Speaking of Groundings, or the most stupid thing I did this past Summer!

[Greg Ross]

Had a misadventure this past Summer with the new (to me) I 31. My cruising Waters are East Coast Canada, Northumberland Strait area between PEI, NB and NS. We had set off on our first extended/ overnight trip with the new boat sailing a section of coast we had done previously on our little Cape Dory.
Installed but not commissioned was a new GPS Map with the local Map cartridge, had done the install minus connecting power the week between the wedding and our Honeymoon departure. A true test of a relationship!
About 45 minutes after high tide I/ we managed to drive the boat onto a Shoal about a 1/3 of a mile off the Coast of PEI. Having sailed this shore previously with a shallower draft boat I had not done a detailed Chart review, and we did have the paper charts aboard to make one feel really inadequate!
I had prepared a departure package of Tide Times and hourly water heights charts from Environment Canada. Quick check revealed the night tide was only going to be about 90% of the tide height we'd just driven in on. The forecast for that night was for winds and rain, we had to get off. I didn't bring the Dink so kedging wasn't an option.
Got on the VHF and the Passenger Ferry, "Confederation" responded to my "Pan, Pan, Pan". Asked if we were on Indian Rocks, and I confirmed "Yes" The radioman indicated he would attempt to get a Fisherman out of Wood Island to come out to assist us. About one hour later we're very glad to see a Cape Island/ local Lobster Boat come out past the breakwater. By this point we're hard aground and healing probably 15 degrees.
Fishermen don't tow a dory so since he and I had not spoken before his leaving Port (mistake No 2) there was no means to get a line aboard. I had by this point rigged about four hundred feet of tow line connected ultimately to the main haylard. The shoal we were on was about 150' wide and 600' long roughly. The falling tide produced a substantial current over these shallows, 1-2 knots est.
Our new friend had tried a float on the end of several hundred feet of nylon line but could not get directly above us due to the shape and length of the Shoal. I told Jamie I was going to have to get in the water and swim to the Tow Boat. She insisted she would do better in the water then I with a Bad Hip, so Life Vest on and a light line in tow over the side she went. After several minutes of swimming against the tide we decided she would have to drop the line and free swim. She swam perpendicular across the current and got ahold od the Tow boats' float.
Same problem prevailed, with the drag of the Line she couldn't make any way across/ against the current. On the VHF Jimmy, our Fisherman and I decided the only option was to tow Jamie "Up-Current" and let her swim back to me diagonally across the current. I attempted to yell/ convey to Jamie what we were planning to do but the message was not understood. She later described it as something akin to the pull off the beach when attempting to Water Ski at a young age.
By the time Jamie got back along side she'd been in the water for an hour and the boat was over 30-40 degrees.
I had a rope ladder over the side and Jamie passed me the Line. I removed the Float/ fender and connected/ tied off his nylon to my tow rope. I no sooner dropped the knotted line in the Water then Capt. Jimmy Bell took off. Jamie bellowed, "get me out of the Water"! Got her aboard and then moved back to the high side (boat laid down to port) where I had my tow line nested in roughly 100' coils on the tops of the stanchions.
Leading up to this the fisherman had expressed concerns about ripping the Rig right off the Boat, I assured him it was a robust Rig and was the only way we were getting off in one piece. Between getting Jamie back on deck and from the low to the high side of the boat I was nearly tangled in the Tow Line, twice! a frightening prospect!
As the Line came taught the boat pivoted 90 degrees as he was at that point immediately off our Stern, and away we went. Via VHF I kept up a conversation advising Jimmy of the relative depth as I viewed it. We were shipping water over the coaming, healed now 60 to 70 degrees and hanging on. Once the water depth looked Ok we had Jimmy back off on the power.
While shipping water into the cockpit I had been totally unconcerned with the scupper drains to carry away that water. What I did not consider was the vents outboard of the coaming for the aft space. A 3" diameter hole can ingest alot of water in a short time. When we came upright we had the cabin sole awash. Pumped it out immediately and declined Jimmys' offer of a Tow. The Yanmar started right up, I had to shut her down immediately remembering I had closed all the Seacocks including "engine cooling"
Once alongside in the port of Wood Island we found wetness all the way forward as far as the hanging locker port side. Dragged out all the damp material to dry on the Cabin Top and I'm thinking to myself, "this is the end of Jamie's recreational sailing career" She was tired and pretty shaken, she'd saved the Boat! Capt. Jimmy would not accept a penny for the Services rendered, and I offered twice. Subsequently picked up a Gift Certificate from the local commercial marine store, that will find it's way to Mr. Bell in a X-mas card.
I dove the keel and could see nothing but a few scrapes in the black Anti-Fouling" The evidence of the extent of heel we experienced was there for the viewing about a half a foot above the Boot Top Stripe. There were several parallel slim scars in the gelcoat where barnicales on the top of a rock had touched the Hull. We felt no bumps or lifts while under tow.
Unknowingly, or unwittingly, I had intended that we be towed by the starboard side but the current laid us to port.
The only sustaining damage, the Frigibar Compressor/ Control module had gotten wet. It was installed high up against the U/S of the deck, port side. It did come back to life with a little encouragement but died permanently about a week later.
We laid up the next day and by the third day out were heading for Nova Scotia across the Straight. My Lady, she is a Trooper, we were still talking and the marriage had survived. She's doing her Power Squadron Course this Winter, has absolutely no faith in my navigating skills obviously!

 

[Rob Hessenius]

Groundings

Greg- Great read for us. I forget that you guys and gals have to deal with tides all the time. Glad to hear that all went well and you're not going to have to re-name your boat, "She Got The House" Rob Hessenius

 

[Jason]

Great read. Thanks for taking the time to write it up and share with the rest of us.
I hope never to be grounded, but if it ever happens, I have a few new ideas thanks to your write-up.

 

[treilley]

USPS has some great courses. My wife and I have completed up through advanced nav together. I highly recommend doing them together.

 

[Loren Beach]

Shoal water excitement

Couple of decades ago I helped in the un-grounding of an Islander 28 (5 foot draft) in the lower Columbia River estuary. Tide was falling and he was stuck hard in sand and mud. No real danger to the boat, but it would have been 12 hours or more before getting a chance to float off.

A small boat took a spinnaker halyard from them, with a longer line tied to it for length, and motored striaght away from the side. At the point where the side deck went under water, the draft was reduced enough to drive/float her off. The I-28 was using her A-4 and another smaller boat was acting as a tug to pull her in the direction of the deeper water.

Good entertainment and a story that got that skipper a "special" award at their YC annual dinner that fall....


Loren in PDX

ps: I hope that Jamie also got a nice gift certificate later...

 

[Rocinante33]

Groundings

They say there are two types of sailors;

Those who have run aground & those who WILL run aground.

Many of us are in the first group!

Keith:redface:

 

[MarkA]

Does crewing count?

I was working on a crab boat in Alaska when it ran aground in 1978. I'm hoping that experience counts, so I don't have to run my own boat aground.

 

[Randy Rutledge]

IF you have never run agroung you have never been anywhere.

A mast top pull from the side was a cure for my situation. When she laid over and the keel lifted it was amazing how fast the little boat went backward when a 29 moved off and stands up straight with the A4 at full throttle.

 

[Lawdog]

A Hinckley heads south, sort of

I had anchored our chartered sailboat off St. John Island in the VIs and swam to shore with one of my crew, to hang out and walk along the beach. I began explaining to Ragnhild, my blonde Norwegian crew, about different sailboats, and pointed out a beautiful black hulled Hinckley near shore, whose crew was just raising the sails to head out of the harbor in perfect 12 to 15 kt breezes. The sun was bright in the sky, the water temp was 83 and the air was 83, and you could see the anchor on the bottom in 30 feet of water. How could sailing be any better? I explained that the Hinkley was a very expensive yacht, on charter like us, and the crew were going to tack any second, to avoid the reef in front of them, and to watch closely as they obviously had to know how to tack properly, unlike my drunk (but happy) charter guests. As we continued to watch, she asked me "Why they not tacking?" and I kept repeating "any second, any second......they have to, there's a reef right in front of them! Then I started screaming from the beach: "There's a reef in front of you...TACK TACK!!!!" but the distance was too far. As if on cue, the beautiful black Hinckley, now cruising about 7 kts, smashed into the reef. People fell to the deck, and the rig was shaking all over the place. Ragnhild asked "why they not tack?" I laughed, but couldn't explain. My shouting had attracted a crowd on the beach, and all hell was breaking loose. Some other yachts had already started to dinghy over to the grounded yacht and offer assistance. We continued to watch...... and drink from the beach. In about 15 minutes, a huge tug arrived. I had to watch what was going to happen now. The tug was on the outside of the reef and the Hinckley had run aground from the inside. I told Ragnhild that the tug was going to have to come in real close to shore and pull the boat backwards off the reef, but then I saw a crewmember from the tug, launch a beat up tender and motor to the yacht and throw a line to the bow of the Hinckley from the outside of the reef. I assumed they had local knowledge and could safely do this. Two people stayed on the Hinckley and the rest of their crew evacuated with bags of clothing and luggage. I guess they had their doubts too. Finally the tug made the tow line taught and started dragging the yacht over the reef. You could see the sea churned up behind the tug as it throttled up. The Hinckley was heeled over to about 40 degrees and being dragged. The reef was pummeling the Hinckley as it dragged it over the ragged coral. You could actually hear the noise from the rig. The boat was jumping and popping in the air as the tug kept pulling. I couldnt believe my eyes. All of a sudden the rig righted itself and the boat was free of the reef on the outside. I was amazed. The crowd on the beach was amazed, and Ragnhild was amazed....and a little drunk. Then it started to sink! Slowly the bow started heading down, down, down, followed by the stern. The two crew jumped off, and into the tender, now alongside. The boat finally rested on the bottom with the water to the lower spreaders and the rest of the mast and rig out of the water. I will never forget that amazing scene. Unfortunately I had no camera to post it to america's most amazing videos, or utube, but I still see it all happening again in my memory.

Neal
Enterprise
E38

 

[Lawdog]

I had anchored off St. John Island in VIs and had swam to shore with one of my crew, to hang out and walk along the beach. I began explaining to Ragnhild, my blonde Norwegian crew, about different sailboats, and pointed out a beautiful black hulled Hinckley near shore, whose crew was just raising the sails to head out of the harbor in perfect 12 to 15 kt breezes. The sun was perfectly bright in the sky, the water temp was 83 and the air was 83, and you could see the anchor on the bottom in 30 feet of water. How could it be any better? I explained that the Hinkley was on charter, like us, and the crew were going to tack any second, to avoid the reef in front of them, and to watch closely as they obviously had to know how to tack properly, unlike my drunk (but happy) charter guests. As we continued to watch, she asked me "Why they not tacking?" and I kept repeating "any second, any second......they have to, there's a reef right in front of them! Then I started screaming from the beach: "There's a reef in front of you...TACK TACK!!!!" but the distance was too far. As if on cue, the beautiful black Hinckley, now cruising about 7 kts, smashed into the reef, people fell to the deck, and the rig was shaking all over the place. Ragnhild asked "why they not tack?" I laughed, but couldn't explain. My shouting had attracted a crowd on the beach, and all hell was breaking loose. Some other yachts had already started to dinghy over to the grounded yacht and offer assistance. We continued to watch...... and drink from the beach. In about 15 minutes, a huge tug arrived. I had to watch what was going to happen now. The tug was on the outside of the reef and the Hinckley had run aground from the inside. I told Ragnhild that the tug was going to have to come in real close to shore and pull the boat back off the reef, but then I saw a crewmember from the tug launch a beat up tender and motor to the yacht and throw a line to the Hinckley from the outside of the reef. I assumed they had local knowledge and could safely do this. Two people stayed on the Hinckley and the rest of their crew evacuated with bags of clothing and luggage. I guess they had their doubts too. Finally the Tug made the tow line taught and started dragging the yacht over the reef. The Hinckley was heeled over to about 40 degrees. The reef was pummeling the Hinckley as it dragged it over the ragged coral. You could actually hear the noise from the rig. The boat was jumping and popping in the air as the tug kept pulling. I couldnt believe my eyes. All of a sudden the rig righted itself and the boat was free of the reef on the outside. I was amazed. The crowd on the beach was amazed, and Ragnhild was amazed....and a little drunk. Then it started to sink! Slowly the bow started heading down, down, down, followed by the stern. The two crew jumped off, and into the tender, now alongside. The boat finally rested on the bottom with the water to the lower spreaders and the rest of the mast and rig out of the water. I will never forget that amazing scene. Unfortunately I had no camera to post it to america's most amazing videos, or utube, but I still can see it all happening again in my memory.

Neal
Enterprise
E38

 

[Galley_Slave]

Here on the Chesapeake, a good grounding story is told with a certain amount of pride.... and nearly EVERYONE (with a sailboat) runs aground. The Chesapeake is pretty shallow except for the shipping channel.

Ain't no barnacles on the bottom of our keels.

We've even run aground IN the marked channel near our marina a couple times.

 

[rwthomas1]

Our marina is in Allen Harbor, a small harbor accessed by a very narrow channell, maybe 30yards in places. The channel runs E-W and if you deviate N or S you will run sharply aground as the depth changes quickly from 6-7ft at low tide to 2-3ft. If you run aground you can get out and walk to shore.

I happened to be sitting on the beach just south of the channel watching boat traffic just last summer. A small sailboat, maybe 25ft sailed into the harbor and then out again immediately. When it got to the second set of channel marker bouys, about halfway the length of the channel the skipper decided to make a hard turn to port, due North.

As can be expected he ran hard aground just outside the channel. The problem was made worse as the wind was blowing pretty well and it just kept dragging him shallower and shallower until he was heeled over at 45*. Watching the crew scurry around was amusing. They didn't bother trying to drop the sails, they just kept throwing the anchor off the stern and then trying to kedge themselves off. Didn't work to well without a dink and with the sails up. Sea Tow has an office right at the mouth of the harbor and they could clearly see the whole thing. After maybe a half hour or so Sea Tow motored out maybe 200 yards and towed them off.

I understand accidents happen and people run aground because they don't know where they are. What scares me is this guy could be that clueless. The channel is very clearly marked. The delineation from shallows to channel is pretty clearly seen in water color. There were clamdiggers up to their thighs raking the mud all the way out on either side of the channel that day. Pretty scarey.
RT

 

[ptucker]

The Jesus effect

Reminds me of an incident in my teens. The village I grew up in in Scotland was on the Firth of Forth. As hardy youngsters, swimming off the pier was good summer sport. It was however very much a wetsuit clad affair. One day during the summer break, we had been swimming and were sitting on the end of the pier enjoying the (rare) sun.

The pier protects the harbour from the south westerly prevailing wind but the eastern side of the harbour is open except for a rock reef which is exposed at low water. The largest rock is opposite the end of the pier, creating a narrow channel. The nice people there though have marked the rock at either end with poles.

As we sat on the pier, we watched a small trailer sailer with full family on board head towards the harbour. As he approached it became clear that the skipper thought the poles marked the entrance to the harbour, not danger. After trying to shout a warning to the boat and failing and as we were still geared up for swimming we decided to do the honourable thing.
A friend and I dived in and swam across to the rock, which was now about 5 inches under water. As the boat was about 30 - 40' away, we climbed on to the rock to tell the skipper to turn. Standing in 5'' of water about 150 yards from shore, we again shouted to the boat.

Obviously the sight of two teenagers 'walking on water' distracted the skipper who simply stared at us unbelievingly. He continued to watch the 'miracle' until his boat came to an abrupt and noisy halt as it hit the rock about 10 feet from us.

Made me smile for the rest of the day though.