To Broach Your Boat in the Waves or Not To - This IS the Question!

I left the marina with strong winds coming out of the west. It didn't take too long to get out to sea where 6-10 foot waves were waiting for me. It looked like a mess out there. I had the little jib up and it sailed well over the big ten footers. Out at sea, the waves came upon you like monsters wanting to gulp you up. I had tethered myself to the lifeline and the hatches were closed. These size of waves really challenge you to be alert and careful and to make wise decisions - or else! True enough, I've been in worse. Waves that were breaking more often and that were higher and more steep. But still, these kept me on my toes! I was even able to video a little footage of the time out there. Its interesting how on video, its very hard to show how big the waves are. I believe this is because of the wave length. On video you can't see the distance between waves and thus the waves just appear to blend into the sea. Only the waves atop the bigger waves show up and these don't look too big.

While I was out there with my phone camera, I suddenly got nailed by a big breaking wave and the spray flew all over me. I quickly ducked and saved my phone. The wetness hit me in the back instead, drenching through my first layer of clothing. I remember in times past being much more intimidated by these waves and returning to the harbor after fifteen minutes or so. But I've been learning more how to deal with these waves and my fear level has decreased. So today I stayed out an hour in the craziness. It was rather fun. I did not have a lot of stress as the small jib was just the right size for the gusting wind and the boat was holding her own real well. Its when the wind starts increasing and putting too much pressure on the sails that I begin to get nervous.

I did though, have a little trouble on the way back as the boat kept wanting to head up into the strong gusting wind. The waves were now coming from behind and the wind was crossing over my beam. I realized I had not let the main sail out enough. I mean, the boat was on a beam reach already, but still the boat had almost swerved broadsides into the big waves twice. Thankfully I had been saved by the simple turn of the tiller. But if the wind comes on strong enough, the tiller is helpless to overpower the sails. That's why so much care needs to be taken to make sure the you are sailing the boat BY the sails. I've had my tiller break against a heavy wind when my sails were set wrong. So I had to let the main sheet and boom out even more (almost to a run!) so the boat wouldn't broach. One big lesson in sailing in big seas and heavy winds is to make sure the sails are helping your tiller out!

While writing this, I wanted to see what the full definition of 'broaching' was, so I looked it up. This was very interesting to me and they put it in words that are very clear and easy to understand. I really felt like I was battling all these same symptoms out at sea that they are talking about:

"A sailboat broaches when its heading suddenly changes towards the wind due to wind/sail interactions for which the rudder cannot compensate. This causes the boat to roll dangerously and if not controlled may lead to a capsize."

"Also when sailing on a dead downwind run an inexperienced or inattentive sailor can easily misjudge the real strength of the wind since the boat speed subtracts directly from the true wind speed and this makes the apparent wind less. In addition the sea conditions also falsely seem milder on this point of sail as developing white caps are shielded from view by the back of the waves and are less apparent. When changing course in a brisk wind from a run to a reach or a beat, a sailboat that seemed under control can instantly become over-canvassed and in danger of a sudden broach."
~Broach (sailing) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

True enough, sailing downwind or close to it on a broad reach, is exhilarating and very different than sailing into the 'teeth' of the wind. The wind is coming mostly from behind and you often end up 'surfing' through the waves on a fast track that appears much easier than beating into the crashing waves. But its dangers are perhaps even more real than on the other tack.

~Albie
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Blasted by Cannon Smoke!

Exy's big cannon blasted off at us and smoke fumed out over the sea. The shot rang and echoed in our heads nearly making our teeth rattle! A cannon ball shot over my head. Hold on, did I just say that? I meant to say a grape fruit. Because that's what we shot out of the cannon on the way back from Santa Barbara Island. Or was that from a big sling shot I'm thinking about? Oh well, whatever it was, nothing really shot over my head except my active imagination and a lot of smoke! Soon the Exy was blanketed in the grey stuff and I couldn't help but think how cool it all looked. For the next few hours we tacked and beat into the south westerly wind - always keeping our eyes out for the Exy Johnson's position.

Just to keep you current on what was happening, the Irving Johnson and the Exy Johnson tall ships had set out sailing in unison that morning. I was aboard the Irving. We were taking a middle school group of kids out to experience the ocean today on one the most beautiful sailing ships in California. Out of the dock, the first Mate yelled all 'crew' to stations and this meant the children too! Our station - #1 was in charge of the jibs at the bow. When we were ready, the ones in charge of the fore stay sail cried out: "Ready forsail halyard!" Soon cries from all the other stations could be heard too. Looking along deck, I could see the main sail going up and the main stay sail. Soon three jibs were up and the ship was moving along at a good clip without the engine. Next, the lower, upper, and topgallant square sails were hauled into position. My group was in charge of the topgallant clews and bunts. There is one rope or line connecting the clew and two lines for the bunts. These lines pull the sails down after the spars have been drawn up. The kids were as confused as many of you are now who are reading this. "The 'what' does what?" They were thinking. Anyway, you get the picture! Soon we were beyond the San Pedro Lighthouse and at sea. The sun glimmered off the little waves like a thousand shining mirrors. And off in the distance - only twenty three miles away - was Catalina Island. I had sailed there with a different group of kids this last summer. Today though, the Irving and the Exy were destined to practically board each other in a pirate like sea battle. Well not really, but close. The Irving was slowly gaining on the Exy, drawing near to her stern. Soon we were almost along side and ready to board. I mean - no one really dared - but it was fun to think about! (Actually, a professional photographer was taking pictures of the two ships together.)

After lunch the kids took turns climbing the ratlines up the mast and challenging themselves to not look down. Atop the first platform - near the big sqaure rig sail called 'the Course', you can see what looks like forever across the sea. You feel like you are up in the sky among the clouds looking down at the sea and the islands and mountains and all mankind. I knew the kids were getting an amazing view - those that dared to climb up there!

During that time, I took a turn at the wheel, steering a course for 160 degrees. It seemed odd to me that from Marina Del Rey (where my Columbia 22 is docked), the course to Catalina is due south ( 180) from the breakwater. But in San Pedro - much further down the coast - it's still 160. Honestly, Catalina appears to be due west from there. But after taking a look at the compass, I could see I was wrong. So I kept up my heading - turning the wheel one spoke this way and then one spoke that way to keep the ship balanced. I remembered the trip to Catalina - when I had taken the wheel for at least a good hour or two. At that time the heading had been to get as near the wind as we could so we could bring the Irving into Two Harbors under sail alone. In fact, out of all the trips I've made in the Irving and Exy Johnson, that was the only time I recall having made it in the harbor without the engine. After sending down 3 or 400 foot of chain with the anchor, I clearly remember the sun was setting and there was an orange glow atop the western mountain range. Looking off to the distant 'Ship Rock', the ocean had turned to a dark blue color and what with the little white caps cresting on the waves, it owned a mysterious beauty about it that no picture or letters can really accurately describe!

In the morning we did some hiking and climbed to the top of the mountain - catching glimpse of a buffalo! That afternoon, we took a turn in the kayaks and paddled through the sea caves just down the coast. And in the evening, our team made dinner and then took a break while the other team washed the dishes. The following day, we sailed to Santa Barbara island amidst cloudy skies and variable winds. I, and a few other kids took bow watch up on the bow sprit that stretches twenty feet or so out over the water. It was a blast to ride up and fall ten feet as the bow drove through the waves. Eventually we were going to get a soaking and I warned the kids - especially the ones standing on the net below the bow-sprit - to watch out. But that had little impact. But what did have impact was the sudden wave that hit the bow and that drove in for home as the netting and even the bow-sprit were suddenly immersed in water! The kids all gasped - being now completely wet. We all thought that was hugely fun - even the ones that were wet!

Later that day we made it to Santa Barbara island, but to our disappointment, the island was closed and we had to turn around and come back. However, on the return trip, we set the giant 'Course' sail and we all felt like Greeks in a different age sailing before the wind!

By nightfall - the following evening - we had made our way back to San Pedro. After dodging three or four huge tankers with help from our radar and the night bow watch, we finally arrived back at our home dock. Both the day sail excursion and the trip to Catalina had been exciting and beutiful!

~Albie
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Kayaking & Drinking Hot Chocolate at Sea!

Even the afterglow had almost faded. The waves began to move the kayak up and down on the swells as I got closer to the sea. Passing the last tip of land, the Malibu Mountains presented themselves in a deep purple - about ten miles away across the dark sea. The sky was this mysterious dark blue and purple blend, mixed in with a tint of gold right above the water where the afterglow was quickly fading. I sat still on kayak, entranced by the beauty of the moment. About thirty minutes before this - while there was still light - I had left my slip in my kayak all ready to row out to sea. I had donned my life jacket and had a flashlight ready too - for when it got dark. I also had packed a bucket full of odds and ends at the back of the kayak behind my seat. Passing the tall sail ship 'Spirit of Dana Point', I had then headed for the shallows along the channel. At that time the sun had been setting but I had still seen all the shells and rocks below the surface of the water as I rowed above them. Soon I had kayaked almost all the way to the ocean and was near the breakwater. Now here I sat bewitched by the magic feeling of the sea and the mountains and sky. I couldn't resist raising my hands to God and thanking him!

Eventually I got moving again and paddled the double oar out into the bumpy waves. When out past the
breakwater, I paddled hard into the westward bound swell. I have to say, I have a fear of sharks being at sea in such a small boat (especially at night!) and for this reason, I don't like to stay out at sea for too long. So I went out a little ways - just far enough to get a good 'line up' of waves to 'surf' the kayak back into the harbor on! Then I turned the kayak as quickly around as I could to head back. At this turn, it is a little dangerous because for a moment or two, you find yourself broadsides to the waves. But after a successful turn, the next few minutes were exhilarating as I paddled with ferocity to keep atop the waves as they ran fast behind me. Soon white water ran below the kayak as the momentum kicked in and I began to surf! When I got in to a place where the marina and the sea met, I decided to rest, ride the waves out and have a hot cup of chocolate and watch the final light of day completely vanish. Taking out my thermos and cup and a packet of Hershey's hot chocolate (which I kept in the fishing bucket behind my seat), I then poured the hot water into my cup with the chocolate. Mmm! It tasted great! There's nothing like being warmed up from the inside out while its cold outside - and when you're surrounded by beauty. I can't say I ever remember being so close to the moving waves and drinking hot chocolate before! I mean, its great to have a warm drink aboard my sailboat too - but it definitely does not have such a feeling of vulnerability.

So when I was done, I headed back down the channel, stopping at some rocks that had an amazing little 'anchorage' of sorts for my kayak. There, a giant flat slab of rock lay just above the waters edge, with a little 'inlet' between two boulders to bring the kayak into. I enjoyed stopping there for a few moments - I guess for no other reason than because it sparked my imagination and made me feel like a kid again! As I then left there and continued on down the channel, I came across the 'Spirit of Dana Point once more - except this time only the stern lights inside the Captains Cabin were on - appearing like a scene from 'Pirates of the Carribean'! So I endulged the kid in me again and took some pictures with hope to show them off on my 'Pirate Albie' blog! (Which I did, and if you're interested to see that its: http://piratealbie.blogspot.com or click on my 'pirate' picture below :-)
Upon oaring my way (with great quietness) around the ship, I then made my way back to my sail boat slip and brought the kayak up on the dock. My night of adventure was over and I was thankful to have been out there and to have seen all the wonderful things and to be at my nice warm sailboat once more!

~Albie
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What happened off of Catalina: Make Shift Mast & Shrouds.

Leaving Catalina Island as the sun was just leaving its orange glow on the water, I sailed out past bird island and soon it was dark as I headed out a mile and then down the coast of Catalina. I was heading toward Avalon, twenty miles down and then San Diego sixty miles after that. Four foot waves ran behind me pushing me along as a steady wind blew from the north. My sails were out on a broad reach and I felt happy. But I was a little anxious too. Sunset often meant failing coastal winds and the greater concern - that of my broken lower shroud. As I looked off into the darkness, I could see the silhouette of the island in the distance and the base of the mast pumping slightly as the make-shift shroud kept the mast from totally slipping out of the step. How did this happen? I will try to explain:

I was about three hours out from Marina Del Rey, and the waves had gone from three feet to now about five and breaking slightly. I had just started my sailing trip to San Diego and was half way out to Catalina island when the wind began to really pick up. Not really a problem. However, I knew I should take my genoa down and put up the smaller jib (but back then I was more succeptable to sea sickness) and feeling a little queasy - I just let it go. Bad MISTAKE because not long after that I was to encounter my first lessons with the rigging. With a sudden crack, the lower shroud (one of two thick metal wires holding up the mast) snapped. In the same second the mast literally rolled and bent from the deck to the mast head. As I sat there expecting the mast to collapse - I was surprised to see that it stood fast. Enough to say, that got me over my 'queasyness' real quick! Iike superman, I was up at the bow in a flash and let down the genoa. Taking pressure off the mast really helped a lot and I was able to get to Catalina Island that night by really babying the boat and keeping myself on the tack that didn't put pressure on that broken shroud. In the morning I was able to create a make shift shroud from a firm long rope and a hook from a bungie cord to hold it firmly at the top. Taking a long stick and very lightly taping the rope to the top, I was able to finally get the hook to fit into the spreader (there's a special metal fixture that holds the lower shroud secure there). Once that was done, I pulled the stick and tape off and brought the rope in super tight at the lower shroud 'deck cleat' until it was really tight. The make shift shroud was so tight I could now play music on it! Well, not really - but close! So with that , I made my way on down to San Diego. I'm sure glad I didn't get into bad weather, because that shroud wouldn't of lasted a second in it. As it is today, I still don't know how I managed. The bungie hook is not stainless steal and will bend with enough pressure. I did however, really baby the boat on that tack. The next morning half way down the coast, I remember seeing the mast pumping a little and noticing that the mast was pulling slightly out of the mast step. In San Diego, I bought myself some stainless steal hooks and fixed my metal shroud as best I could. Sailing back to Los Angeles, I then got myself a new shroud and put that up. Notwithstanding all this, a year later, I lost my mast to an old shroud that was wearing and breaking at the top of the mast where I could not see. After all that (which you can read about in the story below this), I had this thought:

"What if I had been demasted out in the middle of the ocean - what would I have done then?" So began my construction of my make shift mast! 'Sailing' or should I really say 'rowing' my Columbia 22 boat out into the marina late last night, I decided to work on my idea out there and still get my sea time. It was a beautiful night and I was the only one out on the water. Even not having sails, I still enjoyed the wind on the water and the night light reflections. Rowing against the light wind blowing was a little difficult but I soon got to the top of the finger channel and could just let the boat drift. In the quietness, I started going over in my mind all the different possibilities for building the make-shift mast. It was a little rough going as not many ideas were taking shape! And then the thought of standing the broken mast up against the bow pulpit started becoming a possibility. Laying out two boards horizontally for the mast to lie against (actually the mast was fitted snug between the two and could rest there), I then got the halyards secured at a metal eye at the top of the mast. Then while drifting down the harbor and trying to maintain some course, I lifted the heavy mast up and secured it quickly with strong rope. Suddenly I realized the boat was drifting too close to a boat on the dock and had to run across the deck and into the cockpit and turn the tiller. Meanwhile the mast was only secured half way and leaning dangerously close to shifting and snapping the wood and falling into the water. I had to move fast and carefully so that I didn't rock the boat. Having done that successfully, I then came back and secured it all the way. Having to strengthen the bow so that the weight of the 100 lbs mast was pulling against the forward shroud cleat and the two bow port and starboard cleats - instead of leaning its weight on the bow pulpit - took a lot of time and thought. As it was, it took me hours to make it properly secure and it wasn't till 3:30 am in the morning when I rolled into my dock! All the time I had doubts as to getting it up and how tight it was and if the make shift shrouds would work and if it would fall and pull the pulpit right off the deck! But after all that, I had done it and it was secure! But 'beautiful' it was not - unless you like 'pirate' looking rigging! So then I had to figure out what kind of sail to give it. At first I was thinking that an asian lanteen sail plan would work really well - but it didn't. Then I got out my small storm sail and ran that up the mast. It was okay but after taking it for a test run, it pulled the bow down and would not run into the wind. Later I learned this was because I have a fin keel and the mast being at the bow was not at the center of gravity/effort. So instead of pulling the boat, the sails power was turning it. Interesting huh! Well at that point I was out of ideas. So then later, I saw in my sailing book a make shift sail that had a spinnaker pole put up off the stern with the bottom edge of the sail taken up the halyard and the length of it pulled out to catch the wind across the deck. Not sure if you can get the picture of this but the sail is up - just the wrong way! So that gave me an idea to try my full sail and put it up the wrong direction from my mast at the bow. I guess I was hoping that because a lot of the sail caught the wind along the waist of the boat that it would drive the boat even into the wind - but no. I did get more power going across the wind and downwind though. So as of the writing of this - I still don't know how to get the boat upwind with a make-shift sail. You know on the ocean, that would possibly mean having to go hundreds or thousands of miles in the wrong direction just to get to land! So if you have any good ideas - leave me a message! I would love to hear them. :-)

~Albie