I think this is the third time trying the spinnaker alone. Still quite a dramatic undertaking but getting better. Videos ensue, including a time lapse of the dousing drama. Upwind work first, then spinnaker up, last dousing.
Category: Sailing
Mid May update
I’ve seen lots of good (but slow) progress over the past couple of weeks. I did some sailing up the Coast, into San Francisco Bay and back home. I took out, repaired, and re-installed the code 0 halyard; these repairs are temporary at best, and I’m likely going to need to replace some of these halyards.
The solo mast climbing gear from ATN, Inc. is really paying for itself (it’s my 6th trip up). I also used it to install a Windex windvane (the old one had gone AWOL).
Sorting out a viable electrical system
I also started putting my teeth into the electrical system. In particular, I’ve made progress on the solar panel front; once a bunch of orders arrive I should be able to mount a bus, run a few cables, and have 3 mobile solar panels (i.e. I’m not going to permanently fix them).
As far as the hydrogenerators go, we’ve finalized the design for the bracket, which we’ll use to mount the hydrogenerators to the sugar scoop. Fabrication will start soon. In parallel I ran some testing on the possibly damaged hydrogenerator and converter (I’ll be sending the HG to France for fixing/revision but we think the converter is good).
Big!
I’ve started playing with the big headsails. I doublehanded Changabang with someone who knows what he’s talking about. In about two hours we hoisted the gennaker, the code O and the heavy spinnaker. Back home, I tried the gennaker with success. See video below and a screenshot of the electronics. This is still without using the internal ballast.
But today I wanted to try the big spinnaker. It was much trouble to get set up for the hoist, what with the foot catching water, lots of water. In the end, when I pulled on the spinnaker sock halyard, it was really hard to pull it up. So I bailed out, sorted the sail at home; and now we wait for the next opportunity (that is, after a small tear is fixed).
Obstacle course
I somehow thought that sailing out of Pillar Point Harbor was going to be easy. I’m learning that it’s a bit of an obstacle course out there. As I exit the marina I have to contend with reefs (well signaled), crab pots, fishing boats, whales, kelp patches, and further cargo ships. When I come back docking is fairly straightforward. Except that lately, with the wind blowing from the South, I had to develop new techniques. Live and learn, and use fenders!
Wear and tear
As I start to get familiar with Changabang, she shows me plenty of little things that need attention. It really never stops! On a good note my partnership with the good fellows at PredictWind is being extended to include the hardware for tracking (YB3i); I’m down for the monthly bill. Good stuff. On this good note, stay safe!
First time with the spinnaker
As I shared yesterday I went out to try out one of the two spinnakers. The hull had just received a clean up job, so we were pretty as could be, Changabang and I. She’s been in much more competent hands before, so I hope she’s all right with my foolish beginnings!
And so, I hooked up the main halyard, started the engine, slipped in reverse to spring off the docks, then powering forward. I raised the mainsail as we passed green buoy #3. Every time I raise that mainsail, and it has to slide just right between the lazy jacks lines and the running backstays, I wonder what it’ll be like if one day I have to raise it without the engine.
Getting ready
Changabang came with two spinnakers: a light one and a heavy one (reef-able). A few days ago I got the heavy one out of the bag and hoisted it in its sock to see what it looked like: it was reefed. I got the spinnaker sheets out as well, and started rigging the whole thing:
- Rig the sheets (I passed them through the eye of the block instead of the sheave!);
- Attach the tack line, the sheets and the halyard to the spinnaker;
- Secure tack to the end of the bowsprit;
- Trim the active sheet all the way in and the lazy one loose.
It looked like everything was ready for the show. And so I proceeded. I went back to the cockpit to start hoisting the spinnaker, only to find out that the sock got stuck in the shrouds. So I move to the mast to guide the sock as I hoist it up. As I was doing so … The sock’s bucket started going up too. I had forgotten about the sock halyard: it was still all bundled up and going up with the bucket. So now there was no way to get the sock down and, more troublesome, no way to stop it from going up!
Drama unfolds
I’m now at the mast with a spinnaker 2/3 up and half out of the sock. I’m still holding onto the halyard. Although this spinnaker is as small as can be and it’s only blowing 8-10 kts, it soon proves too much and the halyard starts slipping from my hand. On my bottom I move back to the halyard’s clutch, while the line keeps on slipping from my hand. Finally I manage to secure the halyard: the spinnaker’s foot is dragging in the water but we’re fine.
Recovery
Ok, so time to finish the hoist. Man, winching these lines is a lot of work! Like I wrote last week … the skipper’s physique is not up to the task! We’ll figure out dousing this sail later on. Let’s put it to work. Ease the sheet; come up a little (we were sailing for the Half Moon Bay beach!): ah, the boat starts powering up, nice! But … Better get this puppy down now quickly! The forecast was calling for >15 kts. Just like the code 0 it didn’t fly much.
Dousing
I figured I might as well try a letterbox drop. I trim the sheet back in tight and blow the tack. That’s when the magic of gravity happened! The sock, under the spell of the bucket’s weight, came back down. Oh, oh, maybe we can try this again! And try we did: secure the tack and hoist the bucket the proper way. Come up a little, apparent wind forward, we start heeling. Good stuff! But what’s this, the wind is climbing past 11 kts. As the forecast was calling for >15 kts, I decide to take no risk and to douse for good. Trim the sheet tight, blanket the spinnaker behind the mainsail, blow the tack, pull the bucket down. Ouch, it gets stuck in the shrouds up there. That wouldn’t be good. A bit of puzzling around and finally it comes down. Halyard down, and the spinnaker goes back into the bag.
Home run
During all that time I had the engine on, just in case. I turned around, got the solent out of the bag and sailed back up to port. As a thick fog settles in, the promise of 15 kts evaporates; the wind dwindles to 6 kts, 4, then 2. All the sails come down, and I’m back on the iron genny. Practicing is not only about sailing: I go down to cook some food (i.e. boil water and pour it down a bag). Lunch time is:
Docking back into port went well. So next I tidy up the boat, and back home it is. Here’s a little movie to close:
On other fronts
I think I may have the satellite communication sorted out. Changabang came with a handheld sat phone (Iridium 9555), which I’ve tested to work. There’s also a fixed sat terminal (BEAM RST100), which also works. It has an external antenna. I bought a used Iridium GO on eBay. That also tested positively; with a cable adapter I hooked it up to the external antenna: I then was able to download a small (tiny, 0.6 KB) grib file. Hurray: that was one big ticket on the list. I’m now pondering whether I should sell the BEAM RST100 for another Iridum GO. I’m being advised to keep the handheld for the ditch bag.
The one piece of puzzle is the SIM card. They rarely fail but it’s a risk; the only back up here is having a few other SIM cards. This also means that I would need to be able to activate it while at sea. So basically, I need to leave with two active SIM cards!
There were other small jobs I took care of, such as doing winch maintenance (2 down, 3 to go), refueling, figuring out a bracket for the hydrogenerators (work in progress), etc.
What’s next you ask?
What’s wrong with these pictures?
The weather seemed to cooperate, with winds in the 8-11 kts so I decided to give the spinnaker a go. Things went sideways in unexpected ways. Nothing broke so check out these pictures and tell me what’s wrong. I’ll provide the answers in a few days.
The usual conditions
Finally, I went sailing with the idea of practicing in stronger breeze. I reconnected with the usual conditions of the San Francisco Coast. Wind was between 15-26 kts during the whole afternoon and soon a thick fog joined us.
Read on for a fun graphical at the end.
Slip those lines!
Getting out of the slip solo proved harder than I thought. There was a constant 12-14 kts wind blowing me into the dock. Changabang has a lot of freeboard, and with the mainsail rigged and ready to hoist to boost, we presented a lof of windage. My first idea was to push the boat hard off the dock, jump on the boat, and power out. Well, that didn’t work. Changabang was now about half way out of her slip and still against the dock. I doubled the stern line to a cleat, and started motoring in reverse. Ever so slowly Changabang started to point up against the wind. More power, a little more. More power still and I am starting to feel good that I may have enough leeway to get out of the slip without dragging along the dock.
Switch to neutral, forward, power up, let go of the dock line. Boom we’re out, powering straight for the boats on the other side of the fairway. Slow down, get the line back in, turn and voilà: “en route pour de nouvelles aventures”!
Hoist them sails
After motoring out of the harbor and into the ocean, it’s time to hoist sails. I’m not sure what the boat can take in the forecast conditions, 20-25 kts from NNW. So the mainsail goes all the way up. Next, since the solent is rigged, it goes up too (while going downwind to depower it). As I start going upwind it becomes quickly clear that the solent is too much for today, at least without using the ballasts, which I don’t plan to use just yet. I want to learn to sail without them first. Who knows, they may be converted to water reservoirs!
So it’s back downwind and the solent goes down. I pick up the old dacron staysail, rig it. Now, it’s quite a process working at the bow with the boat slamming into the waves and sometimes fairly large rollers. So I start using my tether. As I am working at the bow I pick up the upper lifeline for a good handhold and … it lets go! There was a small lashing where there should have been a stainless steel pin, and it broke. So it’s time to look for a bit of dyneema line for a temporary lashing.
Then we’re ready to hoist, which goes just fine (except that later I’ll discover that I had the halyard twisted once on the removable headstay … live and learn!). For today, my work on the halyard repair seems to hold (I sewed a 48 plaits Dyneema chafe sleeve over the chafed cover).
Yeah, the only way from here is up
I can’t say that anything went wrong. But there’s lots of work to do here. As the afternoon progressed the wind picked up, reefs went up. We were down to 3 reefs in 25 kts. And then the fog kicked in. We made it almost to the San Francisco South Traffic Lane Lighted Bell Buoy, and then turned around. Here are a few findings:
- Anticipation is key with these boats, especially as the wind goes up. We were getting to the point where the staysail was a little too much. It can be reefed, but how? Drop it to deck level, to leeward, while it’s blowing 30 kts apparent, and the boat is healing 25 degrees and slamming? That’d be interesting.
- Reefing the mainsail is a process that I feel I have a good handle on, comparatively that is.
- As the day progressed I started having cramps in biceps, triceps, hands. The physique is not where it needs to be!
- We were not hitting the polars but we were not doing too bad either. However, as soon as the boat starts slamming it is very important to keep the speed up. There were (too long) moments spent doing 3-5 kts for a while, trying to get back up to speed.
- Tacking, so easy. Not. The process I have put down only works so so. I have to cross-sheet the jib sheets as the primary winches are also used for the running backstays. So it goes like this. Preparation: cross-sheet active jib sheet to the opposite halyard winch, prepare lazy running backstay, prepare the active backstay for release. Execution: winch up lazy running backstay, hit tack on autopilot, release active running backstay. Clean up: release active jib sheet (the jib is now backwinded) and trim on the opposite side.
- What’s wrong with the picture above? I shouldn’t be backwinded with my jib. I think the autopilot tacking speed is too fast. That or I need to move the running backstay work upstream (i.e. sail with both on while tacking).
- Everything is slow, partly because my fitness is not in line with the needs, partly because I’m learning, partly because everything is big and I’m solo. I’ll say it again: anticipation is key. It’s not good being caught with the wrong sail up on these boats.
Check out this quick video on Youtube of us sailing upwind at the beginning of the afternoon.
Back home
I’m now fairly tired, cramping up, and completely wet. I was reminded that sailing off the Pacific Coast often means cold, wet and tired. I won’t say that I had flashbacks of my practice days with Double Espresso but I might as well (there, just did it). Despite the high freeboard of Changabang, water was still finding its way over. So, around 5PM I decided to turn around and sail back home. I had not the energy to do anything special going downwind so we were slow with the staysail and 3 reefs. Of, and we did a jibe. As time passed, I went on to shake the reefs, arriving with a full mainsail. It’s still blowing 15-19 kts, and the idea of docking in those conditions solo starts bothering me.
Almost safe
The saysail goes down, and is secured to the deck. The engine comes alive (yeah!). I must say that, for now, the most troubling thought about Changabang is: what would I do if the engine died and I’m making my entrance into port (or we’re anywhere close to trouble, really: a beach, a rock jetty, other boats). The mainsail goes down. We make our approach to the marina, rig the docking lines and fenders. In the marina itself, the wind is still above 13 kts, gusting 16-18, and it’s actually coming from astern and into the docks. What this means is that when I’ll slow down in the fairway and start backing the boat I’ll be blown fairly quickly into the opposite docks. So I turn into the wind, power up in reverse. Pfew, tragedy averted, we’re looking good. Slowly motoring into my slip, not hitting anything. We’re half way into the slip, idle in reverse, the wind stops us, and we drift into the docks. Quick, jump, grab a line, get organized. The boat is still in idle in reverse. I man handle her into the slip. All is good!
It’s not over until …
The boat is tidy and the sailor is home. It’s getting dark now. Tidy up the dock lines. Stow the solent back into its bag. Secure the staysail as it will stay out for the night. Cover the mainsail. Tidy more loose ends. And it’s 9:45PM when I get home. A good day, a very good day! I was so tired, I couldn’t sleep that night!
Here’s another video of the afternoon.
Don’t look!
Everywhere I look there’s something wrong. It’s fairly obvious that I am not likely to leave with a boat that is perfect; the money is not there for that. I hope that we will be ready enough. And then it will be up to the “spinning wheel”.
No picture for this mess!
Well, I had big plans but things turned out differently. Forecast looked good for having an overnight fun trip, light winds today, building up tomorrow. I drove to CaB, spent more time doing small jobs, and finally mustered enough energy to get going. Pushing CaB off the docks and casting off solo worked just fine. We motored out, hoisted the big mainsail, and turned off the engine. The plan for the day was to try the Code 0. There is no trying, only doing, says the tiny one.
The Code 0 came out of the bag, the tack went to the furler, the head to the halyard, and sheets to the clew. And that’s where things stopped working cleanly. Twists in lines caused all sorts of mess:
1. When I pulled the tack to the end of the bowsprit I noticed that the tack line was getting all twisted on its own. Also the furler had been rigged incorrectly and the exit was facing forward instead of aft. Oh well …
2. Next I hoisted the sail. More twists went up the halyard as I hoisted the sail but I did not notice.
3. I unfurled the sail, turned a bit downwind and we took off. Ah, the fun of this boat picking up speed!
Now I was left with the obvious problem that I was going South, that the wind was going to pick up, and that I wasn’t sure what to do with the sail now. It looked like I was not going to be able to furl it back. So I spent some time riding the tip of the bowsprit and ultimately was able to roll the sail up.
It’s now that things really got problematic. I tried to douse the sail by easing the halyard, and it wouldn’t come down.
I decided to turn around and head for port. Someone was going to have to go up the mast and figure out what was going on.
Lucky me, before leaving, I came across Michael LG, with whom I worked in the past. As I was motoring back, I hit him on LinkedIn asking for his help to get me up the mast. And he gracefully accepted! He saved the day really! I couldn’t let the sail up with the expected wind on the forecast.
So up the mast again, only to discover that because of tons of twist in the halyard, it was wrapped around itself (the code 0 is on a 2:1 halyard). And the friction in those wraps was enough to prevent the sail from coming down! I eased the sail down, spent another several hours getting the boat back in order, and finally drove home.
A long day …
If anyone knows of a way to remove twists from a 2:1 halyard without taking it out … let me know …
Movies and pictures from Changabang’s trip to San Francisco
Check out this YouTube playlist of 6 videos by Kathi, taken during our trip up the US West Coast, followed by a link to a Google Photos album of pictures of the same trip, randomized.
Google Photos album here.
A fast trip up the US West Coast
On our way from San Diego to Channel Islands Harbor we burned a full tank of diesel. So when we left Channel Islands Harbor we had a full tank and 3 jerry cans loaded with diesel. We needed only half of that to get to Pillar Point Harbor in Half Moon Bay, and some of that was for charging. Once again the usual “if you plan for it you won’t need it” happened, which is a good thing. Other unplanned for events happened too, which were not as good. Read on.
Making plans
We arrived in Channels Islands Harbor Wednesday morning. Lee had family affairs to attend to, and Rob had similar business to cater to. I had the day to myself to tend to small jobs on the boat, and to start thinking about the next leg. My neighbor in the harbor, Ollie, was very friendly and invited me for dinner a couple of times (and to sleep with them as well, but I wanted to start to know Changabang so I slept in my bunk).
The forecast looked good for a departure Friday (as discussed with Robert M.) but I would have to do it alone, which is something I was warming up to but had several concerns about. Faith had it differently as a Facebook post alerted Kathi of my presence on her sailing grounds. Kathi and I go back to our Clipper days. We met up and talked about good old days Thursday evening, then decided to have breakfast together Friday morning. One thing led to another, and she was signed up to sail with Changabang on the trip to her new home, about 285 nautical miles.
Best sailing ever
After loading gear, food, water and fuel, we motored easily out of the harbor to the oil rig Gina, where we made our first turn for Point Concepcion. Wind was forecast to always be behind the beam and maxing out at 20 kts (with most models showing less than that). This is unusual as most often sailing up North means beating in strong Westerlies/Northerlies.
From there we sailed and motor sailed every time boat speed was dropping below 5 kts. Saturday was a wonderful day with lots of wildlife (dolphins, whales, birds). Wind was variable but most often between 8-13 kts. As evening approached wind started to increase and, after unseamanlike hesitation from the skipper, we dropped to one reef and geared the genoa down to the staysail. Models were still showing good wind behind the beam below 20 kts.
Bang as in Changabang
The night proved all models wrong and it also proved that CaB is a very seaworthy sailboat. Wind started piping up to 20 kts, then 24 kts then fluctuating between 24-28 kts, with gusts above 30 (max I saw was 33). We dropped to the second reef and kept going with boat speed between 8-12 kts, most likely dragging plenty of kelp along. As the wind angle clocked between 120 to 70 of port, Changabang remained mostly flat and was skimming on the big sea. It was amazing how it was; a flying carpet is what I thought of. The old B&G autopilot was handling just fine so Kathi and I remained inside, cozy in our bunks. We experienced the classic videos from the Vendee Globe with water gurgling over the coach roof, as we crossed swell and wind waves. This continued unabated for the night and as we approached Pillar Point we were still seeing 20-25 kts.
Where does trouble happen?
We had had a wonderful and fast ride. Changabang showed she likes offshore sailing. Now it was time to make landfall, and as most sailors know, land can be trouble for boats. We started preparing the boat for landfall, dropping to 3rd reef. We started the engine, pushed it into gear, throttled up and … Nothing happened. The throttle cable was not working. Changabang is not a boat to make landfall under sail in a small craft harbor! Certainly not with a skipper who doesn’t know her well. Her turning radius is very wide too.
From then on it was very much a case of a cascading series of problems, including a few hail calls from a concerned harbor patrol. I fiddled with the cable and got nowhere. I thought to heave to and that caused all sorts of troubles, with the autopilot somehow getting stuck in tack mode. We tried to take the mainsail down (I was hoping that the idle would be enough), only to have top battens entangled in the lazy jack and the running back. Throughout all of that I was picturing Changabang on the beach and funny newspaper articles! I got a little cranky and Kathi took the brunt of it (of which I am not proud). Finally we got things sorted out and were sailing South under staysail alone. I made a call to Skip, whom among other things suggested to jerry rig a line to the throttle lever on the engine.
MacGyver to the rescue
After going through the trouble of jerry rigging that line, we decided to make our approach to Pillar Point. So I get the engine in forward, push the throttle and, oh miracle, it starts working!?!? I’ll skip through the bit of troubles we had docking, only to say that in the end, all is well that is well.
The trip was by far one of my best sailing experiences. It was fun to be along with Kathi; Changabang handled like a dream (with boat speed well below polars; much to learn still); wildlife experiences were everywhere. And best of all it only took us a day and half to get home. Brilliant!
What’s next?
Well, there’s plenty to do. I’ve started emptying the boat to deep clean her. The job list grows; and we have much to add. So keep on following us for future updates, including pictures and funny videos.
