Tiger Point Marina and Boatworks,
Fernandina Beach, Florida
Hello everyone. Once again, I apologize for so much time passing between posts. I'm hopeful such long pauses are behind me. What follows is part one of my 'catch-up' story; where Jo Beth is now, where we are with her, and what's in store for the future. Thank you for sticking with us.
Bill Ballard
11/26/2011
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On a balmy Sunday evening in middle August, as hurricane Irene lumbered through the northwestern Caribbean, approaching the islands of the Turks and Caicos, and southern Bahamas, I watched with a mix of interest and growing concern. I take hurricanes very seriously; having endured three of the damn things, Andrew among them, I am wary.
The southeastern coast of the US, including all of Georgia, a smattering of northeast Florida, and plenty of South Carolina had been contained within the forecast track of the storm, aptly called “The Cone of Uncertainty,” for several days. Dead center, with little variation for these several days, was the region surrounding Savannah, including Hilton Head Island and Beaufort, South Carolina. The track of the storm wobbled from day to day, but remained relatively consistent. Hurricanes which maintain consistent and persistent tracks are worrisome.
We had planned to haul Jo Beth for bottom painting and other minor maintenance in September or October at Hinckley Yacht Services in Savannah. As I watched Irene remain steadfastly on course, I decided Jo Beth needed to be hauled much sooner. Savannah lay 75 miles due north from our marina slip in Brunswick, as the crow flies. As the boat sails, the distance was closer to 100 miles. There was always the chance the storm would pass us by.
Between our slip in Brunswick and the Hinckley Service dock in Savannah, lay 100 miles of Atlantic Ocean, salt water marshes, and brackish rivers. With a large cyclonic storm approaching the area, swells would be building and winds would be steadily clocking around to the northeast. A beat for sure, or a motor sail directly into the wind. The swell would be rising as well.
The ICW (Intracoastal Waterway) was another option, but due to a lack of maintenance and dredging, Jo Beth with her 5’ draft would surely touch bottom in a couple of spots. Sailing on the ICW is limited as well; any engine trouble or a grounding, and my problems would grow exponentially.
Tiger Point Marina and Boatworks lay to the south in Fernandina Beach, Florida. This is much closer to our home marina -- approximately 40 miles total from slip to service dock. The run outside would be easier as well; out St. Simons channel, turn south, sail to and enter the St. Marys channel. The distance from sea buoy to sea buoy was a scant 24 miles. With expected north easterlies, it would be a fun and fast downwind ride.
As Sunday morphed into Monday, Irene continued on her track unwaveringly. I called Tiger Point at 8:00 a.m. and scheduled the haulout.
Now, I needed crew. Lisa had taken a consulting job in Atlanta some months before and would not be able to join me. After confirming the haulout for Tuesday afternoon, I called our friend James Baldwin. James is a veteran cruising sailor, friend, and excellent yacht repairer and re-fitter. I asked if he could make the trip; he could. I began to relax. Boats don’t do well in the water during hurricanes. If Irene paid a visit, Jo Beth would be safely ashore.
We were originally hauling for routine maintenance and a few odd jobs; among them were bottom painting; the replacement of the cutlass bearing and the propeller shaft seal; and the installation of a galvanic isolator. (The galvanic isolator was being installed to resolve our issue with electrolysis discussed in the previous post, 'Wasting Away.' Even after extensive testing by two very competent marine electricians, we were not able to isolate the problem. Thus, we decided to install the isolator during the yard period.) Boats being boats, there are always a multitude of jobs that need doing, but for us, these were most pressing. The trip to the boat yard changed all that, somewhat.
Those jobs were still done, but the off-shore passage to the boatyard revealed much more that needed doing, particularly to the running rigging. ‘Running rigging’ refers to the general network of ropes, lines, blocks, and cleats that are necessary for proper and efficient sail handling and control.
Prior to the trip I was very aware that a good deal of the running rigging aboard Jo Beth was ready for replacement. As James and I sailed out into St. Simons Sound, setting the yankee and mainsail, much was revealed. Initially, the forecast was for light easterly winds of 5 to 10 knots, increasing and backing to the east-northeast at 15 knots by afternoon. What we actually had in the sound was a stiff easterly breeze of 15 knots. As we entered the St. Simons Bar Channel and headed offshore the winds increased to 20 knots and shifted to the east-southeast.
One of the running rigging components most in need of replacement was the mainsheet traveler. The mainsheet traveler is a slightly curved track which is fitted across the cabin roof. A car slides on the track from left to right, controlling the position of the boom and mainsail relative to the centerline of the boat. Attached to this car, through a network of blocks, is the mainsheet, the line which controls the mainsail.
Long before reaching the terminus of the channel, with James at the tiller, I put a single reef in the mainsail. Reefing is the same as shortening the sail; it reduces the amount of sail surface exposed to the wind, thus reducing the loading and strain on the entire boat. The easterly winds were in opposition to the outgoing tide and had created short, blocky, and steep waves. As Jo Beth pounded headlong into the short but solid walls of water, the mainsheet would jerk on the traveler car, lifting it nearly free of the track. Reefing the sail helped ease the loading on the traveler, but still, to see the small car dancing about the track, rising and falling with the swell, was unnerving. If it failed, we would not be able to control the mainsail.
James and I didn’t say anything for several long seconds. Finally, he asked “has your traveler always been that loose?” I watched it snap up and down. “It needs to be replaced," I admitted sheepishly. He glanced towards me, looking slightly pensive, countering the motion of the boat with the tiller. “Yes,” he finally said in his usual flat tone, “I think you should replace your traveler. Soon.” The traveler car continued its dance. "Actually," I began, "there's lots that needs to be done with the running rigging." James smiled slightly. "Yes," he agreed, "there is."
As we turned south so did the wind, putting itself nearly on the nose. It increased in velocity as well, to 25 knots with the occasional gust likely exceeding 30 knots. In order to hold our course, we put a second reef in the mainsail and turned on the motor, motor-sailing and beating into the seas and wind. Remarkably, the seas didn’t increase much beyond the four foot average, though frequently a six footer would roll under us. Occasionally, one or two eight footers would hit us on the nose too. Each time they did, Jo Beth would effectively stop, fall into the trough and then gathering herself, step out and build her speed once again.
James is an accomplished sailor, with two and a half circumnavigations of the globe in a 28’ Pearson Triton under his belt. He is completely immune to seasickness. I am not and after the second reef was in, I was stricken. I spent the rest of the trip lying prone in the cockpit, the exception being two 10 minute feed-the-fishies sessions. Soon thereafter, we made our turn and entered the St. Marys channel - in near flat calm conditions – having used that double reefed sail nearly the whole way in. (Actually, James shook out the second reef at some point during the run. I’m presuming it was one of the times my head was over the side.) As we entered the channel at mid point, the wind simply vanished. Less than seven hours after leaving our slip at Brunswick Landing Marina, Jo Beth was being blocked ashore at Tiger Point Marina.
The yard period was completed without a hitch. Jo Beth was relaunched, and on a nearly windless Saturday in mid-October, Lisa and I motored north to Brunswick in a nearly flat calm sea. Upon arrival, we topped off her fuel tank and secured her in her slip, knowing we would be dockbound for the next several months.
Hurricane Irene eventually did bypass Savannah and the immediate coasts of Florida and South Carolina, but only by 275 miles. That’s not far in the world of hurricanes; had Irene been a more symmetrically shaped storm, or slipped her course a mere 1/2 of one degree to the west, Savannah and Hilton Head would have likely fared a bit worse than just the few hours of near gale conditions and moderate beach erosion they experienced.
One pleasant surprise was the discovery that our insurance company, Boat/US, would cover half of the cost of our haulout. A provision in our policy provides reimbursement for one-half the cost of a haulout when an area where an insured vessel is located is actively threatened by an approaching storm. Yet one more reason to insure your vessel with a dedicated marine insurer.
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'A Traveler's Tale, Part II' will be posted next weekend. See you then!
