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

[William E. Wickman]

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 wasn’t 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, “and the waves turned the minutes
to hours”.  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
didn’t 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 don’t 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.  Don’t 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
passengers’ 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.

“I 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 anchor”


Fair Winds!!