Monthly Archives: May 2013

25 May 13

“What was THAT?!”

“That” turned out to be the start of a memorable weekend. At the moment, though, the thought was that Kate somehow had managed to sit straight up in the vee-berth without hitting her head. It was dark. The wind was still blowing. She was facing sternward, wearing a distinct look of concern. It is worth noting that Kate typically sleeps like a rock when we’re at anchor, her skipper being the one aware, it seems, of every swing, who mentally catalogs every creak and moan. But in this instance, he mumbled a less than fully conscious, “What’s what? I didn’t hear anything,” and rolled over

“A bump or thud or something.” Wakefulness was still a ways off but, with that, she had succeeded in seizing his attention. Apart from the nor’westerly that continued to blow a gale, nothing notable.

Then, “There it is again.” And with that, Steadfast came alive.

This was the Friday of Memorial Day weekend, the first overnight together in ten months, since the seventeen days that culminated and celebrated a fourteen-week cruise to Blue Hill, Maine, and back. Most of that trip was single-handed, ’til Kate came aboard in Rockport, MA, and from there to Blue Hill was just a great experience.

Back in Hallieford, the weather this spring had been most Maine-like, cool, damp and blustery the way it can be Down East at times. But with a dry and fairly warm day here and there, the boat had been made ready; she was now stocked and the galley provisioned; and we were itchin’ to get underway, even with the overnight low expected to be a chilly 50 degrees. The plan was to cross the Bay in tandem with friends on other boats, spending the long weekend at a couple of favorite harbors. That is, until the sky turned grey and NOAA warned of rain with 40-knot winds overnight. Phooey. “We’re not going to Cape Charles today.”

But the galley was stocked, the ice box cold and we re-e-e-e-e-ally wanted to get underway. So, hey! Let’s just motor out of the slip, up the creek a bit and drop the hook there. The cove is 8′ deep, mud bottom and well-protected from the northerly that continued to build.

Looking east down Queens Creek toward Hills Bay and Gwynn’s Island.

It’d been done many a sweltering summer evening, just to feel the boat swing at anchor. You know. There’d never been a problem, even if a squall came through, not with the 30′ of chain plus the nylon twist. No problem at all since moving up to the Delta 22 for the Maine trip. We ought to be fine.

The first sprinkles fell as the anchor splashed about 1330 Friday afternoon. Kate snubbed the rode, we backed down, then payed out more–65-70′–and we backed down again. A steady 20-25 knots, gusts to 35, and we watched the rode stay fairly taut. We’d check the landmarks every few minutes, all afternoon, through cocktails and dinner, and of course, before turning in. Every reason to believe we’d be…fine!

Then the “wake up call” at 0130, the muffled thud that spurred us to action. Bolting from bunk to ladder, the hatch opened to a cold blast of air and the all too obvious cause of the “thud.” Steadfast dragged, alright (we learned later that gusts had been upwards of 60 knots) a hundred yards or so until the Bimini strap at the starboard quarter had snagged–get this–a dinghy davit on the Dickerson 41 “Plover” who lay quietly in her slip! Steadfast lightly tapped the Dickerson’s port quarter.

Dressed and on deck in seconds, engine fired and as she awakened, Kate took up the slack on the rode, I released the Bimini strap from the davit, turned to the wheel and we motored slowly forward. The dance continued as Kate came aft to the wheel, I moved forward up the other side deck and hauled in the anchor. Once secured, there was no question in the cockpit what to do next. With the wind and the cold, “Let’s just go back to the slip.”

Steadfast was secure, heart beats and breathing were back to normal, by a little after 2. A lot happened in that little span of time. It was just dumb luck that 1) Plover’s dink was stowed elsewhere, 2) the nylon Bimini strap held, and 3) Steadfast drifted there and not a few feet farther up stream where she’d have run up on the mud and overhanging tree limbs would’ve snarled the rig.

Steadfast beats across the Bay toward Cape Charles for a Dark & Stormy night!

And “that” is the lesson: don’t leave it to luck, as in, no matter how much you’re itchin’ to get underway, if you know it’s gonna blow a gale, don’t leave the slip. Sheeeeeesh.

BTW…after a good night’s sleep, Steadfast did get underway as the wind moderated some in the morning. During the gale of the day and night before, a good sized sloop grounded on the shoal off Gwynn’s Island, another was dismasted off Windmill Point. We beat to Cape Charles and enjoyed Dark & Stormy’s that night at Kelley’s.