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

[Wally Buck]

Thanks again for posting. - Wally

>From: "William E. Wickman" <wewickman at duke-energy.com>
>Reply-To: The Rhodes 22 mail list <rhodes22-list at rhodes22.org>
>To: rhodes22-list at rhodes22.org
>Subject: [Rhodes22-list] Outer Banks Adventure -- Day 5 of 5 -- The 
>finalinstallment
>Date: Fri, 13 May 2005 11:38:47 -0400
>
>
>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!!
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