The Boat Engine that Failed and the Sails that Said: 'I Think I Can, I Think I Can!"

~Sailing without an engine - sometimes you win, sometimes you lose but what I learned saved my life!

One weekend we sailed over to Catalina island. After some hiking and camping the first night, my friend and his son wanted to do some scuba diving the next day. It was a little windy and cloudy that day with four foot waves off shore. We anchored in a hundred feet near a natural reef. My friends went over the side and I decided to get my bearings. Finding three things that wouldn't move, I then could see if the anchor was holding or not. While I sat watching, I then had an idea to get the jib sail ready (as we had motored out to the anchor spot). This was instinct as I trusted my sails more than an engine and wanted a plan B in case anything happened. After watching for fifteen minutes to see if the boat moved and being convinced the anchor was holding, I went down below to take a few minutes nap. About fifteen minutes later, I woke up and saw one of my friends back from his dive. My other friend was still out diving when I then decided to take a scan of my three bearings. Two of them seemed fine but the third was off - way off. This gave me some alarm and I looked at the boat and my surroundings trying to see exactly what was happening. Everything seemed to be fine except that one bearing. In fact, the longer I looked at it, the more I realized the boat was getting closer and closer to it every second. Suddenly it hit me: this was not just an optical illusion and we were moving closer to shore and fast! Something had to be done and quick.

"Brad - the anchors dragging!" I yelled running back to the stern. Quickly I fired up the engine and kicked it into high gear. I was hoping to counter the drag on the boat. I then encouraged Brad Jr. to haul up the anchor. But after attempting to, it was caught on something and would not pull up. So I let Brad take the engine, while I tried, but I was no more successful than he. We were still losing ground and I was beginning to worry. No matter how hard I revved the engine, I could not seem to break the anchors hold on whatever it had snagged on and if this wasn't bad enough, I couldn't seem to stop the drifting closer and closer to shore. It made no sense to me. If the anchor had snagged than why were we moving? Or maybe it was caught with kelp all over it and was too heavy to haul in? This last scenario seemed to hit more on the truth than anything else. I wished more than anything that my friend was back from his dive and here now as he was a better sailor than I and would know what to do next. But he wasn't and something needed to happen now! The engine was on high churning the waters behind us - yet the situation was not getting any better. Suddenly it got worse as the engine died and no matter what I did I could not restart it again. Did it run out of gas? No. More choke? No. Less Choke. No. Choke in? Nothing worked. As Brad Jr and I watched the shoreline, we coud see the ugly rocks approaching fast. In five minutes or less we would be swept by the waves right up onto those rocks.

"Call for help!" I yelled to Brad Jr. "Its channel 16!"

I had one more idea but I needed to have Brad call just in case my idea didn't work. Quickly he got on the radio and dialed in the Harbor Master. Meanwhile, I got out my knife and went up on the bow and pulled the anchor one last time with all my might. It was like a huge boulder was attached to the other end! Then I cut the anchor. At last we were free from its clutches. But now no power - except for the sails. I had less than a minute to get them up and thankfully I had made them ready to unfurl. With quivering hands, I pulled up the halyards and with the nasty rocks looking me in the face , we suddenly pulled out of there and took off to sea on a good breeze. The Harbor Master zipped right past me and wouldn't have even known I was the one in trouble! We waved them down anyway - so they wouldn't be more confused and after they came over and asked if we were ok, they offered to bring me in to a mooring ball as the engine had stopped. On the way, we were able to pick up my other diver friend Braddock - who saw the incident from the top of the water and said that when he came back up, the boat was gone! Looking to the left a quarter of a mile, he saw us so close to the rocks that he thought it was over for us for sure!

So sailing without an engine has its ups and downs - that's for sure. This story was one of my ups - as far as my sails coming to my rescue is concerned, But last week when I got becalmed for two hours in Marina Del Rey till after midnight was one of my downs!

I know you can see the value of having the sails ready and set in case of an emergency. But really, learning to sail without an engine gives more experience and knowledge than just this. it stretches you to be a much better sailor. The first thing you will learn is how to sail in and out of your slip with sails alone - a very handy thing if ever your engine fails. Besides that - I enjoy it much better. Being aware of the seasonal changes of the wind during the day and night is definitely something worth knowing too. I often see sailboats leaving the harbor with their engines on when a perfectly steady wind is blowing. I'm guessing they just think the wind generally stops blowing after sunset, so they motor out. True, it does generally stop after sunset - for a LITTLE while. Perhaps for half an hour but then it comes back. After this, you have a couple hours of wind before the GREAT CALM happens. In the winter this calm is at 9:00pm and in the summer it's at 11:00pm. So this means that if your not using your engine - make sure you get back before then! After this , the night winds tends to be very sporadic.

Can you believe, that just today, I saw the most beautiful Benetou sailboat - probably a forty footer - call out the Harbor Patrol for an emergency, when all that happened was that their engine died and they were nearing the shoals. Still with a good five minutes left before touching the shoals, they could have just easily raised the jib or main sail and rode away! Okay, I guess its possible that all the sails were raised through electrical means and that this was down too, but I mean, there had to be some manual override - exactly my point for writing this article! I'm not really against engines. But knowing how to go back to basics when things fail is really my point (whether using an engine or what have you).

Here are some additional tips when sailing at night. When sailing with or without an engine, always make sure you have navigation lights and a couple flashlights handy, an extra lantern and a fog horn. After escaping being run down by big party boats many times, I'm glad to tell you one of these will help save your life! One night I put out my lantern, flashed my lights, turned the boat so my navigation lights were obvious and the party boat still didn't see me! So I finally blew the fog horn a couple times and that worked! Thank you God!

Now if the fog horn did not work I could have gone on my VHS radio and hailed the boat on channel 16 and then used my oars to seriously get out of there! I know, yes you would have put on your engine by that time. And that totally makes sense. But if it dies on you, rowing a twenty foot boat and larger is actually possible and will get you somewhere if you're persistent. I mean try it. Get out your oars someday and in a spot where you're not blocking anyone try rowing for ten minutes. The reason I say ten minutes is because rowing can at first seem a really big waste of time. But pick a spot on shore and really watch if you are able to move past it or not. You should be able to go about one mile an hour - which is really slow but you should see the difference in ten minutes. In a real life situation - if you get out your oars soon enough - you should be able to pull away from a possible collision - and at the least turn the boat in a circle so that the oncoming boat sees all your navigation lights and that you are moving and there. Seriously, if your engine ever fails, this exercise could save your life! I'll tell you, one year on a nice evening, the wind started kicking in and gusting and I did what every normal sailor does and took down my sails after getting safely into the harbor. My engine then proceeded to die and for the life of me I couldn't figure out why. So what to do now with the wind gusting twenty knots down the channel and with the inevitable just waiting to happen! I needed to figure something out fast! Well I tried raising my sails, but I couldn't get into the wind like I wanted and with the gusting winds, the mainsail just got stuck. So did the jib. You'll be happy to know that even with the mainsail three quarters up and the jib only up partially, I was able to crawl away from hitting the docked boats and get back to my slip. But it was scary and REALLY stressful! Now from plenty of practice, I know how to sail into my slip even in a storm and using an engine is just one more plus.

Putting Up My Mast - What to and Not to Do!

"We couldn't hold it any longer as we could feel the heaviness of the mast getting the better of us - and fast! We let it down as best as we could and thankfully Victor was able to lower it with the rope and pulley so it didn't crash. If it hadn't been for the pulley rope it probably would have come down with a bang! As it was, it came down at a 45 degree angle to the bow and the top end of it was sitting on another boat owners dock box."

Today, I knew I was going to try and raise my new mast. But I only had myself to do the lifting and that mast is 29 feet of heaviness! I mean, It took my friend Danny and I just to lift it from my car to my boat - but to raise it, would be far more difficult. I suddenly thought of my friend Victor who might want to help me and so I called him. Before I knew it, Victor had called his best friend Sean, and now there were three of us! With a little leverage, the three of us might be able to haul the mast up. Once down at the marina, I got to the task of attaching all the shrouds - except the back stay. The 'new' mast had once been attached to a full keel, Columbia 25. That Columbia 25 had looked very similar to a Catalina 25 - with a flat deck and all. Because my deck was not flat and there was a foot higher cabin top to it, I figured I needed to add a foot more to the shroud rigging. The last time I raised my mast, the starboard lower shroud had been too tight and as the mast was being raised, it snapped the shroud as if it wasn't even there! So I thought that giving the shrouds some extra 'breathing room' was a good idea at the time. Also, my mast was four feet bigger than my old 25 foot mast. After having talked to a boat builder, he told me that a mast could be x1.3 the length of my boat. So if my boat was 22 feet than it can be 22 feet + (1/3) of that - which is about seven additional feet. So adding 7 feet to 22 equals 29 and that is the exact size of the mast. Thank you God for helping me get just the right size - for at that time I hadn't a clue! So now my mast will be maximizing the size limit.

Before raising the mast, I secured the bottom of the mast with heavy rope so that it wouldn't slip and so that it would stay near the mast step. We also needed to raise the boom and secure it on all sides with rope. We would then use the boom for leverage. Passing a long halyard through it from the top of the mast and securing it with a knot at the booms end, we then continued to pull the rope from there and secure it from the boom to the stern. Then taking another halyard from the top of the mast down through an pad eye on the booms end (this time without a knot at the top of the boom) led it to the pulley at the stern of the boat (this halyard we would use to pull the mast up). After this we were then ready. Sean and I would lift the mast up from the mast top end, while Victor - at the other bottom of the mast end - would haul the rope attached to the pulley and make sure the mast went in at the step.The first time we lifted the mast, we got it up a little but it wouldn't go any further and we wondered why. I then realized I had attached a rope to the mast securing it to the bow and had to take that off. Then we got the mast up three quarters of the way and again it wouldn't go any further. This time we realized the back stay was snagged on something and it wasn't free and clear of the port spreaders. So I took it off and unwrapped it and attached it better and then we tried again. I lifted and then Sean went in front of me and lifted and then I went in front of Sean and lifted. Again we got it fairly high (and the boom gave us a lot of leverage) but when the mast got up three quarters, the port and starboard shrouds were not tight enough and the mast began to sway. We couldn't hold it any longer as we could feel the heaviness of the mast getting the better of us - and fast! We let it down as best as we could and thankfully Victor was able to lower it with the rope and pulley so it didn't crash. If it hadn't been for the pulley rope it probably would have come down with a bang! As it was, it came down at a 45 degree angle to the bow and the top end of it was sitting on another boat owners dock box. We then thought that the boom leverage was causing us to fail, so we took it down. Unfortunately without the leverage it provided, the mast seemed to double in weight! And later we realized it wasn't the boom that was causing the problem - it was the extra foot I had added onto the shrouds (they were way to loose). My estimation to add that extra foot to the shrouds seemed to make sense in theory but in real life it somehow was wrong.

So now the mast (instead of lying straight across the bow) was now lying at a weird angle across the bow. It seemed we were creating enough of a sensation that my friend Sergio came out of his boat to help too. Still we could not bring it all the way up! Sean, Sergio and I lifted again but we were getting tired and only got it up a little ways. My friend Brian, who owns a boat near where we were lifting, came out and decided to help pull the halyard attached to the pulley so that Victor would be free to lift too. One would have thought that with the four of us it would be a piece of cake. But without the boom to create leverage, it was very heavy and we failed again.

Altogether, we had let down the mast slowly on the halyard three or four times now. My other friend Augustino came out to give us some advice. He wanted me to give it up, paint the mast while it was still down and lift the mast up with the big crane that is at the dock. But I disagreed and said no, as I wasn't willing to give up quite yet, and besides, I didn't have a $100 to afford the crane either. The negativity was beginning to get the better of us, but we gave the mast one more go, with the six of us. This time a miracle - we got it up! Once it was up, we all held the mast in place at the mast step, trying to get it to fit in the step. It was a very tight fit, so we kept having to move it around until it finally dropped in. At this time we also realized that the shrouds were too loose and I quickly tried to get the slack out of the shrouds but it was really hard as I had to use pliers and I was under a lot of pressure to get it done fast. After getting the shrouds tightened a little, Sergio pulled the back stay tight and tied it down so that the mast was now secure. It had been very stressful for all of us holding the mast up and when we were finally able to let it go without the mast potentially falling, we could all take a deep breath again! We were at last victorious and my friends at the dock departed back to their boats.

My friend Victor, Sean and myself who had come down to get the mast up, now went to a restaurant to get something to eat. After they got some coffee and I some hot chocolate with our meal, Sean and I could barely sit down we were so sore! My whole body ached. The hot drink was nice and I was thankful. We all agreed - we had come an inch from giving up. So that's the story from beginning to end. The only thing I haven't mentioned is how I was able to secure a mast for only $200! That was a feat in itself as new masts are probably more like $2000. My lowest price before finding that really good deal was $500. But asking around at the dock yard where they pull the boats out of the water, gave me a nice lead to a man who buys old boats and cuts them up to sell the parts. But for the amazing price, I had one more cost - that of time. I had to wait a month or so before it was convenient for the man to come down to Marina Del Rey and deliver the mast.

So in the end, I believe it pays to have faith in yourself that you can achieve more than you think you can, to have faith in God and step out believing He will help you connect all the 'dots' you can't see yet. To watch and see without our biases if God is helping you or warning you, to be positive because negativity will drown your aspirations even before you begin, and to be persistent because without it you will never accomplish hard things.



~By Albie
PS: Thanks for all your comments!

Kayaking in a Small Craft Advisory

Spray was coming up all over my dog Buttercup and I and even though I put a blanket over her so she would stay more dry, it was getting crazy and we were getting drenched! It was also raining but I hardly noticed with my hood and baseball cap on.

I'm not sure why I get myself in these situations (yes, I tend to be quite adventurous by nature) and yes, it was exciting, although a little worrisome at one point. Especially the point when I had crossed the channel and I realized on the way back that the wind was blowing really hard against us. At first the wind had seemed to be obviously blowing down the channel upon us from the south but what I now understood was that it was from the south east - right in our face. Even the sheltered marina had white caps on the waves and the wind was blowing so hard I could barely make speed in the kayak against it!

At first, when I set out, the wind and waves were just fine (I mean it was windy still - but not CRAZY!) When I entered the main channel though, the wind was up a notch and I was surprised to see white caps on the small waves. Buttercup's body was covered by an itchy blanket (which surprisingly resists moisture) and she looked so cute with her head sticking out the front! If she hadn't been protected, I wouldn't of even tried to go across the channel. By the time I had paddled half way out, the waves were one to two feet high and breaking white water. I was beginning to feel challenged a bit but not overwhelmed. But by the time I got to the other side, the wind and waves were really taking on a 'mean' appearance. I noticed but I didn't take it to heart because at that point we weren't going into the wind. After letting Buttercup off at a dock to stretch her legs and warm up a little, she then hopped back on the kayak and we set off once more. However, As soon as I turned around and got past the dock is when I realized I could be getting myself into trouble! I was surprised to see that the wind was gusting from the south east and the waves were driving against me in the same direction. So every time I paddled the kayak into a wave, it broke over the bow and shot white spray all over Buttercup's head. 'Poor Butter!' was all I could think - but I had no choice now. It was 'get back wet or not at all!' So I clenched my teeth and paddled on with all my might - each wave getting the two of us wetter and wetter. I swear, I had the same gut feelings of fear and desperation that I get when I sail out into big waves at sea. Three quarters of the way back and I yelled: "we're gonna make it Buttercup!" And soon we had crossed out of the danger zone and into the smaller boat basin. Now that there were no waves to slow us down, we practically coasted down the basin and were back. Buttercup jumped off the kayak onto the dock SO HAPPY TO BE BACK! Within a few minutes, I entered my sailboat cabin drenched. After changing into warmer clothes, I then wrote: "Buttercup and I are just lying back in my boat today after just having gone out kayaking in this crazy rain."

Even though I've done some pretty hair raising things in my kayak like going out to sea at night and overturning in the waves as I washed up on the beach, I have to say that this was unintentionally crazier and 'took the cake' for wild experiences on a kayak! :-D


~Albie
All comments are TRULY welcome!

Sailing Without an Engine - AGAIN!

It was a beautiful evening, the stars were shining, the lights from shore glowed across the water and a healthy wind was blowing. The waves were just a couple feet high and didn't seem to bother Buttercup (my golden lab) who sat near me in the cockpit. But it had not been a bowl of roses getting out here:

Today my friend asked me to take her 30 foot Santana boat out (as she was away and needing someone to check on it). So I found her boat in the dock she had told me of and I set about to find the key. That in itself was a major job - as I couldn't find it - and so kept up the search until finally I remembered one little clue she had told me and I was then able to open the hatch door. Afterwards, I set about the task of getting the jib and main sail set. It was obvious it had not been sailed in a while, so finding the sails took me a while too! The next step was to get the outboard engine turned on, and this too proved difficult! In fact - I couldn't do it. I tried every trick in my 'engine starting' book but it would not turn over. So here I would go again - sailing without an engine! One big problem though: it was a downwind slip and how to get the boat out? I began formulating a plan to kayak out to the opposite dock on the upwind side, tie a rope on the dock cleat and then kayak back, attach the boat to the line and pull the boat out. Putting up the sails, I would then let go of the lines holding the boat to the dock and sail out. And that's more or less what happened after a first try mess up - the first trouble being that I only set the jib (sailing out under jib alone works with me Columbia 22 but not on this bigger Santana 30).
So once out on the water - I was exuberant (I mean after all that work I had almost given up!). It was my first time sailing a thirty foot by myself and though there was an additional eight feet from my Columbia 22, it really did not feel that much different.

The sun was now setting and as I got half way out the harbor, I knew I needed to get the navigation lights on. So I tied down the tiller in my usual fashion* (which I will explain below) and then turned on the battery and lights. But here again I was met with resistance. For every light seemed willing to come on EXCEPT the navigation lights! The boat even had some really cool amber cockpit lights that helped maintain night vision. That was all super great but without the essentials, I felt frustrated again! Thankfully I had thought ahead and put some emergency nav. lights in my backpack and now attached these to the port and starboard side and lit my lantern for the stern light. So, armed with this, I then headed out to sea. It was peaceful to be sailing over the waves again by myself. I had not been out by myself since I lost my mast in that storm about a month or so ago. And so after a pleasant sail over the dark waves, I returned back to the harbor and coming upwind, lowered the mainsail, and then cruised back under jib alone into the boat slip.

"Nicely done!" A friendly man on another boat yelled across the water. I took that as a compliment and was encouraged for all the hard work I had done to get the boat out today!