside; out that comes and empty the water. A little spray stuff and the warm cabin have that cured. And so it goes throughout the day. Andrew finds the local pool hall and is gone for the afternoon. After dinner it’s off to the Cru Bar for a cocktail and some local color.
1.10.11
Hopes of an early start are dashed as it’s snowing to beat the band. Flakes are huge and not a soul in sight. Pretty, if you like that sort of thing but enough already. Back to bed. We try to do laundry but no, laundry is closed. Another day of repairs and desalting and did get the table reinstalled. It’s supposed to rain tonight and get warmer, maybe the snow will be gone by tomorrow. Then another day in the ditch.
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