Bill Springer's Boat Blog

Boat Test: Dufour 36P

2013-04-18T10:05:00.003-04:00

I firmly believe that when it comes to describing boats, the term “performance cruiser” is a lot like “classic.” Both are vague, overused terms that can easily venture to the linguistically lazy world of cliché. So, when I saw the “P” on the materials outlining the newest launch from Dufour in France, I was on high alert. Actually I’m exaggerating….a little. The truth is: There’s a really good reason that many production boat builders strive to strike the perfect balance between sailing performance and cruising comfort. A boat that looks sexy, sails fast (and easily), and is comfortable both on deck and below is in fact, exactly what many of us want. So, I took the new Dufour 36P out for a test drive on Narragansett Bay off Portsmouth, Rhode Island, to see how yacht designer Umberto Felci and the Dufour Design Team deliver sailing performance and cruising comfort in a 36 foot package—even though they call it a “dual purpose boat”.

My first impression of the 36P as it was tugging on it’s dock lines in the marina was that they’ve done it again—designed and built a damn good-looking boat. I say again because Dufour as been teaming up with Felci to produce quick, sexy, Euro-styled performance cruisers for the last decade, and the 36P represents the evolution of the range. It has the low coach roof, plumb bow, and open transom that you’d come to expect on a performance cruiser, but it also has a hard chine hull section and topsides that flare out a bit aft, and a narrow foil T-shaped bulb keel that has become popular on production performance boats recently.

Construction

Dufour has been part of the German-based Bavaria Group since 2010, but the boats are still built in La Rochelle, France, (as they have since the company was founded 1964), they’re still built to exacting standards, and Dufour still only builds sailboats (no powerboats). The 36 hull is laid up with a PVC foam core and logititudinal stringers above the waterline and solid fiberglass below the waterline. The interior is built up on a structural grid that’s both glued and laminated in place. The deck is injection molded and the inward facing flange of the hull-to-deck-joint is bonded and covered with a teak toe rail. The standard 7-foot, 3-inch draft keel is cast iron and bolts on to a reinforced plate in the hull. There’s nothing revolutionary about the construction process but I was impressed with the level of fit and finish.

On deck

As with a host of other performance cruisers out there, the cockpit is laid out to be a bit more racy than a more conventional cruising boat. The dual helms provide fingertip control and excellent visibility—of both the jib tell tales and any boats to leeward—but there are no real helm seats that a more dyed-in-the-wool cruiser might want. Personally, I like all the elbow room the helmsman gets in a cockpit like this, and nestled along the lifelines, and seated on the wide aft coming is more than a comfortable a great place to sit and drive. And thanks to the winches that mounted are close to the helms, it’s possible to trim and drive from the helmstations too.

The wide open transom is another feature that I like, but that some more conservative cruisers might not. The romantic in me likes the connection with the ocean I feel when I’m sailing offshore and watching the waves slide by through a wide open transom, and I also like how easy it is to access the cockpit through the dual helms. But, offshore, stern security on the 36P is comprised of lifeline wire instead of stainless steel railings. The stern even has an elegantly simple drop-down swim platform that makes swimming, (and access to the life raft) a snap. And since this is a “dual purpose boat”, you’ll find a hot and cold freshwater shower and an enormous deck locker back there too. Nice.

Moving forward of the large double helms, the cockpit is more functional than fashionable. There’s ample stowage in lockers under the cockpit seats, and those lockers can be removed to provide even more elbow room in the cockpit for racing. There’s room for about 4-6 crew to sit in the cockpit when the seats are in place, and room for 2 (or so) with the seat lockers removed.

Other noteworthy features contribute to the boat’s clean lines. All lines lead back to the cockpit through an under deck race, and flush deck hatches, a flat jib furler, a removable anchor roller, keep the decks clutter free.

Down below

It can be a tough to provide both spacious and luxurious accommodations on a 36-footer, but the 36P delivers by focusing on high quality woodwork and clever space utilization. The saloon features modern lines, a white coachroof, and woodwork built of richly varnished Moabi veneers. It also boasts copious stowage, a fold down settee table that seats six, and plenty of natural light through fixed and opening ports and hatches. The 6-foot, 7-inch long seats on either side of the saloon form some of the best sea berths I’ve seen no matter what tack you are on.

The L-shaped galley at the base of the companionway stairs to port has requisite the two-burner stove and double sink, but I found the counter space to be a bit smaller in portion to some of the other spaces in the boat. As a result, there was decent rather than cavernous stowage but still, the galley was perfectly equipped for a cruising for a week or even more. Meanwhile, the proportions of forward-facing nav station were spot-on. There’s more than enough room for electronics and paper charts and even a comfy seat with a seat back.

Another clever design element I found was the double door opening into the forward cabin. I love the fact that by simply widening the doorway made both the saloon and the forward cabin feel bigger and more open. Brilliant. I also like that it’s possible to separate the forward berth for racing crews that may be too cool to spoon in the forward bunk. It comes with a clever varnished plywood partition that cuts the berth in half. Otherwise, berth in the forward cabin has all the pointyness of a V-berth cabin and decent ventilation through an opening hatch over the berth. I’d make this the master cabin as the aft cabin has large square bunk, and similar but lesser ventilation. It is, however closer to the head.

Under Sail

We had great beach weather for our test sail on the upper reaches of Narragansett Bay—sunny and muggy with temps in the 90’s—but sadly, the breeze hovered in the single digits. So, obviously, I wasn’t able to get a feel of how the boat would handle a blow, but I was quite impressed with it’s light air performance. We sliced upwind effortlessly in the puffy zephyrs and boat speed stayed in a deceptively fast the 4-5 knot range. Sailing this boat was fun. The helm was smooth. It cut a clean wake. It was sensitive enough to reward subtle sail trim adjustments and balanced enough to keep tracking even if I took my hands on the wheel or was distracted by the chatter among my fellow boat testers. I also appreciated that all the sheets and traveler were easily reachable from the helm, visibility over the low coachroof was excellent, and that the seats on the coaming were actually quite comfortable.

The downwind portion of my test was animated by the optional asymmetrical spinnaker that we flew off the retractable carbon sprit. And once we heated up the angle and got the A-sail drawing, the hull skimmed over the water just as effortlessly as we had sliced to windward. There’s no doubt that this quick, responsive boat would be a fun to race. But what I really liked was unlike some cruising boats where you need to turn the engine on to keep moving if the wind dips below 12 knots (which, lets face it, happens a lot), the 36P still had plenty of get-up-an-go in the light stuff. The boat performed perfectly under power—turned on a dime with not too much engine noise—but the cool thing with a boat that sails this good, you’ll need to run the engine a lot less.

Specs

LOA 36’
LWL 35’5”
Beam 11’10”
Displacement 14,109 lbs
Draft 7’4”
Sail Area 818 sq ft

Dufour North America
www.dufour-yachts.com

Price Base boat $209,000

Doing the Caribbean 1500

2013-04-11T09:39:00.001-04:00

When I asked Dr. Wayne Andersen why he’s sailed his tricked out Moody 54 Habits of Health in the Caribbean 1500 four years in a row his answer made me smile. “I like to have the boat down here in the Winter,” he said in an air conditioned saloon after a speedy passage to the 1500 finish—Nanny Cay marina, Tortola, BVI. “And it’d be easy to have a delivery crew sail the boat from my home port in Annapolis. But, it all comes back to what Steve Black, (the founder of the Caribbean 1500) said before we did our first 1500: ‘Congratulations. You’re about to set off on one of the last great accessible adventures still available.’”

After helping make the adventure of offshore sailing more accessible to countless cruisers since the early 90’s, Steve Black sold the Caribbean 1500 (the annual rallies south from Hampton, Virginia, to the BVI and Bahamas in the fall) and Atlantic Cup (the rally back to the U.S. East Coast via Bermuda in the spring) to the World Cruising Club (organizers of the popular, European-based Atlantic Rally for Cruisers) in 2011. But as I found out as crew aboard Miles and Anne Poor’s Tayana 55 Karina in the 2012 edition, the rally structure that helps the 1500 make offshore sailing a bit more accessible, and the bonds formed by sharing the adventure with other like-minded cruisers are only a few of the many reasons it keeps attracting crews—both offshore newbies and veterans—year after year.

The start before the start

Thanks to Hurricane Sandy, there was no shortage of “adventure” even before the 2012 edition got underway. The 1,000-mile-wide superstorm that devastated New Jersey and New York hit less than a week before the scheduled start in Hampton, and the delays it caused threw a serious wrench into the normal pre-departure week of seminars and safety checks the 1500 is known for. A group of boats were delayed getting to Hampton and some—including Miles and Anne’s Karina—ended up weathering Sandy in Annapolis. The late arrivals in Hampton increased the pre-departure pressure to get everything ready in less time, but thanks to Andy and Mia—World Cruising’s crack organizing and communications team—and the communal spirit of the all the participants, everything was on track for an on-time departure on Sunday. Until some pretty nasty-looking the long range weather forecasts threw another wrench into the works.

My phone rang, “Hey Bill,” said Miles less than two days before I was to fly out of Boston. “What time are you scheduled to arrive on Saturday?”

“About noon,” I replied.

“Okay, good. We’ve got a nasty storm that’s forecasted to form off Hatteras in a few days and it’s looking like we might be heading out as soon as you get here.”

But that meant we’d be heading out a day early. In the past, the start of the 1500 has been delayed—some years, by almost a week!—to wait for a suitable weather window. It had never left early. And with anywhere from 40-80 boats—paying customers with various anxieties and expectations—entered in any given year, it’s easy to see why. But, Andy and Mia are experienced sailors as well as fantastic organizers and communicators. They worked closely with many of the experienced 1500 crews as well as World Cruising Club management and they did a brilliant job of assessing the weather forecast that basically said leaving a day early would allow the 40-boat-strong fleet to get out in front of the storm (if not, the next window could be another five days, or more). Then they made the call. Crews got the option of a “rolling start” to leave a full day early anytime after the skippers meeting on Saturday. The decision was well received by the fleet and it proved to be the right one.

Onboard Karina

Miles and Anne have participated in every 1500 since 2004. Miles has been the volunteer fleet surgeon, he’s conducted numerous pre-departure safety checks, and he’s always willing to help with advice or encouragement when it comes to preparing boats for the rigors of offshore sailing. Meanwhile Anne’s steady voice has been a fixture on the SSB radio chats for years and she also ran the Caribbean 1500 “store” as a volunteer for Steve Black. The Poor’s are two of the many personalities that make up the rich fabric of the 1500 and I was lucky to catch a ride with them.

How lucky you ask? Well, for starters, Miles did all the cooking and he’s an amazing cook. Anne is a savvy navigator as well as a crisp conversationalist. Crewmate Matt Benhoff is Ex-Coast Guard and one of the nicest and most competent sailors I’ve met, and Karina is one of the most seakindly and seaworthy boats I’ve ever been on. Even when we experienced a refreshing spell of 40 knots of breeze against the current on the edge of Gulf Stream, and the seas churned like an unbalanced washing machine, Karina and company were in good shape. And we did in fact beat that nasty storm that was forecasted and lead to our well-called early departure.

Once the queasiness of the one uncomfortable night we had on the edge of the Gulf Stream wore off, we settled into a comfortable routine that was punctuated by several daily events. The first was the morning SSB radio chat. Even when reception was spotty, it was still cool to hear how the crews on the other boats were doing. And if you haven’t done a rally before, apart from all the hard, practical knowledge you’ll receive in pre-departure classes and seminars, being part of a regular radio chat can be a surprisingly fun diversion (and be tremendously useful if you run into problems and need advice from experienced cruisers) offshore. Many rally participants will also report that they only bought and learned how to use a SSB because they were in a rally and they were glad they did.

Another welcome daily event was “shower time”. Yep, you heard right. Each day starting around 1530 we’d each take turns getting cleaned up with a hot, fresh shower. Now it wasn’t like we were taking green waves over the bow and needed to wash the salt of per se, this was more a byproduct of Miles and Anne’s cruising philosophy of “not suffering too much.” I’ve been on more than my fair share of hygiene-challenged passages to really appreciate “shower time” and this is another illustration of the beauty of a cruising rally. The Poor’s desire to not suffer led them to run the engine (and have a 160-gallon capacity fuel bladder secured to the aft deck to significantly increase motoring range) way more than a die-hard racer, and even some cruisers would. But that’s the point. There’s a direct relationship between power offshore and comfort, not to mention hot, watermaker made water! We didn’t “win” anything, but we were one of the first boats to finish and eating bacon and eggs on land when a lot of other boats still had over 100 miles to go isn’t the worse thing in the world.

The 1900 SSB radio chat served as the final sign-off before we settled into the sleep schedule of our night watches (we enjoyed totally civilized 2-hour night watches on Karina) and it was usually during the evening chat when the power of the radio net showed it’s problem-solving power. Miles and others talked to crews and helped with issues like what to do with a sticky folding propeller, and Miles even advised one rally captain on how to safely deal with having a line wrapped around their propeller at night. And since Miles is an experienced doctor, he was also able to provide useful advice on medial situations too. But the evening chat wasn’t all business. There was some “You should have seen the fish we caught”–type chatter too.

Weather you are a member of a rally or not, the reality of offshore cruising is that you’re really all alone out there. But being in a rally does have a built-in social element that dulls the edge of the “out there” just a bit—if you want that.

Why 1500?

I was looking forward to getting to know as many rally participants as possible and learning why they chose to participate in the 1500 when we were in Hampton, but alas, I was only in Hampton for about an hour before we all were pulling away from the dock. But I did get a chance to catch up with a few crews when we arrived in Tortola and their answers provide some insight into what the 1500 is, and what it isn’t.

My first victim was the intoxicatingly energetic Dr. Wayne Andersen from Annapolis, Maryland, who owns that Moody 54, Habits of Health, that I quoted earlier. Dr. A is a best selling author who writes about, you guessed it, healthy living. He told me that in addition to the pure “adventure” offshore sailing provides, he loves participating in the 1500 because it’s a great way to build competence by gaining valuable experience. He also was impressed with the professionalism of the 1500 organization and he appreciated the social aspect as well. But more than anything, “This year was the most fun,” he reports, “because I was able to introduce a group of good friends to the adventure of offshore sailing.”
Meanwhile Paul Fridman of San Francisco, California, had a different experience aboard his Outremer 49 catamaran Baloo. While we were offshore, Paul and Miles had discussed a situation he had with sick crewman on the SSB and Miles suggested some possible causes and treatments. I learned that his crew turned out to be fine, and Paul told me that the access to a doctor on the SSB that being part of the 1500 made possible was comforting, but he also admitted that he’d participated in Baja HaHa on the west coast in the past, and he was hoping for a similar social program. He did admit that Sandy played a part in curtailing the social program in Hampton, but he also told me he’d probably look for a rally with fewer safety requirements in the future as well.

For Neil and Shawn Sullivan of Fredericksburg, Virginia, the 2012 rally marked the beginning of their first season cruising and living aboard their Antares 44i Escapade. Neil loved the social aspect and safety net that the 1500 provided and he was looking forward to exploring the islands. And it was during my conversation with Neil that I ran into Neil’s neighbor Dietmar Weselin. I remembered Ditemar from a 1500 I’d sailed years ago. He’s sailed his own boat in the last seven 1500’s, but he crewed for Neil this year because “I’m selling the boat,” he reported with a little sadness. “But I want to help pass the torch to the next generation.” And by the smile I saw on Neil’s face in Nanny Cay, it’s obvious he did just that.

Under new management

For Miles and Anne as well as many of the other experienced Caribbean 1500 entrants I talked to, participating the 1500 is special. They’ve come to love many of the people they’ve met over the years, and the cruising network they’ve formed has proved to be quite useful as well. And like Dietmar, I’ve witnessed Miles and Anne helping fellow sailors gain confidence and experience offshore as part of the 1500. These are all traits that Steve Black valued when he was running things and obviously, the folks at World Cruising Club value these things as well.

I had a chance to talk to Andy and Mia in Tortola and while they and the World Cruising Club team are working very hard to preserve the vibe of the 1500 they are also working to make some improvements as well. As a new Dad, I’ll be the first to say how awesome it was for my wonderfully accepting wife and a 4 month old baby to be able track my progress, (and see how soon I’d be home) on www.carib1500.com in real time at home. Sailtracker is hardly new technology but it’s just one of the elements that makes the 1500 more fun an accessible for everyone. However, Andy also stresses that the Caribbean 1500 is NOT and hand-holding exercise. “We prepare you with the best possible skills and information so you’ll have the tools to make decisions for yourself.” The call to leave a day early was a perfect example. They made a well-reasoned suggestion but ultimately the decision was each individual captain’s. Three boats chose not to leave on Saturday. They got out the following Friday and caught up with the rest of the fleet a little over a week later.

Andy also hopes future rallies will continue to improve by becoming a bit more like long-distance road races. “You can run 26 miles by yourself,” he says, “but for most folks, it’s a way more fun to be part of an organized event. A spectacle.” He also looks to the success of the ARC as a indicator of what future 1500’s could be like. “A competitive element can be fun for some,” he says. “Of course it won’t be for everybody, but the ARC has full “race” teams that are fast and fun to follow.”

There are detractors to any perceived change that the World Cruising Club wants to bring to the 1500, and some have even gone so far as to organize their own rally that “starts” in Hampton on the same day as the 1500, and finishes in Tortola. I didn’t see or hear from any of the members of the “Salty Dawg Rally,” but I did learn that it’s free to participate and that it’s specifically designed for experienced cruisers.

Landfall

I’ve been on some trips where everything—days on end of stupidly strong headwinds, broken heads, um, I mean toilets, and on one passage, the captain forgot the coffee!!!—was just a little off. But on this trip, the miles ticked down just as easy as you please, and after numerous showers, and steak dinners, and stimulating conversation, and pleasant sailing, and naps, and dolphins frolicking in our bow wave, the lights of St Thomas and the hills of Tortola came into view on the horizon. It was just in time. We’d run out of ice cream.

Baby on Board in the BVI--The Full Story

2013-03-26T21:06:00.000-04:00

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Many of the important events Caroline and I have shared invariably occur on a sailboat. Our first date involved a nearly-blind, navigation electronics-less cruise through black bean-soup fog. I was terrified (but apparently hid it well), and she was somehow smitten with my dead reckoning. Later, my persistent, puppy-dog wooing involved numerous harbor cruises, overnighters, and week-long charters.

Hi Mom!

We celebrated our extended engagement on a bareboat in the Caribbean, honeymooned aboard another in the Seychelles, and even cruised from Grenada to St. Lucia when Caroline was full-on, morning sick pregnant. So logically, I started plotting our first “family” Christmas charter in the British Virgin Islands almost as soon as our little baby boy arrived last July. “It’ll be the ultimate adventure,” I said to Caroline with a smile as I wiped the spit-up from my shoulder. “And it’ll be easy since we’ve been there before.”

Hey Mom, I love the ocean!

Getting there

Naively, I really wasn’t too worried about how we’d do on the boat, but I was worried about flying with a six-month old, and our incredibly large pile of baby stuff (cribs, seats, toys, strollers, etc.) from our home in Boston down to the MarineMax charter base in Tortola, BVI. But as we learned almost immediately, you encounter a certain warmness when you fly with a baby that doesn’t cry too much. Our extremely cute, extremely bald little distraction seemed to soften the moods of all of our fellow high-season travellers—even Glen Close the actress.

Hi Ladies!

The little one actually dropped his pacifier and drooled on her as we paced the aisle of our Virgin Islands-bound plane, and she couldn’t have been nicer. Same holds true for the customs man in Tortola. Just one look at our little man’s passport photo could melt the heart of even the most jaded government official. Even still, finally arriving at the charter base felt like a victory, and we were grateful to see Marine Max’s manager Bentley Hodge had stayed late to welcome us with open arms.

Getting Underway

The Admiral's seat.

The reality of how different chartering with a baby was going to be really sunk in when we got up the next morning. When it was just the two of us, we’d race to get off the dock and be swimming in a peaceful anchorage as quickly as possible. But as all parents know, there’s no racing with a baby. The time and energy required for feeding, naptime, and just living with a baby on a boat added to normal charter chores like provisioning slowed us down a bit. Making sure the boy was well cared for was obviously way more important than if we “wasted” our precious charter time at the dock. Everything took longer than expected but it was actually quite liberating to really slow down, and we eventually nosed our extremely well-equipped Marine Max 413s built by Dufour out of the marina and set a course for Cooper Island a full four miles away!

I'm bald!

Part of the delay was simply due to figuring out the logistics of keeping a six-month-old baby safe, secure, and out of the sun on moving, pitching, heeling sailboat in the tropics. Keeping him strapped into his car seat—“The Bucket”—and wedging it into a shady corner of the cockpit sole worked, but I also found that strapping the Bumbo seat on top of the cockpit table provided a much cooler alternative. Just seeing “The Admiral” strapped into his cockpit command seat as we sailed with bit of jib rolled out over to Cooper Island convinced us that we were going to have a great week.

The Admiral may have squirmed and squawked a bit in his Admiral’s seat while Caroline eased us up to the mooring ball off Cooper, and I boathooked the rode onboard, but we ended being safe and secure on the mooring nonetheless.

Things That Go Bump

As we settled in for the night, relaxation and gratitude washed over us as the baby slept peacefully in his portable crib in an aft cabin while we enjoyed the stars and the glassy still anchorage. And then, at around 2330, I awoke to the sound of the rudder making subtle yet strange noise.

Goo Goo. Gaa Gaa.

What I found when I nonchalantly poked my head up the companionway took my breath away—we were on the beach. My mind raced, “How could this have happened? I’ve foolishly put my family in danger!” before I took a deep breath went into full “Keep Cool” mode. Thankfully Caroline knew my somber deep breath meant something was up, but she is good in a crisis too. She made sure the baby was safe and ready to get off the boat in a flash, and as we learned later, it actually wasn’t too bad all things considered.

Turns out the entire mooring screw (of which we happily paid the $30 fee to the mooring’s “owner” the night before) had pulled out of the bottom for apparently no reason. But the wind and swell were thankfully light. Not only were we able to contact Bentley on the phone, he was kind enough to leave his warm bed to come out and pull us off with his powerful work boat. He also stayed with us as we motored back to the marina so we could have the boat checked for damage in the morning.

Look at those legs.

In all of our years chartering, we’d never, ever, called a charter base with a problem, and I hope I never have to again, but I could not be more impressed with, and grateful for, Bentley and his team. They literally saved our trip.

Back in the marina the next morning, we were happy to learn that there was no damage to the boat, but we were also a bit frazzled. It was the day before Christmas. “Okay, right,” I said as the morning hours burned away. “Let’s get out of here so we can spend Christmas up in Virgin Gorda!”

“How far is that exactly?” asked Caroline.

“Hmmmm. 20 miles or so….upwind,” I replied.

Caroline and I have punched into the trades up to the Bitter End YC from Tortola many times before. “Do you think the Pickle is up to that?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

“Well I’m not sure if I’m up to it,” she said. “And I don’t think he is either. Is there somewhere closer?”
“You’re probably right. Let’s just get off the dock and see.”

Love the Hanna PJ's.

I had a feeling we weren’t going to Virgin Gorda almost as soon as we’d unrolled a bit of jib and were beam reaching out of the channel. There was some sting in the northeast trades. The boy was crying. The leeward jib sheet was flogging, and the apparent wind felt like it was howling.

“Remember that peaceful mooring field off Norman Island?” I said over the breeze as I corralled the jib sheet. “We can be there in little over an hour.”

We love that little pickle.

“Let’s go,” said Caroline as she soothed our little Pickle. “We need a little peace.”

So our vision of celebrating Christmas and enjoying all the land-based comforts of the Bitter End Yacht Club shifted to spending the holiday moored in the more private and rugged beauty of Kelly Cove off Norman Island. And we knew we made the right move as soon as we fell off the breeze and started making the easy run down the Channel. The wind quieted down. The boat flattened out. The Pickle stopped fussing, and Caroline and I breathed a bit easier as we literally went with the flow. It’d been quite a trip already.

Christmas Cove

Any disappointment we might have felt for not pushing up to Gorda Sound dissolved as soon as we grabbed one of the four moorings in Kelly Cove. It’s a gorgeous spot and we arrived with plenty of time to take a refreshing dip off the stern, have a nice mellow lunch, and much more importantly, to set the boy up to have a honest-to-goodness nap. Peace at last!

This might be my most favorite photo of all. The boy just loved the little blond french girl at the bar.

Calm and quiet, Kelly Cove was in fact the perfect spot to celebrate Christmas. The boy woke from his nap both rested and curious to explore his surroundings. We turned the saloon into the “play zone” by putting table down so he could have a large cushioned area to play with his large assortment of toys we brought from home. We played a little Mozart on the stereo and watched the uncharacteristically cloudy sky explode with color as the sun went down. And best of all, the boy was able to have his tub before bed just like he does at home.

The best teething ring in the house.

Prior to this trip, Caroline was an absolute genius when it came to finding the stuff we needed to make the boy feel as comfortable as possible on a boat in the tropics. She got it all: sun hats, sun block, sun tents, floating toys, a life jacket, even cute little sunglasses, but the absolute best purchase she made, and what we’d unequivocally encourage any new parents daring enough to charter with an infant to bring was…..the inflatable tub! The picture really does say it all. I mean come on, how cute is that! Mr. Splishy loved it. He had salt water to cool down with and fresh water to clean up with before bed. Talk about portable plunge pool! It was a guaranteed hit every time.

Hanging in the tub with my bottle and my mom is nice.

Christmas morning in the Caribbean is every bit as wonderful as it sounds. We awoke safely, peacefully attached to a secure mooring with no agenda other than to keep unwinding and keep the boy entertained. As any new parent knows, that kind of a day is a rare gift, and we had several in Kelly Cove. We swam, and snorkeled, and cooked like we’ve always done on a charter, but now we had to take turns while we also rocked, soothed, changed, fed, and bathed the little one. We found everything wasn’t necessarily harder with the boy, we just adjusted to his rhythm. It was actually pretty enlightening, but we did get a bit claustrophobic if we didn’t make regular trips into the beach at the nicely updated Pirates Bight bar and restaurant.

Grandy made the gingerbread christmas cookies.

Sailing with a baby definitely opened our eyes to the beauty and relaxation of staying put for a few days, but we’d lost some charter time due to the “mooring incident,” so we had to start thinking about heading back sooner than we’d have liked. And since Cooper Island was the logical stop that would put us within shouting distance of the marina for our last night out, we grudgingly agreed that going back made sense even though we both felt a little funny about it. Caroline soon put it all in perspective. “I want my money back for that defective mooring,” she said with a grin. I couldn’t have agreed more. We set off on the arduous nine mile passage up to Cooper after a lazy breakfast the next morning.

Returning To The Scene Of The Crime

What a difference a few peaceful days on a mooring can make. Feeling much less frazzled and much more confident that we weren’t going to run aground, or drop the baby overboard, or be forced to battle the elements, we enjoyed an invigorating sail up the Channel. And learning from the wily ways of veteran parents, we timed our passage to perfectly coincide with the boy’s morning nap and covered the bulk of the miles while he was literally sleeping like a baby.

I'm still bald!

We agreed all of it—the lugging the stuff, the responsibility, the expense, the sleep depravation—was worth it. We talked of other trips we’re going to do with the little one, and had a laugh at all the things that had gone “wrong” on this one. In addition to the “mooring incident,” we also ran out of propane (again to be “saved” by the truly awesome and understanding Marine Max staff who ran a replacement bottle out to us), and we even ran out of cash to pay our mooring fees. Thankfully, I was able to get some cash from the infamous Willy T boat bar over in Norman—but that’s another story for another story.

The engine jumped from the stern like it had a death wish.

“Nothing else could possibly happen,” I joked. And then I looked aft and saw the hideous sight of our dinghy happily tugging on its painter without an engine on the transom. I’m totally serious. It was just like that. My heart sank as fast as that outboard must have.

Ahhhhhhhh! I think my scream woke up napping babies on land. And there simply was nothing to be done but accept the shame of it. I’d become one of the endless progression of gobs who’d unwittingly allowed an outboard to end up at the bottom of Sir Francis Drake Channel. Sometimes Murphy strikes with a vengeance. So, we simply picked a mooring as close to the Cooper Island Beach Club as possible so our row into shore wouldn’t be too hard.

The row to shore was more annoying than hard but that really didn’t matter. We had cold drinks in the shade and the cutest, baldest baby in the world continued to bring the warmness out of everyone we met. Caroline found out where our “mooring man” was and I got our money back. He couldn’t have been nicer or more apologetic. “I’m sorry man,” he said. “The screw just pulled out. Here’s your 30 bucks back,” he said as he turned away to blow the smoke from his cigarette away from me. What more can you say really?

So, when the no-see-ums came out, we made our way back to the only engineless inflatable on the dock, and jerkily rowed our way back to the boat. Then it was time for Mr. Splishy’s bath, and dinner, and the full moonrise, and the welcome oblivion of sleep.

Mr. Splishy sure loves his tub!

But something really beautiful happened the next morning. Instead of being depressed by all the weird bad luck we had on this trip, I saw the beautiful sunrise, smelled my fresh brewed coffee mixed in with the warm, soft, sweet air, and plopped our little bald “Admiral” into his admiral’s seat, and realized how truly lucky we are. Outboard engines are a dime a dozen. But there’s only one Mr. Splishy!

Sailing with a wicked cute 6 month old baby in the BVI

2013-01-16T20:30:00.002-05:00

Have you ever wondered what it'd be like to charter in the BVI with your 6-month old baby for the Holidays? Well.....ummmmmm......it was the bomb! But why don't I just show show you?

Let me introduce you to Sam. He's the cute, bald, smiling bundle of awesomeness that's gazing and smiling at Mommy who's taking the photo. It's Christmas Day. We're in Kelly Cove off Norman Island, BVI. The clouds were a welcome respite for us new parents who aren't the best with the sunscreen for ourselves, but took keeping our little man's skin pristine and unblemished very seriously. Tougher than you think in the mid-day tropical sun. I know, pretty good problem to have.

Doesn't that look like the most funnest inflatable rig in the world? The boy sure did love the water. What an amazing way to introduce the lil' man to the wonders of boats, the sea and the beach. To say he loved splishing around in the water would be a bit of an understatement.

Hanging out near the swim platform was part of our afternoon routine. Caroline in her infinite wisdom found an inflatable "tub" that we brought in our considerable collection of luggage so Sam could has his nightly bath just like at home. The view, however, was a little better in the Caribbean than in our bathtub back home in dark and dreary Boston.

Check out that tub! We did both salt and fresh water soaks back there on the aft deck.

This was taken at about 0630 on our last day. It was a pretty eventful charter (can you see anything missing from this photo), but it was a sweet and soft morning, and "The Admiral" sure loved the Bumbo seat we'd brought from home. And fit perfectly on the cockpit table too. I was even able to tie it down so he was actually pretty safe in there. Look at the round little bald head making sure Mommy is steering the correct course out of the Cooper Island anchorage. He is "The Admiral" after all.

He sure was at home on deck. I hope he sees this blog in 20 years and realizes "Hey, that's why I always feel deja vu when I come to the Caribbean." And "Why did Dad always wear those ridiculous white sunglasses?"

Good morning everyone! Is it time to swim yet?

The best teething ring in the house! As you might expect, nothing slows you down like sailing with a 6-month old, and that's just what us new parents needed. Especially since after years of being the charmed charterers that never has anything go wrong, Murphy's Law-type stuff that happens on boats happened to us in spades.

Tune in later for story of the trip. It was a doozy.

What's Offshore Sailing Really Like?

2012-12-02T22:27:00.000-05:00

I'm one of the lucky ones that gets to sail off over the horizon every once in a while, and my latest trip had me leaving Hampton, VA, aboard Anne and Miles Poor's Tayana 55 Karina about an hour after I arrived at the marina from the airport. I shot this picture with my iPhone after leaving the Chesapeake and settling into the rhythm of the trip.

Since we were still in cell phone range, I started texting and facebooking all people I love and including the photo above. Kinda cool knowing that you're going to be way off the grid for about 7 days, but also to have several hours to do nothing but motorsail (the winds were light), and reach out to the people in your life that you want to have enough time for. The txts, and facebook messages, tweets that accompanied the photo and my "We're headed to the Caribbean through the Bermuda Triangle!" tag line were just wonderful.

I could go on and on about what it means to sail away from land for a while but that's juicy fodder for another blog post. For now I'm just gonna stick to what it's like, and I'm finding that video is, um.... news flash..... a pretty cool way to show you exactly what it's like, sort of. So please stop reading this post, watch the video above, and then please return to reading the written words and gazing at the still photos that you'll find in the rest of this post.................

So, now you know what sailing at 10 knots, under sunny skies, with dolphins frolicking at the bow, and steaks and fresh caught fish cooking on the bar-b-q, and what a glorious sunrise as you make landfall at a Caribbean port after 7 days as sea looks like. But there really is more to the story. Like in the photo above. That's really what sailing offshore looks like, at least sometimes. There's nothing but the flat line of the horizon for as far as the eye can see. For miles, and miles, and miles. How would you feel if everything you know and love was left somewhere in your wake and all you have is........the flat line of the horizon for as far as you can see? It's actually a pretty neat thing to experience.

It's also pretty wild to look off the stern (that's the back of the boat to you non-sailors out there) at 2 am on a stormy, pitch black night and realize "I'd die if I fell overboard right now. The boat would just sail away and I'd never be seen again......ummmmm.....better clip in."

I shot this photo when we were about 600 miles from the nearest coast. We'd crossed, and been tossed around by, the Gulf Stream, and were in the full offshore groove--sail, sleep, shower, eat, repeat. I even had time to sit in the shade of the jib on the foredeck and meditate. You know those white noise machines that have "ocean" or "waves" settings? Picture experiencing the real thing on a 55-foot long, 80,000 pound boat surging down the actual waves that are making "white noise" towards a tropical destination. Now picture having the time to just sit and actually experience (physically and mentally) what that sounds, smells, and feels like. Did you know salt air has a texture to it.

Here we are. The crew of the mighty Karina.

I've done tons of offshore trips with people I didn't know before I showed up on the dock with my sea boots. As a result I've met all kinds of people in what is actually a pretty intimate way. Sailing and living in cramped quarters, being sweaty, hot, cold, sick, uncomfortable, and even happy on a boat offshore is a wonderfully unique experience.

I've seen tough guy CEO/owners go all mushy in the face of offshore adversity, and I've see more than a few big-talking sailors actually get a little weak in the knees when things get rough, and I've seen tons of "little guys" just get it done too. But I felt like the Sea Gods were smiling down on me during this trip. Boy did our crew hit it off! Matt (in the blue shirt) is Ex-coast Guard and one of the nicest and most competent sailors I've ever met. Anne is a good, funny, and unflappable mom who's a crack navigator and crisp conversationalist. And then there's my man Miles over there with his white sunglasses. I knew I'd picked the right boat and the right captain when Miles bounded up the companionway when I arrived in Hampton wearing a dope pair of white Oakley's that seemed rather familiar to yours truly.

Don't we look like a happy bunch? We were. That photo was taken during our little dolphin interlude and the joy was palpable. When was the last time you felt joy? Hopefully it wasn't too long ago. And if it was, I hope this is a little reminder that it's possible, and you don't have to be on the bow of a boat to find it either.

This was the tropical seascape that greeted us after 7 days of infinite horizon in all directions. We couldn't have timed it any better. The air was....soft. The sky was......soft. The seas in the Drake Channel were......pancake flat. And we all had visions of the pancake breakfast we were going to eat on land as soon as we arrived. There really is no better way to enter a foreign country than by sailing there under your own power.

Almost there. Nanny Cay, Tortola, BVI at about 0700. And while sometimes it's nice to have time to settle in to a new place, I was already working the Internet to see if I could change my ticket so I could get home day early to my beautiful wife and my wicked cute baby boy. That's another benefit of offshore cruising. Having the unfettered time offshore to reflect on all the good things you've left behind makes it that much more special when you first make landfall and then punch your ticket home.

So, after working the airlines to make the early return that happen on a holiday weekend, I found myself in the an exit row on a Jet Blue flight from San Juan to Boston. Now who walks down the aisle and the proceeds to sit right next to me in their assigned seats but my step-cousin (his aunt married my dad) and his wife. I know? Small world right? Totally cool coincidence. They were coming back from sailing in the BVI too, but that's more rich fodder for a future post.

And then......... who decides to surprise me at the airport (as opposed to just picking me up in the car as usual) but the Honey Bunny (in the white vest) and my Lil' bald man (in his white onezie).

I sure do love riding the automatic sidewalk with Mr. Splishy. It's an adventure of gummy smiles.

Boat Show Blast Off

2012-09-27T12:23:00.000-04:00

Okay, I just love this photo that I shot at the Newport International Boat Show recently. Now, I admit, I'm kinda sweet on sailboats, and not as familiar with powerboats, but you gotta love the "deck shoes" I encountered over on the powerboat side? And those were actually pretty tame compared to some of the other "dock walkers" I found perusing the powerboats.

My favorite was a lovely lady who'd obviously had some, um, augmentation done, and who was sporting some wicked tight pants, and a wicked tight tank top to sufficiently display said augments, and best of all, was rocking some stilettos that's make Lady Gaga swoon.

Now, I'm not sure how I got on this tangent, and I'm really not that into Lady Gaga's foot fashion, but, I just really appreciated the fact that a nice lady with significant augments and dagger sharp platform stilettos (even the front part of the shoes were raised up about 3 inches) was rocking and rolling at the powerboat show. Maybe the fact that I've been away from boat shows for about 2 years has allowed me to get sufficient perspective and see the "magic" of it all.

Anyhoo, I've always thought that spandex clad Go-Go dancers would sufficiently spice up a boat show and it turns out I've simply been going to the wrong shows! And while the footwear wasn't nearly as cool, and the tight pants/augmentation ratio was way down, and all the usual suspects were flaunting their wares over on the sailboat side, there was some stuff that actually qualifies as NEW! like the weapon pictured below.

It's the Motive 25R and the brainchild of three pretty turned on guys: Company CEO and Design Director Pete Ansel is an avid sailor, cyclist, motorcycle racer, and industrial designer who's passionate about transportation design. Meanwhile the design team is made up of co-leaders Carl Persak and Jeremy Wurmfeld. Their firm--Persak and Wurmfeld Naval Architecture--is largest of its kind in New York City, and together they bring a wealth of design, naval architecture and hands-on sailing experience to the project. And as you can see by the video below, this 3-hulled drag racer ain't no slouch when it comes to putting the pedal to the metal. I hope to get an up close and personal test done soon, but in the meantime, click here for more info.

And be sure to stay tuned. I've realized I can do anything I want with this blog, an I intend to do just that. My goal is to consistently deliver boat stuff that's useful and informative but most of all FUN! And I want to hear from you. Let me know what you want to know and I'll do everything I can to serve it up.

Boat Test: Hanse 495

2012-06-23T12:50:00.006-04:00

Hanse Yachts sure have come a long way since their models first appeared at the U.S. Sailboat show in Annapolis in the late 1990’s. Back then, I thought the boats were small and unremarkable except for the fact that they were built in the former East Germany, but I soon learned that Hanse’s founder and chief visionary Michael Schmidt had big plans. Since then, Hanse Yachts has indeed evolved into one of the highest volume builders in the world. And as I found out during a test sail of the Judel/Vrolijk-designed Hanse 495 on a spectacular late fall day in New England, there are plenty of reasons why Hanse Yachts continue to propagate.

Construction
The hull is built of solid hand laid fiberglass below the waterline and balsa core above the waterline. The deck is cored with balsa. The hull is stiffened with a solid fiberglass grid. Both the hull and deck are laminated with Isophtalic gelcoat and vinyelseter resin. Both the standard T-shaped, and the optional L-shaped keels are cast iron. Overall construction quality was good.

On Deck
The 495 has striking lines—the bow is plumb, the topsides are tall with oversized hull ports, the coach roof is low slung, and the stern is wide. Stepping aboard (several fixed steps on the dock made it easy to get up through the lifeline gate), I liked the easy-to-navigate side decks, though I’d have liked to have seen a longer coach roof grab rail. I was also impressed with the spacious cockpit centered around a large, sturdy table with dropdown leaves. The cockpit seats are wide enough to be comfortable, long enough to stretch out on, and the stainless steel framed table provides excellent hand holds and brace points. The transom drops down to reveal a large swim platform and clever life raft storage. Access through the stern area is excellent due to the boat’s dual helm configuration. Lines led through a bank of stoppers to winches mounted close to the helms make sail trim from both helm stations a snap. The double ended mainsheet and self-tacking jib make it extremely easy to sail single-handed, but there is no traveler. The only way to depower the main is with the vang. On deck stowage is available in the good-sized cockpit lockers under the seats and a large sail locker forward.

Accommodations

The accommodations plan is impressively customizable for a production boat. Three very different basic cabin layouts are offered. The boat I tested had the master cabin forward, two guest cabins aft, and a large sail locker forward, but many different variations, including choices of wood veneers (Mahogany, cherry, or teak) and upholstery colors are available. No matter what version you choose, the main saloon will be open and stylish with a spacious, Euro-style galley, a large settee, and significant (6’10”) headroom. The main saloon is bright thanks to well designed hull ports and well ventilated by four opening ports and two large opening hatches. There’s also room a proper, forward facing nav station with a large chart table and a good sized head.

Hanse pitches the accommodations design as “loft style.” This is readily apparent in the master cabin forward. It has a legitimate walk-around “bed,” generous stowage, and an ensuite “bathroom” that you might actually find in small city “loft” instead of the triangle shaped bunk that you often find in forward cabins on many boats. An equally well proportioned and well equipped master cabin aft is also available, but I’d opt for the superior light and ventilation available forward. The guest cabins are much less “loft-like,” but still have enough berth and stowage space to be comfortable.

Under Sail
I test sailed the 495 off Manchester, Massachusetts, under crisp sunny skies in about 8-12 knots of breeze and flat water during a highly unusual warm spell last Fall. Now while it wasn’t the best day to see how the boat would handle a blow, I can report that it handled the light stuff extremely well. The helm was light and well balanced. I appreciated the tactile feel of the steering and the way hull cut a clean wake through the water. Visibility to leeward and of the jib telltales was excellent from each of the helm stations and the seats were comfortable though they felt a little exposed. I also liked the easy visibility and access to the chart plotter mounted on the back of the cockpit table, and that the crew could both trim and reef without ever needing to go forward.

Upwind, admittedly in a zephyr, I was able to get boat speed to just touch 7 knots, briefly, and we were able to tack through 80 degrees. But speeds in the high 5s and 6s were the norm in the mostly single digit winds. Still, pretty good considering this is a 30,000 pound boat. The 495’s excellent light air performance is really not too surprising considering the low-drag hull was drawn by the go-fast guys at Judel/Vrolijk, the L-shaped, 8,830 pound keel draws almost 7-feet, and even with the self-tacking jib, sail area totaled 1,272 sq ft. And it was easy to sail too. Once the in-mast furling main and self-tacking jib were trimmed for sailing hard on the breeze, all I needed to do was put the helm over and sail to where the tell tales told me to. And if we did need to trim, a powered winch was there to provide the muscle.

Under Power
The standard 72-horsepower engine provides plenty of power and the deep rudder and L-shaped keel provides plenty of maneuverability, but we didn’t really need any of that to get off the dock due to the dual retractable thrusters our test model was equipped with., all we needed to do was deploy the thrusters, and push the joystick (both thrusters are controlled with a single joystick) to the right. The ability to simply power sideways out of a tight spot is cool, but you must to remember to retract the thrusters before accelerating or they will be damaged. There were no surprises once we were powering out of the harbor. Boat speed under power was in the 8-to-9 knot range. Engine noise was noticeable but acceptable down below.

Conclusion
If you ever use words like: classic, or traditional, or transom overhang, to describe your ideal cruising boat, the Hanse 495 is not going to be your cup of tea. But, if you’re looking for a spacious, stylish, well designed boat that’s fun and easy to sail, AND will turn heads on any harbor tour, the 495 may be right in your wheelhouse. It combines attitude and elegance with performance and function beautifully.

Vital Statistics
Headroom 6ft 10in
Berths 6ft 7in x 5ft 5in (fwd)
7ft x 6ft 2in

Specifications
LOA 50ft 6in // LWL 44ft 5in
Beam 15ft 7in // Draft 6ft 9in (std); 6ft 6in (opt)
Displacement 30,900lb (std); 31,900 (opt)
Ballast 8,830lb (std); 9,820 (opt)
Sail Area 1,224ft2 (100% FT)
Fuel/Water/Waste (Gal) 80/172/19
Engine 73hp Volvo (sail drive)
Electrical 1 x 80AH/2 x 150AH
Designer Judel/Vrolijk & Co
Builder Hanse Yachts Greifswald, Germany
U.S. Distributor Hanse Yachts USA, 978-903-0380, usa.hanseyachts.com
Price $368,000 base
Ballast ratio 28
Sail Area/Displacement Ratio 19.9
Displacement/Length Ratio 157

Boat Test: Moody 45DS

2012-04-16T15:33:00.000-04:00

Moody Yachts were built in Swanwick, England, on the banks of the Hamble River from the middle of the 18th century into the early years of the 21st, and Bill Dixon has been designing Moody’s cruising boats since 1981. But there’s nothing traditional about the Moody DS45. It represents a radical step into the future from this well-established builder, which is now owned by Germany’s Hanse Yachts. I jumped aboard in Jamestown, Rhode Island to do a test for SAIL Magazine, to see just how comfortable this futuristic cruising boat could be—and how it performs under sail.

CONSTRUCTION

The hull is built with vinylester resin and fiberglass over a Corecell foam core and is stiffened with a solid fiberglass grid. The fiberglass deck is cored with balsa and is also set in vinylester resin. Overall construction quality is good. A nearly plumb bow and squared-off transom maximize sailing length, and the stainless steel anchor roller extends well forward, almost like a mini bowsprit, to keep the hook clear of the stem.

Below the waterline the DS45 boasts a pair of shallow semi-balanced rudders to ensure good control even when the beamy hull is well heeled. Ballast is concentrated in a bulb on the L-shaped keel; draft is 6 feet 4 inches.

ON DECK

Where do I start? The stern and cockpit area, like that of a catamaran, is wide open and set low in the hull to provide direct one-level access into the main saloon. This configuration is markedly more comfortable when hanging out on the hook than narrower, taller more “protected” traditionally designed monohull cockpits.

The drop-down swim platform is huge, and as on a catamaran, the cockpit has a fully integrated “roof” equipped with a retractable canvas center section to increase mainsail visibility (or simply improve stargazing) while under sail. The wide side decks are protected by sturdy, nearly knee-high bulwarks topped with a stainless steel handrail. There are dual helms with wide helm seats, significant cockpit locker capacity and long, deep, comfortable cockpit seats.

The double-ended mainsheet runs aft through a pair of recessed races along with all the other sail controls to banks of clutches right by the helms.

ACCOMMODATIONS

Again, there are no companionway steps—you simply step through the full-sized sliding glass door straight into a saloon equipped with a large settee, forward-facing nav and helm station, a good-sized galley and—best of all—a wraparound view out of the outside world. Pretty cool. Headroom is excellent, and the settee is big enough to comfortably seat six. The smallish galley has decent counter space, and the interior helm station will be the place to be on any offshore passage. Like the cockpit, the saloon will also be a very comfortable place to hang out while on the hook, especially in inclement weather.

Two shallow steps (the only ones on the boat) lead from the saloon down to two guest cabins, two heads and a master cabin that together occupy the space forward of the cockpit. The hull’s wide profile allows the two guest cabins to be oriented either side of a passageway leading to the owner’s stateroom in the bow. Other configurations are available, but no matter which you choose, the guest cabins have decent stowage, comfortable bunks and access to their own head. The owner’s stateroom has excellent headroom, and includes a number of hatches and fixed hull ports for superior light and ventilation.

UNDER SAIL
Due to those wide hindquarters that make the cockpit so lounge-friendly, I was not expecting the DS45 to perform brilliantly under sail. But in perfect test conditions—10-12 knots of breeze, flat water and sunny skies on Narragansett Bay—the hull cut a surprisingly clean wake, and the helm felt smooth and responsive.

Upwind the boat was well-balanced and almost sailed itself in a wide groove, with speeds in the 6-knot range. The self-tacking jib made tacking a simple singlehanded operation. Tacking angles were not stellar, but they were decent enough, given the superior comfort provided by the wide stern.

My only complaint was with the sightlines forward. I found myself constantly trying to look over or around the coachroof when steering, even when the canvas center portion was retracted. There’s no open view forward from anywhere else in the cockpit either. Instead, you have to look through the companionway and the forward-facing windows in the saloon to see where you’re going.

Many catamarans have similar cockpit visibility issues, but they also generally have their helm stations perched high enough that you can see over the coachroof and get a good view forward. That said, during a passage offshore I’d probably spend a lot of my time at the interior helm station, which has excellent visibility forward. Personally, the visibility issue would not be a deal-breaker for me, especially since I found the cockpit and accommodations to be so comfortable at anchor. Nonetheless, it is something to consider.

UNDER POWER
Motoring performance was spectacular. With the standard 106hp Volvo diesel and three-bladed folding propeller, I recorded 8.5 knots of boatspeed while motoring at 2,000 rpm. At full throttle we made 10 knots; maneuvering under power was positive and predictable, thanks to the boat’s twin rudders. Engine room noise was muted, even at full throttle.

CONCLUSION
Kudos to Bill Dixon and Moody Yachts for redefining what’s possible on a 45-foot cruising monohull. I loved the interior and cockpit spaces—especially at anchor—and was pleasantly surprised by the boat’s performance under sail. This boat’s not for everyone, but if you’re bored with conventional designs and want to own a piece of the future, the Moody DS45 may just be what you’re looking for.

SPECIFICATIONS

HEADROOM 6ft 4in

BERTHS 6ft 7in X 5ft 5in (master); 6ft 6in X 5ft 5in (guest)

LOA 45ft // LWL 42ft 5in

BEAM 14ft 2in // Draft 6ft 4in

DISPLACEMENT 30,864lb

BALLAST 9,479lb

SAIL AREA 1,126 ft2 (100% FT)

FUEL/WATER/WATER (Gal) 158/211/26

ENGINE 106 HP Volvo with saildrive

ELECTRICAL 90AH (engine); 3 x 150 AH (house)

DESIGNER Dixon Yacht Design

BUILDER Moody Yachts, moodyboats.com

U.S. DISTRIBUTOR Berthon USA, 401-846-8404 berthonusa.com

PRICE $561,400

BALLAST RATIO 30

SAIL AREA-DISPLACEMENT RATIO 18

DISPLACEMENT-LENGTH RATIO 178

Sailors Killed and Missing off the California Coast

2012-04-16T08:57:00.002-04:00

Carolyn Jones of the San Francisco Chronicle has filed this report on a deadly accident that occurred in the Full Crew Farallones Race this weekend:

"The Bay Area's tightly knit sailing community was reeling Sunday after one of the region's most catastrophic boating disasters in decades - the wreck of a racing yacht near the Farallon Islands that killed one sailor and left four missing.

The wreck happened Saturday when 12-foot waves pummeled the sailboat during the Full Crew Farallones Race and hurled it onto rocks at the Farallon Islands, pitching most of the crew overboard. Three sailors were rescued from the scene, but one, Marc Kasanin, 46, of Belvedere died in the water and four more disappeared in the waves.

Coast Guard and National Guard rescuers were still scouring the choppy waters 27 miles west of the Golden Gate for the missing sailors Sunday evening, while hundreds of mourners filed into the San Francisco Yacht Club in Belvedere, which managed the race and was the home club of the ill-fated vessel.

Members, many weeping, placed white roses and votive candles at the elite club's entrance and barred the public from the grieving inside. One friend of several members of the wrecked boat's crew, Brian Swift of Tiburon, said the families of the missing and the dead were in "utter shock" and thanking club members for their support.

"It's a tragedy of unbelievable proportions," said club director Ed Lynch. "It doesn't affect just this club, it affects sailors all over the world. It's going to hit us hard for a long, long time.

"We're all deeply saddened," he said."

Click here for the complete story.

Boat Test: Jeannueau Sun Odyssey 379

2012-04-11T09:15:00.001-04:00

I had a feeling that the Marc Lombard-designed Jeanneau Sun Odyssey 379 would be fun to sail even before I took one out in 20-to-25 knots of breeze. That’s because I’d sailed the first of the similarly re-designed Sun Odysseys—the 409—last year, and it wasn’t hard to imagine the folks at Jeannueau serving up all the performance and comfort of the 409 in a slightly smaller, 37-foot package. But nothing I’d experienced on the 409 could have prepared me for the sheer joy sailing the 379 in a stiff wind. And my positive sailing experience was even more remarkable because the model we tested was equipped with the shoal draft wing keel that only draws 4 ft 11 inches.

How is a “joyful” upwind sailing experience in over 20 knots of breeze on a shoal draft boat possible you ask? Simple. The 379 I was testing was equipped with twin rudders (along with twin wheels) and a well-designed keel. We also tucked in the first reef and took in a couple turns on the headsail. The wind was whipping, and boat has a pretty steep heel in the puffs, but the helm was always light and refreshingly balanced thanks to the leeward rudder that’s always deep and perfectly positioned to provide positive control. There was no fighting to keep the boat from rounding up and there was just the perfect amount of weather helm. I’m sure the boat’s hard chine aft also contributed to its superior control at bigger heel angles in the puffs. I’m also pretty sure that the deeper-keel, single rudder option will probably produce slightly better tacking angles, and be slightly quicker due to less wetted surface, but I’m sold on the magic of twin rudders.

All other sailing performance metrics seem a bit mundane in light of the 379’s stellar upwind performance. We accelerated up to 7.5 knots and then hovered close to that speed on all points of sail. Visibility was excellent from the dual helm stations. The cockpit table provided excellent brace points for the crew and well positioned, molded-in wedges behind each wheel provide excellent footing for the helmsman, even at steep heel angles.

Singlehanders and Wednesday night racers will like the German mainsheet system that makes it easy to trim the main from either side of the cockpit, and the jib sheets that lead back through stoppers to winches adjacent the helm stations. But, as with all boats set up with the main sheet and a jib sheet often needing the same winch (or for one sheet to be locked off in a stopper—not ideal if you need to ease quickly in an emergency), tacking and gybing can require some planning. Shifting sheets on the winches when we needed to do a controlled gybe in the 20-knot breeze was doable, but I’d have been easier if the mainsheet had simply been routed to a cabin top winch.

Otherwise, the deck lay out worked beautifully. I liked the wide cockpit, comfortable seats, and the large retractable swim platform. When it’s open, the swim platform significantly increases the cockpit deck space makes it super easy to board the boat from the stern and it provides a wonderful sense of security in the cockpit when it’s closed. It also has a clever purchase system hidden under the port helm seat.
Good sized lockers under the cockpit and helm seats will swallow fenders, dock lines, and other gear. The chart plotter rotates to be easily visible from either helm station and the other instrument read outs are right where you want them by the helms. I also appreciated the double bow roller, windlass, and deep anchor locker. But most boats deliver those essentials. In my opinion, what distinguishes the 379 (along with its excellent sailing performance) is the fact that the chines, the hull ports, the narrow tinted windows in the coach roof, the wide stern, plumb bow, and even the synthetic, maintenance-free, teak toe rail (that I honestly thought was real) all work in harmony to produce a truly attractive boat with clean modern lines.

The boat’s clean, modern aesthetic is logically carried down into the accommodation plan. The main saloon features a large settee, a good-sized head, and an L-shaped galley at the foot of the companionway stairs. The light colored varnished woodwork and white headliner help the space feel warm and open, while a single opening hatch and two small opening ports provide ventilation. The long, straight settee seats can double as functional sea berths and the aft-facing chart table is big enough to handle a chart kit. Well-placed hand holds in the headliner and along the coachroof provide security when you need to move around while under way. The galley has plenty of counter space and copious stowage and the single head has all the essentials, including a separate shower stall.
If it was easy to forget we were on a 37-footer in the main saloon, it becomes more apparent in the sleeping cabins. The forward cabin has a V-shaped berth and limited standing room that forward cabins on most sub-40 footers usually have. That said, it’s a perfectly comfortable cabin for two. There’s good lighting, plenty of stowage, and decent ventilation thanks to an opening hatch. The guest cabins aft have larger rectangular berths but more limited ventilation.

We had so much fun sailing, I almost forgot to record the engine data. But I can report that the standard 29 horsepower Yanmar performed well. We were able to get up to 6.5 knots of boat speed powering into the stiff breeze at full throttle (3,500 rpm); speed was about 5.5 knots at 2,700 rpm. Engine noise was obviously noticeable in the main saloon, but not absurdly so. It was a bit tricky backing into the slip in the stiff cross breeze, but the boat behaved beautifully in close quarters.

Lots of boats call themselves be good looking and rewarding to sail. And lots of boats are designed to be comfortable at sea and in port. And still more boats try to do all these things in less than 40 feet of LOA. But after my test in over 20 knots of breeze, I can honestly say that the Jeannueau Sun Odyssey 379 comes closer to accomplishing all these goals than most. It was a blast to sail. It was easy to sail. It was comfortable to sail. It’s accommodations plan was spacious and stylish. And to my mind, Jeannueau is helping define what a modern cruising boat should be. What more could you want?

Specifications
LOA 37ft 2in // LWL 34ft 1in
Beam 12ft 4in // Draft 6ft 4in (std); 4ft 11in (opt)
Displacement 14,771 lb
Sail Area 754 sq ft
Fuel/Water/Waste (Gal) 34/53/19
Engine 29 HP Yanmar (sail drive)
Designer Marc Lombard/Jeanneau Design
Builder Jeannueau Yachts Les Herbiers, France
U.S. Distributor Jeannueau America,
Price $181,075 base

Cruising Cape Cod and Martha's Vineyard

2012-02-11T21:55:00.000-05:00

Cape Cod. Just saying the words evoke wonderful summery images: sand dunes, seasonal jobs, soft air, and the glassy still anchorages of my gloriously misspent youth. My parents brought us as kids—I was the adorably demonic child that scared the crap out of them by literally sailing off over the horizon in the Sunfish. And my awkward adolescence was made even awkwarder by the proximity of bikini-clad girls on the Cape’s outer beaches. And ah, yes…..the summers away from college. I’ve faint memories of waiting tables, fake ID’s, awkward eagerness around more bikini clad girls, and exalting in the loving lap of summer on The Cape—at least until it was time to go back to school. Right after college, I even spent a summer living like a savage aboard a palatial, 60’s vintage, 24-foot Bahama Islander with 4-foot headroom, and a 4-foot draft fixed keel that I ran aground on every damn sand bar the Cape had to offer. But that was, um, some time ago.

So, even into my adult life, this Cape-centric view of summer meant that the numerous other cool summer hotspots in my native northeast—coastal Maine, “The Islands” of the Cape and the Islands, and even such far off exotic destinations like…Narragansett Bay—went virtually uncruised, until friends and soon-to-be charter companions, Nick and Tery, made a remarkable suggestion. We were kicking around some remote, have-to-fly-to-get-there summer charter destinations when they simply said: “Why don’t we just cruise around the Cape and Islands?”

Duhh. We all live in the Boston area. My wife was newly pregnant and we all agreed that we needed to go sailing to “chill out”. So, chartering a boat—literally in our back yard—and cruising to places in the Preppie Promised Land like Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket (that yours truly, Mr. Experienced Cruiser/Cape Cod Lover/sorta-psuedo-preppie, had never actually cruised to), sounded a lot more relaxing than trying to get four extremely busy people to Greece so we could Med-moor and “chill out” with every other Euro on "holiday." I’m glad someone was thinking. Let the chillin’ begin!

And chill we did as soon as our the owner of the nearly brand-new Jeanneau Sun Odyssey 42 we’d chartered from Swift Yachts, concluded his lengthily pre-departure orientation. Like all charter companies operating in cruising grounds that have high seasons spanning weeks rather than months, the good folks at Swift Yachts don’t own the boats they charter. But they did deftly facilitate our charter with the person who did. He checked to make sure we checked out. We did, eventually, and were off. But in the spirit of relaxation, we didn’t want to sail too far. Our first day goals were simple, stow our copious provisions, get off the dock where we picked the boat up in Warren, Rhode Island, on the northwestern shores of Narraganset Bay, and be in a pretty anchorage by nightfall. Easy. The cruising guide and our helpful owner suggested picturesque Dutch Harbor on Jamestown Island as our first stop. It was only 10 miles down the Bay.

A pleasant voice over the radio directed us to our mooring for the night, and the same pleasant voice welcomed us to Dutch Harbor in person when she picked us up in the launch to bring us into “town.” The “town” of Jamestown is a pleasant walk up the road from Dutch and has all the things you need—quaint houses, smiling locals, and a few restaurants and ice cream shops—when you go ashore during a summer charter. We returned to the boat with full bellies, relaxed minds, and a plan for the week that had taken shape over dinner. Our first day was a short one, but the next was going be longer. We all wanted to visit Cuttyhunk, and Martha’s Vineyard, on our week-long chill out charter, but, over dinner, we also agreed that we really wanted to sail too. So, the adventure of trying to get all the way out to Nantucket (well over 75 miles away) and back, was a possibility too. The weather forecast looked good, and if we were lucky, we’d have just enough time to pull it off, but only if we covered some significant ground almost every day. So, we planned on making a bee-line for Cuttyhunk in the morning.

The broth-like fog.

As is often the case when you get back to cruising after its been a while, we all breathed a bit easier as we putt-putted out of the marina and into the sailing playground that Narragansett Bay becomes on a sunny Saturday afternoon in Mid-July. We exhaled even deeper when we set the sails, shut the engine down, and were left with only the sounds of our gurgling wake. Just perfect. The southerly sea breeze was strong enough to move us along, but not so stiff as to require any great effort to trim sails and slice our way to windward. Since it was a steamy afternoon, and we didn’t have too far to go, a quick swim off Prudence Island was in order. Any remaining land-based cares melted away as we bobbed off the stern. Then it was on to dinner and the sunset off the western side of Jamestown.

When we awoke, the boat was enveloped in a summer haze the constancy of weak broth. The haze provided an eerie backdrop, but wasn’t too tough to navigate through until if finally, several hours after we departed Dutch, the muggy broth burned off, and Cuttyhunk came into view. Each of us had quickly settled into the peaceful rhythm of motorsailing over the flat seas—easy autopilot passages are way conducive to chilling out—but we were excited about or upcoming landfall as well. Nick had been to Cuttyhunk Harbor many times before, but the narrow entrance, and the boats that get packed in like sardines, and even the crazy airstrip next to the harbor channel where we actually saw a small prop plane land as we were getting our mooring sorted out was new to the rest of us. Our 0630 start in Narragansett Bay allowed us to cover the roughly 35 miles get to notoriously crowded Cutty early enough to find an available mooring. We grabbed it, then grabbed a late lunch in the cockpit, and then loaded up our backpacks for a run into shore. We newbies were eager to experience the Cuttyhunk coolness that Nick raved about when we planed our itinerary, and it didn’t disappoint.

Cuttyhunk is classic Cape and the Islands cool.

I don’t know if it’s part of every cruisers DNA, (like the compulsion to wear crocs or carry a rigging knife tied to a belt loop with a “lanyard”), but we were compelled to climb to the highest point of the island almost as soon as we set foot on dry land. Why is that? We all agreed that this was going to be our “chill out” cruise, yet there we were, driven, seemingly by some strange Yankee instinct to work up a sweat humping uphill in the heat of the day to take in “the view.” I hope some of you out there can relate to this curious compulsion. But, as it always seems to be in hindsight, it was worth it. Not only did we get a feel for this charming little island we’d spent several hours sailing through broth-like haze to get to, we also swapped sweaty stories under sunny skies with other like-minded “cruiser/climbers” we encountered who were obviously on similar expeditions. It was fun and made swimming off the beach over on the western side of the island even more refreshing. And then it was “time for tea.”

No, you’ve not happened upon an episode of Downton Abbey. Tea time is one of the many decadences that cruising makes possible for us busy people, and for us at least, it doesn’t get more “chill” than watching the sun start to set and the world go by in the late afternoon with tea or coffee and a chocolate treat under the bimini in the cockpit. Tea time flows effortlessly into cocktail hour. Dinner flows seamlessly out of that, and then we were gazing up at the twinkling stars, and talking about tomorrow’s destination—The Preppie Promised Land—Martha’s Vineyard.

Does this man look like a pseudo-preppie to you?

We knew we could swing the early morning departure, and we liked the mooring availability it afforded us in Cutty (the anchorage in Cutty fills up by the early afternoon pretty regularly during the height of the summer), so we agreed that a getting an early start, and covering the miles to busy Edgartown Harbor would get us there in time for tea. And unlike the previous morning, we were treated to a classic, blue sky, warm water whitecap reach in 15 knots of breeze down Vineyard Sound. The Chamber of Commerce couldn’t have drawn up any better and we experienced why the cruising in this part of the world is so good—when the weather cooperates. The boat was sizzling along. The crew was happy. And the untamed beauty of the Vineyard and Elizabethan islands we barreled past was simply a sight to behold. We didn’t even need to harden up to much as we rounded the southern tip of the Vineyard and close reached past the touristy, ferry port towns of Vineyard Haven and Oak Bluffs on our way to preppie paradise in Edgartown.

We were basking in the glow of those perfect days that remind us why sailing is so cool, when another pleasant voice on the radio was directing us to a yellow mooring in Edgartown Harbor. And the college kid in charge of the mooring field called me “Cap’n.” I’m embarrassed to admit, but, I still like it when they call me “Cap’n,” and moreover, we’d arrived! There were friends in town we wanted to visit. And bikes we wanted to rent and ride. And ice cream cones we wanted to eat before they melted. And more than anything else, we were ready to roam among the preppies in their native habitat. Thankfully there was no real hill, apart from the social register, to climb. And we’d finished climbing.

The two days we’d allocated to visiting this vacation spot for presidents and media moguls alike, simply flew. We rode bikes all over town, and shopped, and ate at over priced, um, I mean, nice waterfront restaurants, and literally assimilated into the summer preppie scene. The land based friends and their cute kids said “Can’t you stay another day?” And Caroline and Tery admitted more time to do some shopping wouldn’t be all bad, but we still hoped to knock Nantucket off the list too. And that just wasn’t going to be possible if we dallied in Edgartown any longer.

The weather, however, didn’t really care about our “plans,” and the forecast—steady 30-40 knot winds with higher gusts—for the day we’d “planned” to make the jump over to Nantucket really made the decision for us. Sure we could have sailed in those conditions, and we did get up in the morning and take the launch out to the boat with the hope that things would be calmer than forecasted, but they just weren’t. The wind howled through the mooring field and the launch was elbow-to-elbow with folks like us who decided it just wasn’t worth it. Oh the horror! “Trapped” in Edgartown in July. It was like some crazy kind of reverse snow day. We indulged in a lazy lunch and “chilled out” in the shade on our land-based friend’s shore side deck like we were getting away with something. Brilliant.

But then we slowly started counting the bread crumbs and coming to terms with the fact that after three of our six available nights were spent in Edgartown, it was time to start heading back. Obviously it wasn’t as far as it would have been if we’d pushed on to Nantucket, but we still had to sail a good chunk of miles cover in order return the boat back to that marina in far off Warren, Rhode Island, on time.

No Biggie. We just planned on one big push to get from Edgartown back to where we started, essentially, Dutch Harbor in southern Narragansett Bay. We’d spend the night there before the final, 10-mile push to return the boat by the requisite 1000 check-in time. Yep, you guessed it. Early morning departure. Easy autopilot cruising. Lunch in the cockpit while the same islands we marveled at several days before, passed by on the other side of the boat. We punched through Quicks Hole (the narrow passage between the islands of Naushon and Pasque) in the early afternoon, pulled into Cuttyhunk for a quick top up of fuel (even if we’d had time to stay there were no available moorings), and then chased the setting sun back to Jamestown.

When we finally pulled up the same Dutch Harbor mooring we’d used on our outbound track, there was no need to go into town. It’d been a long day. We were tired and refreshed, and the sun was setting, spectacularly. Tea time was spent at sea, but we sure made it in time for cocktail hour. It was then, as we basked in the crazy golden light of our last sunset onboard, that we finally chilled out.

Cruising in Cuba

2012-01-27T11:08:00.000-05:00

Note: My friends John and Caroline Charnley are currently cruising aboard Discovery Magic, their 50 catamaran. They're also English, so, they don't have any restrictions when it comes to cruising in Cuba, and they've graciously agreed to provide this in-depth account of their visit for us US residents who are so close, yet so far, from Cuba's shores. And let this be an open invite to any potential guest bloggers out there. Share your stories with us!--Bill

Story and Photos by John and Caroline Charnley

We spent a week in Cuba: three days based in Marina Hemingway, whilst we visited Havana and some of the west of Cuba; and the rest of the time sailing the 300 nautical miles around the coast to Cayos Largo on the south coast, where we could check out in order to head to Grand Cayman. Cuba is poor, basic and struggling. Yet is has great wealth in its colonial ancestry and its history. The people are in awe of Fidel Castro, respectful of Raoul, accepting of their lot, and apprehensive of change. They are open and charming, yet strangely have little interest in (or perhaps don’t feel that they should be asking about) the lives of those who visit their country.

Having been told how poor and run-down Cuba was, we was taken aback as we travelled the ten miles in to the city of Havana: not by the fact that the country is obviously struggling from the years of economic hardship, but by the scale and opulence of its past.

Now used as embassies and business bases, the grand houses of what had been the wealthy Miramar district have retained their ornate facades, sweeping stairways, - some with ornate wrought-iron entrances to once-formal gardens. Today the avenue into the city is still elegant with Royal Palms standing erect and high above the neatly manicured area that divides the two highways. It is used both as a fitness track and a means to walk in to town.

We hadn’t appreciated that the Plaza de la Revolucion, where Castro famously made rallying speeches to the masses that crammed this vast area, was planned under Batista. Now, not only does it give homage to Castro and Che Guevara, with their images each adorning the side of an eight-storey building, but it also has a dramatic tower that is a memorial to Jose Marti. He is seen as a father figure in the liberation from the Spanish in 1878. We enjoyed both the museum dedicated to him and the panoramic city view from the top of the tower.

Being driven past a sea of tower-blocks, a huge Italianate church – forlorn with boarded windows and a forest of flag poles that once marked the US embassy, we came to the Malecon.. (If I knew where it was on the keyboard I would have put a cedilla under the ‘c’.) This is a four mile seafront promenade, flanked by faded-pastel buildings of arches and balconies. Many of these are empty-shells or even just the front facade shored-up, but some are being restored and new uses found for them. One can’t help wondering about the fate of the many similar buildings that stretch back from the seafront, street by street. Oh for some investment and a little imagination!

As you come to Centro Havana, so you travel back in time to a European city of the early 20th Century. The neo-classical Capitol building, set in Parque Central, and the Gran Teatro, with its elaborate curved balconies, are just two of the manifestations of affluence that was lavished on this city from the 1800s to the 1920s. Other buildings show the hallmarks of upmarket shops and gracious living that was once Havana. Although a lot of the buildings are languishing, we were encouraged in seeing what a difference the restoration work was making to the Opera House (built 1837) and ballet school: for instance, craftsmen are working on the lavish decorations of the vast ballroom, which can now be hired for private functions.

The ‘Old Havana’ district is all about life. With no traffic in this area, it’s a great place to have a Cuban coffee and just people-watch. This is the heart of the tourist area, with good reason. Open squares, narrow streets with arched colonnades and overhanging balconies of elegant ironwork; plus numerous possibilities to step through a doorway in to the shade of an intriguing courtyard……

American 1950s car are a quintessential image of Havana. Look at any street and you will see their curvy trunks and bonnets awkwardly protruding beyond the rest of the line. But for us tourists they are great! (The other great icon – the Cuban cigar – was rarely to be seen.)

Live music is everywhere: three men playing in the square, a whole band at the restaurant, someone practicing the violin in the shaded recess of an arched courtyard…. Dancing, too. It was great to get a glimpse of the practice session at the famous ballet school, but we were able to both to watch the diligence of a flamenco class and see its passion at a local restaurant. The arts are of the people and for them, not just for the tourists. Amazingly, the opera house has a different performance each week and for the Cubans the cost is about 30 cents.

Seen as an event of historical significance, the Pope visited Cuba in 1998. Until just before that time, the Cathedral de San Cristobal had been closed to all. Whilst this is a well-maintained place of worship, many buildings have crumpled faces of old age and bodies of neglect. But again, there is hope. The medical school that was part of the university and started in 1738 has been restored, as has the Plaza de Armas, with its Baroque buildings and colonial atmosphere. There is certainly a rich heritage that may yet survive the financial paucity and political stalemate of today. Religion currently appears to play little part in people’s lives.

Transport is a real issue. Our driver is the proud owner of a shiny Lada, lovingly maintained, washed everyday and home to a lot of Toyota parts to keep it going. He inherited it in 1987 from his father, who had been a government official and thus allowed to have a car. At least there are no traffic jams and it was novel to be able to walk across the ten-lane highway going through Plaza de la Revolucion with just a cursory glance in either direction. The transport issue is, of course, greatest in rural areas and small towns. It used to be that if there was someone wanting a lift you were obliged to give them a lift. This no longer seems to be the case and sometimes as many as twenty people would be waiting in the hope of a lift, seeking refuge from the intense heat in the shade of a bridge. Others ride pillion on bicycles, use a mule and cart, a tractor or peddle tricycle. The buses (often they were trucks) that we did see, were completely packed.

The only internet available is to tourist in some hotels. (Incidentally, it seems that it was only four or five years ago that Cubans were allowed to enter a hotel.) There are great shortages and even as a tourist you would be fortunate to find anything that could be described as a gastronomic delight. When offered a menu, most of the choice was unavailable and the six main dishes all have rice and beans as their main ingredient.

It seems that the rations people have are difficult to eek out and luxuries, including milk and beef, are very expensive and difficult to get. (On a wage of 45 CUC[$45US] plus some local pesos per month, milk is 1.86 CUC per quart.) All farm produce is handed over to the government, although on the main highway locals were holding out cheese, cooked chicken, even suckling pig, in the hope that a passing driver might stop. In Nueva Gerona, on the south coast, we saw people fishing by floating on rubber inner tubes, whilst others waded out with their nets: presumably they are allowed to keep what they catch.

Of the 11 million population, nearly 4 million live in Havana. Whilst we didn’t go to anyone’s home, we were told how cramped and basic accommodation is. Newly weds are almost certain to be living with older generations. The glimpse we had of some living areas was shocking, with the dingy ground floor of an old building housing several families in what were not more than shacks.
The export market for sugar cane collapsed in the ‘90s when perestroika changed Cuba’s trading relationship with the Soviet Union... The rick red soil of the flat plains to the west of Havana looked very fertile and again you are left wondering about the potential. If only ....

We didn’t have time to explore much the mountains, but they are lush with tropical vegetation. Some of the bigger limestone caves are a major tourist attraction, as is the Valley de Vinales. Here mogotes (gigantic karst formations) rise dramatically from the valley floor, which in itself is an attractive landscape of corn and tobacco fields.

As for the sailing? We only sailed the western half of Cuba. It is a long coastline with few harbours that one is allowed to stop and unless you tuck in close to the coast you are against the Gulf Stream. At each port there is lengthy paperwork for checking in and out. I am sure if you had time there are many lovely beaches to explore and certainly some amazing diving and snorkeling. (In one bay the 200m contour line of the sea bed cuts across the entrance to the harbour and then goes to just a few meters, providing a home to a stunning array of sea life.). We didn’t find it the sailing particularly pleasurable and we certainly felt solitary. John has already written about the political situation – which is fascinating. This country, however, is well worth a visit, but more so for the enquiring traveller rather than just a vacation destination.

First Look: Catalina 385

2012-01-23T10:05:00.002-05:00

It's good to see the folks at Catalina continue to launch new models like the 385 and it's obvious that Catalina's long-time designer Gerry Douglas knows what his customers want. He consistently delivers well thought out models like the 385 that invariably have the Catalina "look" while also improve on previous designs.

According to advanced reports, the 385 is the latest in the new line of Catalinas that began with the 445 and was followed by the 355. And it's east to see that the 385 uses the successful design features and proportions--moderate beam carried well aft for a spacious cockpit, modest freeboard for reduced windage, and an innovative interior--that all Catalinas have become known for.

Some of the 385's refinements include: a collision bulkhead aft of the anchor locker, contoured helm seating, molded instrument pods at the helm with convenient primary winches and a new backstay system. The mast support system features Catalina’s unique SecureSocket™ chain plates for superior load resolution. An optional asymmetrical spinnaker is optimized by a removable Selden bowsprit that can be stored in the anchor locker when not in use.

Below, Catalina uses teak and teak veneers for classic warmth, hand-finished with clear varnishes to preserve its natural beauty with less maintenance. A navigation desk with recessed laptop compartment has dedicated power ports. The custom Catalina electrical panel is neatly concealed behind a tinted acrylic door that allows for continual monitoring of power use, with a wiring system engineered for easy access.

The main cabin has generous seating with a custom folding table, and a port dinette that easily converts to a single berth. A linear cabinet has plenty of storage and maintains open site lines through the cabin. Polished handrails and fittings complement the teak interior cabinetry. The galley is optimized for convenience at sea or at the dock.

The owner’s cabin is forward with a custom, articulating innerspring mattress; an electrical lift is available for more comfortable reading or viewing TV. Guest accommodations are aft with a large double berth and storage lockers. A spa-style head and large shower complements its roomy interior.

According to Douglas, Catalina’s philosophy is straightforward: Design boats that stand up to real world conditions and sail well. They must be comfortable above and below, easy to maintain and hold their value.

The 385 appears to do just that.

Christmas in the Caribbean

2012-01-06T21:58:00.004-05:00

Sunrise over the Tobago Cays was one of many high points on our Christmas cruise in the Windward Islands.

It may be only 8 degrees Fahrenheit as I type these words in front of the fireplace here in the northeast, but the cold is just a little bit easier to take considering the fact that we've just returned from 8 glorious days sailing with good friends John and Caroline Charnley aboard Discovery Magic, their 50-foot catamaran from Grenada up to St Lucia.

St. Lucia's Pitons provide a stunning backdrop to any Christmas cruise.

We even were able to avoid the whole Christmas industrial complex here in the states and celebrate Christmas morning anchored peacefully off Petit St. Vincent in the southern most point of the Grenadines. Ahhh, What's not to love about a Caribbean Christmas? We indulged in swimming off the sterns in warm blue water, and a walking on white sand beaches. Jack Frost was no where to be found and you know what? We didn't miss him at all. Our trip started by taking an island tour of Grenada on the day before Christmas.

Grenada

Our first stop was this fantastic waterfall-fed swimming hole that John is obviously enjoying. Grenada and the other Windward islands that form the southern end of the island chain are so much more lush than the Leeward islands to the north. Ample fresh water makes Grenada--The Spice Island--the ideal place to grow Nutmeg and other items.

There's something timeless about this shot.

I snapped this shot during our tour of a nutmeg processing house in the busy fishing village of Gouyave on the west coast of the island. A good chunk of the world's nutmeg still comes from Grenada even though production has decreased significantly in recent years due to many of the trees on the being damaged in hurricanes. It was a fascinating place that seemed to just breath history. We all could sense that the process of drying and getting the nutmeg ready to shipped all over the world had gone on unchanged for generations.

And then we went to the rum distillery that's literally been turning sugar cane into rum since 1783.

River Antoine Rum has been produced on this site since 1785.

Crazy to realize that sugar cane has been boiled in these vats to make rum since the late 1700's. But honestly, it looked (and smelled) exactly like that.

I thought rum distilling would have been, ummm, cleaner.

You could feel the history in this iron cane presser (powered by a water wheel, hence the "River Antoine" moniker) that'd been brought over on a British merchant ship in the late 1700's. And it's still in use today! Talk about built to last.

On our way back to the boat in St. Georges Harbour on the southern end of the island, we stopped in the rain forest where we met some friendly--hungry--monkeys. We didn't want to get to close, but Caroline was the bravest and offered up the bananas that our savvy driver picked up for us on the way.

These monkeys knew a good thing when they saw it. Our little friend here almost couldn't finish his banana and reminded Caroline a little bit of our cute cats back home.

We were tired and happy when we returned in time to celebrate a quiet Christmas Eve on the boat. John and Caroline investigated midnight mass in the Cathedral in St Georges while Caroline and I tried to catch up on sleep. We'd only been in the tropical heat for hours at that point, plus we wanted to be fully rested before heading out on the 30 mile trip north up to Petit St Vincent and Union Island in the Grenadines.

The Grenadines

I snapped this shot of our hosts John and Caroline as the sun set on a fantastic, Christmas day in the Tropics. After a rocking passage from Grenada, we settled right in to the anchorage off Petit St. Vincent. Ahhh, it felt so good to finally be swimming in the blue water off the back of the boat. We even made an amphibious landing on the beach as just let the gentle waves slowly wash the stress away. We were of early the next morning. Off to the Tobago Cays.

Tobago Cays

The Tobago Cays lived up to their reputation as one of the classic Caribbean anchorages. And while the crowd of boats that had the same idea of spending the holidays there that we did it didn't really bother me, I couldn't help but think that it'd probably be a bit more chill there as the season winds down. The boat boys were polite but man, they sure were persistent as well. But all in all--fabulous-- and what's not to love about surreally turquoise-blue water and an anchorage behind and ring of reef? It was a Joyuex Noel indeed. But we didn't dally for too long there. We had to cover some miles if we were to get to St Lucia (and John and Caroline were eventually going to meet up with other friends in Antigua, and other islands further north, and eventually be in Miami in February for the boat show) on time. So, poor us, we were off for the Mustique (the most exclusive island in the the Caribbean) in the morning.

Mustique gingerbread

After the more rough and tumble streets of Grenada and Union Islands, Mustique is almost too perfect. But can anything really be too perfect? We did a quick spin through "town" and shopped in the uber-exclusive shops pictured above, and went for a quick snorkel in the southern end of Britannia Bay before continuing our progress north to Sweet, Sweet Bequia.

My Caroline found some great local produce on the main drag in Bequia:

The fruit guys helped us feel so welcome.

While Captain John and Caroline were off to clear in at the Bequia customs office. It'd been two days since we left Grenada but e still had to clear into the country of St Vincent and the Grenadines.


Looks calm on the outside.......

But we weren't the only ones who were eager to take care of Customs formalities after the Christmas holidays.....


It was crowded, the line didn't move to fast, and ummm, there was no AC in there

Caroline and I definitely got the better duty in Bequia, and then we were off again to explore more of St Vincent. We happened upon this cool, little bay on St Vincent's southern tip. The perfect lunch spot and we had it all to ourselves.

The abandoned "Eco-Resort"among the palms on the beach and up the hill was "for sale" and we did ponder the possibility. It was truly a beautiful place with some fantastic snorkeling.

But we really wanted to get further north to be well poised for our passage over to St Lucia. And this is where we found an anchorage that had a distinct "South Pacific" feel. It's a small deep bay that required us to tie a stern line up to a palm tree on the beach. Of course the ubiquitous boat boys were there to help us get out line ashore.

Everything about this place--the light, the sounds of the birds and the peepers on shore, the clouds in the sky--was special. We'd have liked to spend a bit more time here but we were up and off by 0630 the next morning.

St Lucia


The Pitons make it really easy to make landfall in St Lucia. We saw these green skyscrapers from miles away.

We loved St Lucia. We grabbed a mooring at the base of the Petit Piton and luckily, Jason (pictured below) came to collect our fee to help protect the coral in the park.

It's over 100 feet deep at the base of the Piton. Mooring on a government maintained mooring made it easy.

The mooring feel was well worth it because the money goes to maintaining the moorings and protecting the coral, but more importantly, we met Jason. He not only sincerely welcomed us to St. Lucia, he picked us up after dinner and took us up to swim in the volcano on the back side of the Pitons. How cool it that? We were so grateful to get a decidedly non-tourist swim in the mineral-laden hot springs and we also learned all Jason and his family. It was fun and we made a friend. What a special night.

Here's John and Jason after our night time dip under the stars in the Volcano. What a wonderful host he was. We want to pay his kindness forward as soon as we can.


Marigot has fuel, provisions, wifi, several good restaurants and is also home to the Moorings charter base. And it was fitting that last boat boy visit was this guy. His boat was the smallest, he rowed instead of using an outboard, and he flew the Swiss flag. Priceless. We love the Windwards and we can't wait to go back.

And then sadly, we only had one night left. We were off to Marigot Bay. After pulling up to the fuel dock we got the boat settled back out into the anchorage the following evening. Then it was almost time to say goodbye to John and Caroline. They continued on up to Martinique while we sadly, had to return home to work and winter. But we know we'll be back. The Windwards are just too lush and sweet. I'm in love.

Catamaran Designer Chris White Rethinks the Catamaran Rig

2011-12-06T16:14:00.011-05:00

I've always been impressed with Chris White-designed catamarans. And now he's turned his attention to completely reinventing what a rig on an safe, speedy, and comfortable offshore-ready cruising catamaran can be. Check it out.
According to his website "The Chris White Designs MastFoil™ (patent pending) is a unique combination of modern rigid airfoil technology with proven soft sails. The basic concept is not new and you can see examples of large rigid wings and soft sails in the current America's Cup catamarans.

However, the main difference is that the MastFoil is a small part of the overall sail plan and can rotate 360 degrees around the load bearing mast which allows it to be feathered on any point of sail and in any wind velocity. Left alone, the foil will continuously feather if the control is set in that mode. Without this critical ability to feather on any heading, a rigid airfoil would typically not be suitable for use on a cruising boat. Another important difference is that the foil does not carry any of the mast compression loads. This enables the foil to be lightweight, structurally simple and rotate easily around the mast.

According to White, the mainsail, particularly the large roached, full battened mainsail combined with the aft-led-shroud, no-backstay-configuration that is used in most catamarans today, is by far the most troublesome sail to hoist, reef/unreef, furl and cover. In addition, mainsails create significant safety liabilities because they cannot be easily or quickly reefed or furled when sailing downwind. In violent squalls this feature has caused more than a few capsizes. The conventional catamaran mainsail can also be somewhat risky to gybe in a blow.

So he's replaced the mainsail with two, rotating wing masts that provide some pretty impressive benefits including:

The soft sails can be reefed and furled on any point of sail and in any wind velocity.
Simple and quick self tacking.
Super safe and effortless gybing.
The MastFoils add considerable drive to the sail plan despite their modest size. In stronger winds the MastFoils alone will provide enough power to sail in any direction.
The MastFoils are excellent storm sails. They create powerful drive, but minimal heeling forces because of their size and aspect ratio. The MastFoils are quiet, never flog, have very low "sheet" loads, and they can be trimmed for efficient operation in any wind direction.
The MastFoils can be easily feathered into the wind on any point of sail which makes them nearly "invisible" to the wind.

As you can see this is a pretty well thought out idea. And Chris has even told me that he has some unedited video of a prototype. I haven't seen any video yet. I'll post a clip as soon as I do. In the meantime, click here for more information.

Moody 45DS: Test Sail

2011-11-04T10:42:00.003-04:00

Here's a quick preview of the Moody 45DS.

Love the wide cockpit and the dual helms.

The cool thing about this boat is that there are no steps down into the saloon. The interior and exterior spaces blend together just as they do on a catamaran.

The hard cockpit roof has an innovative retractable section but the visibility from the helm stations is affected.


The galley can either be placed up in the saloon or further down in the hull

The retractable swim platform is enormous. I'd love to hang out on this boat in the tropics.

The cockpit lockers are cavernous.

Island Packet 360

2011-10-26T08:21:00.002-04:00

According to advanced reports, Island Packet's designer and President Bob Johnson continues to do what he does best--design and build seakindly full keel cruisers. His latest is the new 36-foot Island Packet 360.

Down below it has two cabins with easily accessed large berths and generous stowage areas. The head compartment has separate entries from the saloon or the forward stateroom, a sink vanity, electric flush head, and dedicated shower area with seat. The main saloon is open, bright and, with the hinged bulkhead mounted table able to be quickly dropped or stowed. The large settee to port converts into a double berth and has two reclining and swiveling arm chairs to starboard (a settee is available in lieu of chairs for those preferring this arrangement). The galley features twin refrigeration compartments, either or both of which may be used as a freezer at the push of a button, a gas range, microwave oven, and generous storage areas above and below the counter.

Since all IP keels don't require interior access for keel bolt inspection or related keel attachment maintenance and repair issues, all tankage on the 360 can be centrally located below the cabin sole in single large tanks, significantly increasing available stowage elsewhere in the yacht, minimizing trim changes with varying tank levels and lowering the center of gravity for improved stability. Eleven opening ports, numerous deck hatches and two Dorade vents keep the interior fresh and bright.

Gunboat 55

2011-10-25T12:04:00.002-04:00

Check out the new Gunboat 55 that's in the works.

Gunboat's are always aggressive. And the 55 is no different.

This latest model appears to be building upon the success of the Gunboat 48, but in fact, it seems even more aggressive if that's possible.

By the looks of it, the 55 appears to have one huge uninterrupted interior space from the mast to the aft crossbeam. For daysailing or cruising in warm weather, the aft end can remain open for the outdoor feel.

The best of both worlds in the open, yet protected cockpit.

In inclement weather, the aft end can be sealed up to create a cozy cocoon, albeit with Gunboat's unique 360 degree visibility. I like it.

It's all about speed.

According to advanced reports, the accomodations are restrained down below. There are simply two superyacht style cabins, one it each hull. Can't wait to see the real thing.

Jeanneau Sun Odyssey 379

2011-10-24T11:59:00.008-04:00

The folks at Jeannueau continue to re imagine what a new--a really new--cruising boat should look like. Like the entire new wave of the Sun Odyssey line, the 379 has the hard chine aft, dual helms, and low slung good looks that have been quite popular at the fall boat shows. And it just goes to show that people will continue to buy new boats as long as they have features that are not available on the used boat market.

The Sun Odyssey 379 has great lines for a sub-40-footer.

And these days, there aren't any used boats that look quite like this out there.

It's designed for both comfort and style.

The interior is clean and modern.

Comfortable at port or as a sea berth.

The galley has quite a bit of stowage.

The head

The nav station is a bit small but that's okay given the chart plotter in the cockpit.

Length overall : 11.34 m / 37'

Hull length : 10.98 m / 36'

Hull beam : 3.76 m / 12'

Light displacement : 6700 kg / 14740 lbs

Standard keel draft : 1.5 m / 5'

Fuel capacity : 130 L / 34 US GAL

Water capacity : 200 L / 53 US GAL

Cabins : 3

Motor : Yanmar 29Hp / 21Kw

CE Category : A8 / B10 / C12

Designer/s : Marc Lombard - Jeanneau design

Total standard sail area : 70 m² / 753 sq ft

New Photos of Joshua Slocum Uncovered in an Old Photo Album

2011-10-19T11:01:00.004-04:00

My wife’s grandmother Virginia was over 90 years old when she pulled a yellowed envelope containing four film negatives out of one of her many photo albums. Like we’d done many times before, she was sharing the memories of her adventurous life captured in those albums, and I was always enthralled with the places she’d been and the people she’d met, but the writing on the envelope: “Slocum 1906,” gave me goose bumps.

“Oh my God,” I said as I held one of the negatives to the light. “These are photos of Joshua Slocum and Spray.” In my excitement I foolishly asked, “Did you meet Joshua Slocum when you were a kid?!”

“No,” she said, “I don’t think so (she hadn’t been born yet). But my father probably would have gone down to the pier to see what was going on.”

“Hmmmm,” I thought. “Did my wife’s great grandfather meet the very first cruiser and even take pictures in 1906?” It’s totally possible. Generations of Virginia’s family had spent summers in Hyannisport, Massachusetts, and the Hyannisport coastline and pier are easily identifiable in the shots, but that’s about all I could find out. Virginia understood my excitement and my journalistic desire to know more about these fantastic, perhaps historically significant photographs, but she had to admit: “I really don’t know who took those pictures.”

So, I had prints made from the negatives and did a little digging. I found the iconic images and drawings of Slocum and Spray online, but none that matched what we had. Ted Jones, the Commodore of the Joshua Slocum Society International, could not confirm that the photos had never been published before, but he did say that he’d never seen them before. Several other Slocum sources yielded similar answers. I can’t say for sure that this photo has “never been seen before,” but the fact that we found negatives rather than a collection of prints lead me to believe that it very well could be.

But as I continued to look for clues in the 100-year-old photos, I realized I was missing the point. For me, they are simply a gift that helps me remember my connection to my wife’s grandmother who I loved, and has since died, and to Slocum who inspired me to get in way over my head, and survive, during my adventurous youth. So, I hope these photos help the memory of Slocum come alive and inspires you to go on an adventure just as much as they do for me.

Helicopter Rescue

2011-10-19T11:01:00.001-04:00

It was a nasty night, 250 miles off the North Carolina coast, when pilot Lt. Cdr. Jay Balda and his Coast Guard helicopter rescue team responded to the Mayday call. A sailboat with a crew of five was taking on water, and its life raft had been swept off the deck in gale force winds and 20-to-30-foot seas. A helicopter rescue was the frightened crew’s only hope.

Balda faced a daunting task: fly into the gale, find the small boat, which was being blown downwind at 4 knots, deploy a rescue swimmer in monster seas, and then pull the crew (and the rescue swimmer) up to his helicopter using a thin wire cable. He got three guys out of the water before the violent winds of the storm caused the winch wire to chafe on the side of the helicopter and jam. Now Balda had a limited fuel supply, a rescue swimmer in the water, two more crew on the boat, and no way to retrieve them. All he could do was call for another helo, drop some life rafts, and head back to base. Meanwhile, the rescue swimmer was repeatedly washed out of his raft (he eventually tied himself in), started to suffer from hypothermia, and was blown more than 2 miles away from the sailboat. The second helo arrived over an hour later and pulled the severely hypothermic rescue swimmer and the rest of the sailboat crew to safety. Just another day at the office.

Lt. Cdr. Balda recounted this story matter-of-factly on the morning I joined him and his crew for a training exercise off Rockport, Massachusetts. I’d heard similar stories before but had never considered exactly what was involved in a helicopter rescue. I wouldn’t know what to do if I were the person being rescued. I was about to find out.

Helo-eye view
Rescue swimmer AST2 John Houlberg gave me a headset and strapped me into my safety harness; then our Sikorsky HH-60J Jayhawk helicopter took off. In minutes we were over the water, looking for the Pearson 28 that was serving as our vessel in distress. It was a bright, sunny day and this was only a drill, but Houlberg and colleague AST3 Zephyr Mays were getting ready to jump from the helo, swim to the Pearson, and organize the hoist just as they would in an actual emergency. Flight mechanic AMT1 Jack Hancock prepared the winch and the other gear he would need for the hoist and ran through the mission checklist with Balda via the headsets in their helmets. They all went about their
business with the confidence that comes from constant rigorous training and the quiet humility that comes from saving lives for a living. These guys operate helicopters in raging storms when lives are on the line. They don’t have to act tough—they are tough.

The first thing I noticed as we circled our predetermined rendezvous point with the sailboat was just how difficult it is to spot a boat on the water from the air—even on a calm, sunny day. Imagine how hard it would be to spot your boat at night in storm conditions. The lesson here—relaying your precise position to the Coast Guard—is critical when making a Mayday call.

Once we spotted the sailboat Balda briefed its crew via VHF about what was going to happen, and the boat was prepared for the helicopter’s arrival (see “Chopper Checklist”). Each rescue is different, but sailboats with masts and rigging swinging around on ocean swells can be particularly daunting to a helicopter crew. If a rotor clips the mast or the winch wire gets caught in the rigging, the helicopter and the lives of the rescuers—not to mention your own life—will be in jeopardy. A helicopter crew will try to hoist crew from the cockpit if possible, but often conditions dictate that the hoist must be from the water.

Since this was only a training exercise, the helicopter crew did not want to take unnecessary risks. We practiced water hoists. Hovering close to the sailboat, the helo whipped up a terrific racket and hurricane-force winds from its rotors. Taking care to keep the sailboat close but also out of the rotor wash, Balda descended to 10 feet. At that elevation Hancock gave the signal for the “victim” (Mays) and then the rescue swimmer (Houlberg) to jump. Orders for each maneuver were calmly relayed via headsets, and the helo gained elevation after each swimmer hit the water.

The team worked with the same cool efficiency during the hoist. With the helo hovering about 50 feet off the water, Hancock pushed the rescue basket out and lowered it to the water with the winch. Houlberg swam the “victim” back through the stinging 100-mile-an-hour rotor wash and helped him into the basket. Balda kept the helo in a steady hover as Hancock winched the basket up and pulled it into the cabin. Then they retrieved the rescue swimmer.

These guys made it look easy; they are highly skilled professionals trained to operate in the worst of worst-case scenarios. Balda has been flying helicopter rescue missions for 13 years and has pulled countless people out of life-ordeath situations. Houlberg and Mays have jumped into seas that would make the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, and Hancock is a 14-year veteran. It’s comforting to know guys like these will be there if you need them.

Chopper Checklist

If you ever need a helicopter rescue, you can count on the varsity team showing up overhead. But will you be ready? Here’s what you need to know. Rule one: Don’t panic. Chances are you’ll be both afraid and pumped up with adrenaline. You and/or your crew may be injured or seasick. It’s a chilling thought, but take the time to run over several rescue scenarios in your mind before you are ever in a rescue situation. Develop a rescue checklist that works for you. Laminate this (or a more personalized) checklist and keep it in an easy-to-reach spot. It’s important to have clear directions for emergency procedures even though you hope you’ll never need them.

Communication

● Issue a Mayday call to the Coast Guard on VHF channel 16 or SSB frequency 2182kHz (dialing 911 on a mobile phone is not the Coast Guard’s preferred means of communication). Speaking clearly, give the radio operator your vessel name, position, and description, including the number of crew aboard and nature of the problem. If you have a medical emergency, give a detailed description of the situation so the rescue team can bring appropriate medical equipment and personnel. Let them know if you are taking on water so they can bring pumps and life rafts.

● Assign a crewmember to monitor the radio and set up a communication schedule. A Coast Guard radio operator will help you calm your nerves, provide mission info, perhaps make first-aid recommendations, and give an estimate of how long it will take to get the helicopter to you.

● If you have a 406-MHz EPIRB on board, activate it and tell the radio operator you have done so.

Preparation

● If you are not wearing a PFD, put one on and instruct your crew to do the same. Put on survival suits if you have them.

● Lower and secure your sails. Make sure any roller-furled sails are securely cleated and lashed.

● Remove any deck gear—biminis, spray dodgers, unnecessary lines, fenders, cockpit cushions, even small things like hats— that could become projectiles and possibly damage a helicopter rotor.

● Remove anything that will hinder free movement in the cockpit, including fishing poles, barbecues, and manoverboard poles that could possibly catch the winch wire.

● Make sure any extraneous items on deck—a dinghy, windsurfer, bike, or life raft—are securely lashed.

● In most situations, the helicopter will approach your stern quarter on the port side so the pilot (who sits in the starboard seat) will have maximum visibility and the open helo door will face the boat. If you are trailing a dinghy, lash it out of the way along the starboard side using several bow and stern lines. Don’t expect to get into a dinghy trailing off the stern during a rescue. High winds created by the helicopter rotor wash will flip most dinghies easily.

● If your boat is taking on water, prepare to launch your life raft (if you have one) and make sure you have a well-stocked ditch bag and at least one hand-held VHF. Place flares in a dry, easily accessible place so you’ll be able to signal the helo when it

approaches.

● You’ll be informed if the rescue team is going for a cockpit or a water hoist. To facilitate a safe cockpit hoist, lash the boom away from the cockpit to starboard. If you can, release the port lifelines and lash them out of the way.

● Keep the injured/sick crew as comfortable as possible, but also make sure they are in the cockpit and ready to receive instructions as soon as the rescue swimmer arrives.

Execution

● Firing a flare—smoke in daylight, incendiary at night—can help the helicopter crew

pinpoint your location. Never fire a flare in the direction of the helicopter or shine a spotlight directly at the helicopter when it’s hovering close by.

● As the helicopter approaches, listen to the radio for instructions. The pilot may instruct you to slowly head 30 to 60 degrees off the wind on port tack, moving just fast enough to maintain steerage. This provides the helicopter maximum maneuverability and visibility.

● Once he reaches your boat, the rescue swimmer is boss. If a hoist from the cockpit is going to be attempted, he will come aboard and work with the helicopter crew to get the basket on board. He will secure the victim in the basket and signal the helicopter when it’s safe to hoist. If it’s a water hoist, he will swim you (with your back to the spray) through the rotor wash and put you in the basket.

● If it’s a medical emergency, tell the rescue swimmer and tag the patient with a written note outlining the nature of the problem, medication given, plus any other information that could assist a doctor.

● When the rescue swimmer gives the signal, you may be asked to help guide the basket away from the boat. Do not grab and hold on to the basket as it’s being hoisted, and never—repeat, never—attach the winch wire or the basket to the boat.

● When riding in the basket, never put your hands, feet, or head outside of the basket. Make sure you hold on tightly with your hands inside the basket.

● Riding in a basket that is winched up to a hovering helicopter on a thin cable in a storm can be a terrifying experience, but it’s important to remain calm. Never lunge for the door as the basket approaches the helicopter. Let the crew pull the entire basket into the helicopter cabin. The flight mechanic will tell you when it’s safe to get out.

Awesome Amphibious Inflatable Boat

2011-10-19T10:59:00.000-04:00

As I learned during a pretty stormy day (and as you'll see in the video), the Sealegs 7.1 Meter amphibious RIB is not you're average RIB. It drew a crowd at the launch ramp when we simply drove into the water in Plymouth, Massachusetts, but we were the only boat out in the steep chop outside of the breakwater. Underway, it performed just like a RIB with a 165-horsepower outboard should and took the choppy conditions in stride. Driving out of the water (and on to the beach for that matter) was just as easy as driving in. Sure, this is not a RIB that'll take the place of your tender, but hey, when was the last time you drove your tender on land?

www.sealegs.com

Which Anchor Holds Best? 14 Anchors Are Put To The Test

2011-10-19T10:58:00.001-04:00

Which anchor is the best in all conditions? It’s really a simple question. We’ve put a man on the moon, and decoded the human genome, so surely someone has designed a foolproof anchor that sets quickly in all bottoms, steadfastly holds even in storm conditions, and reliably resets if the wind veers dramatically, while also being light enough for a couple to handle on a 35-40 foot boat, and easily to retrieve when the time comes to move to your next cruising destination. How hard could it be to design and build such a simple device? During this pretty scientific test, we put thousands of pounds of force on 14 different anchors to see how much they could hold. The results may surprise you.

After three days of testing 14 different anchors in three different locations off Santa Cruz, California, myself, Jeffery Moser from Power and Motor Yacht Magazine, Toby Hodges from Yachting Monthly Magazine, and Chuck Hawley and several of his colleagues from West Marine confirmed what we knew going into the test—the effectiveness of any anchor is highly dependent on a long list of variables. Some variables (scope, anchor design, and weight) can be controlled, others like bottom surface, wind and swell, can’t. We also knew the validity of our results depended on insuring all the variables (apart from the individual anchors) were kept as uniform as possible; each anchor was tested multiple time with identical scopes in identical conditions. We tested in three different locations--on the west and east sides of Santa Cruz’s wharf, and off New Brighton Beach near Capitola. Seas had just a hint of swell in all three locations and winds varied from flat calm and never got stronger than 12-knots. Bottom samples at each location were taken using a weighted dart-like core sampler revealed the composition of the top 5 inches of the bottom surface. All three locations had a layer of fine dark sand on top of harder, finer, clay-like sand. The New Brighton location appeared to have a thinner layer of sand and a harder layer of clay-like sand than the two wharf locations.

Objective
The goal of this test was to determine the performance characteristics of 14 separate anchors (on a hard sand bottom) that their manufacturers deemed suitable to be carried on a cruising sailboat in the 35-40 foot range. We judged performance on how quickly the anchor set, its holding power (determined by digital dynamometer attached to the rode and wired into a laptop computer that recorded the force on the rode every three seconds), and if it dragged (by using visual ranges and precise GPS measurements). Our primary test scope was 5:1 in roughly 20 feet of water but we also tested performance at 3:1 and 7:1 scopes.

We were most curious to learn the maximum holding power of each anchor that a cruiser on a 35-40 foot sailboat would actually use (in a specific test location and at a specific scope). The assembled anchors weighed roughly between 20 and 40 pounds. Many anchor tests in the past have been conducted with winches on shore or with boats that aren’t powerful enough to exert more than a 1,000 pounds of force on an anchor. As a result, lighter anchors must be used or an anchors holding ability (in some cases) can exceed a testers ability to pull it. The results of all these tests are extremely useful and contribute to the overall bank of anchor knowledge, but they can’t tell us which anchor can hold the most (in a specific location at a specific scope). We were able to exert up to 5,000 pounds on each anchor because we chartered the 52-foot, 92,000 pound research vessel @I{Shana Rae} to do the pulling. Equipped with powerful hydraulic winches, tk horsepower diesel engine, and tk diameter propeller, Captain Jim Christmann’s @I{Shana Rae} allowed us to put more force on each anchor that it would ever experience in “normal conditions”, but we were looking for the anchor that could perform well above “normal conditions” when anchor performance is most critical.

Testing procedure
During the course of assembling the anchors for the test, some manufacturers were a bit skeptical. They wanted to be sure that the test was going to be unbiased and that each anchor would be tested in the same conditions. This was the guiding principle of the test and we informed each manufacturer of our testing methodology prior to the test. No manufacturers representative was present during the testing. West Marine VP of Product Development, Chuck Hawley, and his colleagues from West Marine have vast experience conducting countless anchor tests over the years (they test each anchor design before West agrees to carry it in its stores), but never one that could show maximum holding power on anchors weighing between 20 and 40 lbs. West Marine sells roughly half the anchors we tested.

We made the testing procedure as uniform and scientific as possible. Each anchor was pulled on the same rode (20 feet of 5/8ths chain with the remainder 1 inch nylon rope) at least 3 times at 5:1 scope. We moved the test boat over (confirming our new location with the GPS) before each new pull to insure the anchor had a chance to set in a fresh sea bed, and instead of testing each anchor three times in succession, we pulled the first anchor, weighed it, moved the boat, set the second anchor, weighed it, an so on, to make absolutely sure that no one anchor would have the benefit of a specific area of the bottom. We also tested the anchors at 3:1 scope, 7:1 scope, and separately tested what happened when we veered sharply on the anchors. Scope was determined by the Shauna Rae’s depth finder and confirmed by a manual plumb bob. Using the @I{Shana Rae’s} hydraulics eased this job tremendously, but after humping anchors for three days at three different locations and well over 100 pulls, we had some sore muscles. We also pulled each anchor in wet sand on the beach with a boat close to shore. This was not to test holding power, but rather so we could easily see the characteristics of how each anchor set.

Each test was conducted the same way. The anchor was attached to the rode and then dropped over the side. The rode was attached to the dynamometer that was wired to a PC that recorded the strain on the gauge every three seconds. The boat idled forward until the appropriate scope payed out and the anchor had set. Once a set was confirmed, engine revs were slowly increased until the anchor dragged, released, or reached 5,000 pounds. Observations like “holds up to 2,000 ponds then drags slowly” or “seems to skip along the bottom” were recorded for each pull, and then the whole process was repeated with the next anchor.

Data and analysis
The digital dynamometer’s readings were recorded automatically every three seconds. Not only were we able to record the maximum force exerted on the anchor, we also were able to graph how increased force affected the anchor and incorporate highly accurate time and GPS data to show an anchor dragging with the data as well as with visual range marking. Thanks to Phil Cowley of West Marine who provided the dynamometer as well as the software expertise to put all the data into the computer, this process virtually eliminated the potential errors that could arise from physically jotting down readings of over 100 pulls at different scopes. Needless to say we got pretty good at the whole testing process and ended up with a wealth of extremely accurate data. Dinner after each day of testing was consumed with debriefing the days results. Everything from bottom sampling, hydraulic crane operation, to each anchors performance or surprising lack of performance was dissected. Then when we were all back in our respective offices, each anchor’s performance was discussed again via a conference call to confirm our analysis. Here’s what we found.

The Results

Bullwagga

The concept behind the Bullwagga is fairly straightforward. Its three high surface area flukes are designed to insure that two flukes will always be properly oriented to dig in no matter how the anchor comes to rest on the bottom. The shank fits loosely in the center of the anchor to help keep uniform force on the two flukes as they dig in. For all of our test pulls the Bullwagga set quickly and held a maximum of 2,974 pounds of force before releasing abruptly rather than dragging. Test results show this anchor should be able to handle the force a 35-40 foot boat can exert on an anchor, as long as you have a minimum of 5:1 scope, performance dropped off dramatically at 3:1. Overall the results for the Bullwagga were good, but good luck trying to get it to set on your bow roller, and good luck trying to store it in a locker. Its unconventional shape makes it difficult to fit on a bow roller when not in use and it can’t be taken apart to be stored easily down below. That said, it comes as close as “throw it overboard it’s sure to catch something” as any of the anchors we tested, and could be a useful back-up/kedge anchor provided you have considerable extra stowage space.

Claw

The Claw is Lewmar’s version of a Bruce-type anchor that cruisers have been using for years. It stows easily on the bow in roller when not it use, it’s one piece construction is super-strong, and it’s reportedly designed to be effective in a variety of seabeds. Some cruisers may say this style of anchor has a reputation for not being as effective in mud and soft sand, but we were not testing in mud or soft sand. However, our test results came as a bit of a surprise--the maximum force we recorded with 5:1 scope was 886 pounds. And that was only a short spike before the anchor released completely. During most of the 5:1 pulls, it seemed to set and release rapidly without ever really digging in. One pull showed it was slowly dragging at about 300 pounds of force, but never really enough to say the anchor has set with any certainty. We recorded similar results at 7:1 scope. A possible hypothesis among the group was that the Claw’s flukes were simply not sharp enough to penetrate the harder clay-like sand. The beach pull was also telling in that the claw dug a much longer trench than other anchors that produced better results during the holding power pulls.

www.lewmar.com

CQR

The CQR is another tried-and-true anchor that returned surprising results. The maximum force we recorded during our first three pulls at 5:1 scope was a very short spike up to 350 pounds, but most of the time, all we were recording was the load created by pulling the anchor and rode unencumbered along the bottom. During those pulls we never felt the anchor set. No matter how slowly we went, or how we tried to manually coax the anchor to set, it just seemed to skip along the surface of the bottom. The anchor did briefly hold over 2,000 pounds of force on pull four, west of the wharf, but those first three pulls did not inspire confidence and we were not able to replicate the results of pull four even when the rode was increased to 7:1 scope. It’s relatively sharp point looked capable of penetrating the layers of sand, but it appears something kept its point from digging in except when we got that 2,000 pound reading. Like the Claw, the CQR has been around for years and also dug a considerable trench on the beach.
www.lewmar.com

Delta

The Delta is a one-piece, plow-type anchor with high surface area flukes. It was one of several anchors that held substantial force on multiple pulls east of the wharf. On one 5:1 pull, it set quickly and held firm up to 5,000 pounds. During two other 5:1 pulls, it held to a max of about 3,500 pounds, then slowly dragged (holding 3,500 pounds) for about 600 feet until releasing. Performance results dropped off considerably at the other locations. It appears the Delta’s angled fixed shank, relatively sharp point, and high surface area flukes helped it set quickly and hold (up to a point) as long as the scope was at least 5:1. Performance declined sharply at 3:1. The beach pull confirmed that the anchor set and dug in almost immediately rather than plowing a long trench.
www.lewmar.com

Fortress

The Fortress was one of several anchors we tested that consistently set quickly and held to 5,000 pounds on multiple sets in multiple locations. It’s sharp, high surface area flukes dug in immediately. As we increased the loads and the rode became bow-string tight, the boat shuddered and kicked out impressive turbulence from the stern but the boat didn’t move an inch. Weighing only 22 pounds, the Fortress was also one of the lightest anchors we tested and it was also the easiest to stow (it can be broken down and fit into a slim storage bag). It also held over 5,000 pounds at 3:1 scope as well. By combining light weight, quick set and retrieval ability, enormous holding power at a variety of scopes, and easy stowability, the Fortress ranked high among all the anchors we tested. However, we did bend a fluke slightly during our veering test. This was while the anchor was under considerable load so it would be unfair to say anything other than it withstood a tremendous amount of abuse and still functioned properly. The Fortress’s biggest drawback may be that it could be difficult (but not impossible) to secure it unobtrusively on a bow roller when not in use.
www.fortressanchors.com

Hydrobubble

When placed alongside all the anchors in our test, the Hydrobubble didn’t get much respect—until it started reeling off 5,000 pound pulls. The minimal buoyancy of the bubble helps the anchor orient its heavy stainless-steel blade so it’s always positioned to dig in at the optimal angle. Quick sets and multiple 5,000 pound pulls at 5:1 scope prove it worked beautifully every time. What’s most curious about the Hydrobubble is the shape of its blade. Instead of flukes that are shaped somewhat like an airplane wing with it’s flaps up (similar to the Delta and CQR), the blade of the Hydrobubble forms an upside-down V. It seems the pulling forces of the shank drive the flat V-shaped blade deeper into the bottom rather than using a more conventional plow-type resistance. This could help explain how it penetrated the hard bottom even though the point wasn’t exceptionally sharp. This anchor exceeded our capacity to exert force on it, and I was still able to take it apart and bring it back from California in my luggage. It may look unconventional, but the anchor with the effervescent name may represent a new and effective way to anchor a boat.

Manson Supreme

The Manson Supreme is one of several newer generation anchors we tested that combine a rigid shank, sharp point, scoop-like (rather than a plow-type) blade, and a roll bar that insures the anchor is always properly oriented on the sea bed. It was also one of the anchors that set quickly and produced multiple 5,000 pound pulls at 5:1 scope east of wharf. Results from the other locations were less but still substantial, consistently topping out at 2,500 pounds before releasing. The Manson was one of the better performers at all locations and it was also able to withstand 5,000 pounds at 3:1 scope. On the beach, it dug in without dragging and it’s shape appears able to fit into most bow rollers but it would protrude more than a claw or a CQR and its roll bar could possibly interfere with some bow pulpits. It was one of the top rated anchors we tested however it’s very similar in design to the Rocna. Rocna’s manufacturer contends the Manson infringes on their patent.
www.manson-marine.co.nz

Oceane

The most obvious difference between the Oceane and the other one-piece, plow/scoop type anchors we tested is how it’s C-shaped shank attaches right at the front of the scoop close to the point. Our on-the beach observations showed the Oceane pivoted quickly on it’s sharp point and the C-shaped shank did a good job of converting the lateral force of the rode into downward/digging force on the scoop. However the Oceane did not produce consistent results during our load tests. East of the wharf, and at New Brighton, the Oceanne failed to set after multiple attempts at both 5:1 and 7:1 scopes. However, west of the wharf, it set immediately recorded multiple maximum pulls. None of the other anchors we tested had such profoundly different results between venues and the reason for those results is not readily apparent. The Oceane’s unique shape also make it very difficult to stow on a bow roller.

West Marine Performance 20

The Performance 20 is a danforth-stye anchor marketed by West Marine, so when we consistently (and curiously) we’re unable to get the anchor to set at a variety of scopes and locations, there was considerable scratching of heads among the West Marine contingent. For the majority of pulls at increasingly longer scopes, the anchor seemed to set and release quickly, or to just skip along the bottom. Several pulls showed brief spikes up to about 700 pounds and then quickly released. It also briefly held 1,500 pounds at 5:1 before slowly dragging an releasing off New Brighton. But that was only one pull of many, and hardly enough to show the anchor capable of holding anything similar to that number with regularity. The Fortress showed how effective a danforth-type anchor could be, so the only explanation the team could postulate was that the particular anchor we tested didn’t have sharp enough flukes to penetrate the hard, clay-like sand.

www.westmarine.com

Rocna

The Manson is very similar in design to the Rocna, but the Rocna yielded slightly better results. Both withstood maximum pulls east of the wharf and had similar holding power at both 5:1 and 3:1 scopes; the Rocna held slightly more at the other two locations before dragging and releasing. Like the Manson, the Rocna’s sharp point/roll bar was one of the better performing designs we tested, but it also has similar potential draw backs such as how much it could protrude on a bow roller and potential pulpit restrictions. Unlike the Manson, the Rocna’s blade was more angular and fitted with slightly upturned flaps at the back and it’s shank was slightly longer. These subtle differences could provide a possible explanation for the Rocna’s slightly better test results.
www.rocna.com

Sarca Anchorlight

The Sarca was unlike any of the other anchors we tested. It consists of a high surface area triangular blade, a pronounced roll bar, and a hollowed out shank that allows the shackle to side forward when it comes time to retrieve. It’s sharp point (it could cut you if you weren’t careful) appeared well suited to penetrating the hard sand and that proved to be true. On every 5:1 pull at all three locations it set quickly, but never recorded holding power over 3,000 pounds. The data shows it consistently held between 1,500 and 3,000 pounds before dragging and releasing. Similar numbers were recorded after the 3:1 pull. The anchor’s setting consistency deserves a high rating but several other anchors we tested set with similar consistency and held considerable more load and the Sarca’s bulky design could be troublesome on a bow roller.
www.anchorright.com.au/

Spade

With the likes of tried-and-true designs like the bruce-style Claw, CQR, and the danforth-style Performance 20 not producing stellar results, we weren’t sure what to expect from the ol’ spade. It turned out to be one of the best performing anchors at 5:1 scope. Multiple pulls at both wharf locations returned 5,000 pound load readings that our slightly punchy test team started calling “full pulls”. It’s simple weighted point and medium surface area blade easily penetrated and held without dragging. Results fell off dramatically however at 3:1 scope and at the New Brighton location. Our beach pulls illustrate why the spade was so successful. The heavily weighted point immediately dug in and nearly buried not only the blade, but the shank as well.

www.spadeanchorusa.com/

Wasi

The stainless steel Wasi has a roll bar like some of the other anchors we tested but its blade and shank design are quite unique. The blade consists of a flat, heavy triangle and the shank angle is much more pronounced than any of the other anchors have. This angle appears to provide the required downward force required to propel the flat blade down into the bottom and test results show it works. The wasi set quickly at 5:1, held to 3,000 pounds and dragged before releasing when the load topped 4,000 pounds. Results were similar at 3:1.
www.swisstech-america.com

XYZ

The XYZ anchor was by far the most innovative design we tested. Weighing in at only 13 pounds (but still suitable for a 35-40 foot boat according to its manufacturer) its holding ability depends solely on how well it can dig into the bottom. It’s blade looks like a stealth bomber wing, and its curved shank attaches near the sharp point on the front. The shank is also equipped with a knob that insures the XYZ will flip over if it land upside down on the bottom. On the beach it flipped over and dug a long trench in the wet sand. However, no matter how hard we tried, we could not get the XYZ to set in any of our tests. We recorded interment readings that maxed out at about 300 pounds, but we were never able to get a legitimate set at any location and at any scope. It seemed that the blade just skipped along the bottom.

Conclusion
After 3 full days, over 100 test pulls, and countless hours crunching numbers and analyzing data, we learned a great deal about all the anchors we tested and about the challenges of anchor testing. Having several anchors with established reputations fail to set sparked many hours of debate. We questioned our methodology and tried to determine what could be done to insure that all anchors could at least return some results apart from “did not set”. Like psudo-scientists we had hypothesized about which anchor would perform the best before the test and then proved (or disproved) those thoughts with scientific experimentation. In the end, we concluded that each anchor was treated exactly the same and the fact that some preformed better than others was simply the results we came up with on those three days of testing. The boat, rode, scopes, locations, and testing methodology did not change. Each anchor was tested in the same conditions and the results were simply recorded and analyzed. The anchors that returned poor results in our test may produce better results in different conditions. Many anchors are never called upon to withstand loads over several thousand pounds, but wouldn’t you feel safer and sleep easier knowing that the only thing keeping your boat from drifting up on the rocks in a distant anchorage will stay set even if 5,000 pounds of force (like a storm) is applied?

By learning which anchors set most consistently and had the highest holding power (in our specific test) we hope to shed some light and dispel some myths about how these 14 anchors can perform in test conditions. They ended up in three distinct groups:

Excellent (these anchors consistently held to or close to 5,000 pounds at several different locations and scopes and could also be stowed easily on a bow roller or in a locker)
Fortress
Manson
Hydrobubble
Rocna
Spade

Good (these anchors set held over 1000 pounds)
Bullwagga
Delta
Oceane
Sarca
Wasi

Poor (these anchors failed to produce quantifiable results)
Claw
CQR
West Marine Performance 20
XYZ

Everything you need to know about VHF radios (but were afraid to ask)

2011-10-19T10:58:00.000-04:00

When it comes to communicating on a marine VHF (very high frequency) radio, there are no “Good buddies”, and no “Breaker 1-9s”. Smokey and the Bandit movies may have made CB radio jargon hip for a time, but a marine VHF is defiantly not a CB radio. It’s a serious piece of safety equipment that’s regulated by the FCC and the US Coast Guard. When used properly, it provides a critical communication link to potential rescuers in an emergency, access to NOAA weather forecasts, navigation alerts, and notices to mariners. It can also be used to hail a bridge tender on the ICW, communicate with passing ships, and even to invite the crew of a neighboring boat in an anchorage over for sundowners.

Only boats over 62 feet are required to carry a VHF, but it’s prudent to carry one no matter what size boat. And no, carrying a cell phone is not a suitable alternative to VHF. Cell phones have limitations (range and power) that VHF radios do not. Of course the Coast Guard will answer distress calls made on a cell phone, but prefers to receive coastal distress calls via VHF.

The following is a primer on most VHF features and how to use them, proper distress call technique, picking up weather forecasts, and generally how to navigate the VHF radio waves. But before we begin, there are several things to remember. First, VHF radios are toys. Don’t talk like a trucker on a CB, don’t clog important channels with idle chatter, and NEVER, NEVER make a false Mayday call. You can be prosecuted and be potentially putting lives at risk. Second, always monitor channel 16. If you receive a distress call, record it and your position in your log, and be prepared to render assistance if possible. Third, when sending a message make sure to press the handset’s trigger, speak into the microphone, speak slowly, and clearly. Use the phonetic alphabet to spell important information out and always confirm a received message. Also, always wait to attempt to hail another user until the hailing channel is inactive. Breaking into an active radio transmission is bad VHF etiquette at best and could possibly put lives in danger at worst. When hailing another boat, establish contact then quickly switch to an established working channel. Never use profanity, always make transmissions using minimum power, keep conversations as brief as possible, and remember that most VHF calls are audible to any radio in range that is monitoring your channel, so watch what you say. You never really know who’s listening. Make sure you and your radio’s FCC licenses are up to date, and last but not least. Never say “Over and Out” at the end of a transmission. “Over” means you are done speaking. “Out” means your done transmitting. When you’ve completed your conversation just say “Out.” Same holds true for “Roger, Wilco”. Nothing says “VHF rookie” like “Roger, Wilco” followed by “Over and Out”.

VHF Overview

Many of us can stumble through a VHF transmission, but who is willing to admit they don’t know what all those other buttons and knobs do? Now you’ll know.

Knobs

1.Power/volume control

2. Squelch control—squelch control sets the point at which random noise on the channel does not activate the audio circuits but a received signal does. It should be set (by turning the knob clockwise) to just below the point where the radio’s background noise (static) is inaudible

3. Channel selector—a knob or button that’s used to select channels and choose menu items such as DSC and radio setup. This selector can also be used to confirm memory channels.

Buttons

4. 16/9—A quick press of this button immediately recalls channel 16 from any channel. Holding the button down tunes the radio to channel 9. Pressing the button again returns the radio to the channel you were monitoring

5. WX—A quick press of this button immediately recalls a selected NOAA weather channel from any channel. On many radios, holding the 16/9 key while pressing the WX key changes the radio from USA, International, and Canadian channel groups. Switching channel groups is required for the best reception when the boat moves from one region into another.

6. PA/Fog—Pressing this button activates the radio’s PA and fog horn functions

7. Scan/Mem—Pressing this button scans programmed channels. To program a channel, select the channel you want to save, and hold the button until MEM appears in the display

8. DW/IC (dual watch/intercom)—Pressing this key allows for a dual watch between a priority channel (CH 16 is the default) and a selected channel until a signal is received. Holding this key activates the intercom feature (between the radio and optional handset) on some radios

9. H/L (NAV)—Press this button to toggle the transmit output power between 25 watts (High) and 1 watt (Low). High power has the greatest range. Low conserves power while still being able to communicate with radios in the immediate vicinity

10. Call/Menu—Often the key that is used to access the DSC menu where you can toggle through “individual call”, “group call”, and “all ships call” functions

11. Ent—Pressing this key enters a chosen menu selection

12. Clr—Cancels a chosen menu selection

13 Distress—Lift the protective plastic cover and press this button to send a DSC distress call

Handset

1. PTT (Push-to-talk) trigger—Keys the transmitter when the transceiver is in radio mode. If the transceiver is in intercom or PA mode, it activates the intercom between the radio and the handset

2. Mic—The microphone that transmits voice messages with a reduction in background noise. Speak into it from about ½ inch away for best performance

3. Up/Down arrows—Allow for channel selection from the handset

4. 16/9—The same function as the 16/9 key on the radio

Hailing and communicating with another boat (or radio user)

Correct hailing procedure is to state the name boat you are hailing (usually on channel 16), then the name of your boat followed by “over”. Over tells the other party you are done speaking. This is important because if both radio operators push their mikes at the same time, neither will be heard. Only one party may speak at a time. Any other words like “yoo hoo” and “Is anybody out there?” is incorrect procedure. Once you’ve established contact, switch to a working channel. Once you’ve switched to a working channel say the name of the boat you are hailing followed by name of your boat. At the end of your conversation say your boat name, “Out” or “Out, your boat name back to 16”.

Distress calls

Mayday: Is a request for immediate assistance due to an “imminent” life threatening situation. If you hear a mayday call, listen, do not transmit. Determine if you are in a position to assist. If not maintain radio silence.

Pan-Pan: Announces an emergency when the safety of a boat and/or persons are in jeopardy but not in “imminent” danger. Man overboard calls are sent with the Pan-Pan signal. As with a Mayday call, listen to the Pan-Pan, determine if you are in a position to assist, and keep radio silence if not.

Securite: Is the signal that navigation information or weather warnings will be broadcast

Making a Mayday call

If you find yourself in an imminent life threatening situation make sure the radio is tuned to channel 16 and make the following radio transmission. Try not to panic and speak clearly.

1. Press the mike and say “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. This is (name of your boat repeated three times).

2. Repeat Mayday (this is boat name) one more time.

3. Report position as accurately as possible

4. Report nature of emergency

5. Report kind of assistance desired

6. Report number of people aboard and condition of any injured

7. Describe the boat (length, design color, distinguishing marks) and its seaworthiness. Total message should not exceed 1 minute.

8. Wait for response. If there is none repeat the message. If still no response, try another channel

Substitute “Pan-Pan” for Mayday in an emergency where there is no imminent danger to the boat or persons on board.

Digital selective Calling (DSC)

DSC is a semi-automated method of establishing a radio call simply by pushing the “Distress” button. When the DSC button is activated, the radio automatically sends a distress call with GPS position (when a GPS is connected to the transceiver), and the nature of the distress to the Coast Guard and other vessels within range of the transmission. It also scans the appropriate channels for a response. DSC also allows users to immediately receive distress, urgent, safety, routine, position requests, and group calls from other DSC equipped transceivers within range. Every radio equipped with DSC has a Maritime Mobile Service Identity (MMSI) number assigned to it. A radio’s MMSI is a unique 9 digit number (similar to a telephone number) that must be programmed into the radio to operate the DSC functions.

To make a DSC distress call:

1. Lift the protective cover over the “Distress” button, press and hold it until the radio’s display shows that the call has been sent.

2. Once the message has been sent, the transceiver will sound an audible distress alarm

3. The transceiver will automatically monitor Ch 70 for a DSC acknowledgement and also receive calls on Ch 16.

4. If no DSC acknowledgement is received, the transceiver repeats the distress call at 4 minute intervals until acknowledgement is received.

5. When the DSC acknowledgement signal is received, an alarm sounds, channel 16 is automatically selected, and the radio’s LCD screen shows the MMSI of the responding transceiver. Once contact has be established

6. If the “Distress” button was pushed in error, many radio’s will cancel a distress call when the Clr then Ent buttons are pushed

Phonetic Alphabet

Clear communication is critical when sending emergency VHF messages. To avoid any confusion use the phonetic alphabet to spell out important information such as your boat name and the names of your crew. Below is the Nato/International phonetic alphabet

A alpha

B bravo

C charlie

D delta

E echo

F foxtrot

G golf

H hotel

I India

J Juliet

K kilo

L lima

M mike

N November

O oscar

P papa

Q quebec

R romeo

S sierra

T tango

U uniform

V victor

W wiskey

X x-ray

Y yankee

Z zulu

Important channels

Channel 16

This is the distress, safety, and calling (hailing) frequency the US Coast Guard monitors continuously. All vessels equipped with a VHF must monitor Ch 16 and be prepared to assist in an emergency.

Channel 22a

This is the primary working channel the Coast Guard uses for communications with the boating public where severe weather warnings, hazards to navigation, and other maritime warnings are broadcast

Channel 13

This is the navigation/piloting channel. Locks and bridges monitor 13 and it must be used for navigation and piloting purposes only

Channel 6

This is the ship-to-ship frequency used for safety related communications

Channels 9,68,69, 71,72,78

These are the common working channels for boaters. Switch to one of these general use channels once you’ve established contact on 16

Weather Routing: What happens when your weather window slams shut?

2011-10-19T10:57:00.000-04:00

We weren’t expecting what was waiting for us. The warmth of the sunrise, a slowly building northerly breeze, and some of the strongest coffee on the planet encouraged us to work the foredeck a bit and get code zero flying. The big headsail was drawing beautifully, the familiar drone of engine finally became pleasantly silent, the digital speed read outs were stuck on 9 knots, and the miles were ticking off just as easy as you please. This was exactly how the professional weather routing service that developed our personalized weather forecast for the passage said our weather window would look--ideal in real time just as it was on paper. But things were about to change for the worse.

We were rocking along the rhum line aboard Cuyler Morris’s Morris 45 Firefly following the late fall escape route from Northeast Harbor, Maine, to Bermuda, and eventually on to Antigua. Cuyler is President of Morris Yachts and obviously a magician; he was bringing the boat south so he could spend the winter living and cruising in the Caribbean with his family. Myself, ex-pro sailor John Boone of Goertz Marine Technologies, and offshore newbie/chef James Lindquist went along for the ride.

It all started so peacefully.

The long range forecast the weather routers Cuyler used to determine our weather window called for northerlies from 9-to-16 knots all the way from Maine to the southern side of the Gulf Steam. There are countless stories of cruising boats getting pasted by northerlies in the Stream, but the light winds we saw were hardly enough to ruffle it. We’d been pleasantly motorsailing along for 2 and 1/2 days. Up to that point, the toughest challenges we’d faced were the bitter cold north of the stream, minimizing our exposure to adverse current in the stream (thanks to the Gulf Stream analysis provided in our forecast), and attempting to come down off the James’ coffee when it was time to go off watch. With the code0 set, and a dated long range forecast in the back of our minds, we’d wishfully imagined averaging 9 knots power reaching the last 250 miles into St Georges. Cue rude awakening.

Weather Window Slams Shut
The wind didn’t increase immediately. It was more like a pot that slowly came to a rolling boil. Over the course of the afternoon, true wind speeds inched into the high-teens (high 20’s apparent). We doused the code zero in favor of the full main and jib. As afternoon turned to evening, true winds in the high 20’s wound forward of the beam and had us tucking a reef in the main and rolling up some jib. All hands tucked another reef and rolled up more jib before the midnight watch when winds hit the high 30’s—true. Need I say the ride had become decidedly less placid than it had been?

So this is what fighting upwind in 40 knots looks like.

A distant low developing near the coast of Georgia was compressing the edge of the high we’d been sailing through and cranking up the wind. As the night wore on we were bashing into solid 40 knot headwinds with the gusts hitting 50. We’d fallen off the rhum to minimize the thrashing (and loosing VMG in the process), but still manage to land off a couple of waves jarringly, wake-up-the-off-watch, hard. Now we are forcing down water in conscious an effort to keep hydrated and protein drinks to help keep calories in our stomachs. Green waves periodically break on the pilothouse windows. The boat heels 35 degrees with hardly any sail up. Now just bracing yourself in the galley has turned into the most evil ab workout ever devised, everything from going to the bathroom to moving around is an ordeal, and working on deck is an exhausting adrenaline rush that most cruisers would rather avoid. The boat is up to the conditions and thankfully so is the autopilot. We’re just wet, cranky, fighting against sea sickness, and loosing sleep (not unheard of on an offshore passage). But how did it happen? How did the long range forecast differ so much from the weather actually we encountered?

Anatomy of a weather window
Professional weather routing services don’t create weather windows, they identify favorable weather patterns and routes (avoiding storms, headwinds, adverse current) that fit predetermined parameters of each individual boat they work with. Obviously a potential record breaking attempt will have a different set of parameters than a boat looking for an easy delivery, but in the end, when a forecast for the next 72 hours ahead calls for “winds N-NE from 6-16 knots” that means: According to all the available data and analysis, the probability is very high that the winds will be N-NE from 6-16 knots BUT due to the inherent volatility of the weather patterns (especially offshore and around the Gulf Stream as we learned first hand), this is subject to change.

No matter how sophisticated the weather prediction system, the possibility for a weather forecast to be “wrong” is directly related to how old the forecast is and how many hours (or days in the future) it’s attempting to predict. Any forecast but particularly those predicting more than 72 hours in advance are subject to (sometimes dramatic) change and must be constantly updated as time passes. That means any weather window (or forecast for that matter) can only really predict 72 hours in advance with any degree of certainty. Weather routers make long rage predictions and use that information to help determine the weather a cruiser will experience on passages longer than a three days, and can help boats dodge potential bad weather with updated forecasts once they’ve left port, as long as there’s an open line of communication.

In our case, we made a simple mistake that many boats could make. We saw a rosy long range forecast and took it for gospel. Having the forecast for first 2 and 1/2 days be right on the money only fortified our wishful thinking. We monitored onboard weather software and received weather forecasts and tuned into Herb (Southbound II) Heidelberg on the SSB. The weather maps did not indicate we were in the midst of a tell tale Low storm center, but rather that we were wedged in between high pressure (highs mean light winds right?) and a low that was passing well to the north and west of us. As a result we ended up in the area where winds intensify as the two systems squeezed into each other for two days. And we didn’t do what the weather routers encourage (and frankly what separates their services from simply receiving NOAA weather reports), we didn’t keep in close contact with them (via email or sat phone) once we left Maine.

However, even if we had learned the severity of the weather we were going to encounter a little sooner, the only thing we may have done differently was to possibly make a bit more easting (but not too much) to help with our angle as the wind clocked around to the SE. In fact some, boats that sailed more than 60 miles east of the rhum got clobbered, and sailed many more miles (and hours) through the blow for their effort. We’d made great progress prior to the blow and crossed the stream easily. We were closer to our destination than any other land. Like they say in the Mafia “We were in too deep to get out.”

As the weather deteriorated, we knew we could handle it albeit a bit uncomfortably. But as the wind came directly from the SE--smack dab on the nose—a little frustration set in. It was about 0200 during our second night of in 40 knot winds when we were forced to fall off to the point that we were sailing a course that was almost parallel to our destination. VMG was down to about 1 knot, and Boonie, who is a very experienced offshore racer, had had enough. He dialed up the sat phone and after several lost connections, and over the noise of the wind in the companionway, was able to talk to one of the weather routers who provided a crucial bit of info. He told us that the wind strength was going to continue all the way into St Georges, but that we could also expect 30 degree favorable shift. This is a key benefit of using a weather router once a window shuts down. He gave us just the little morale boost we needed with up-to-the-minute metrological data and would have recommended an informed course change if necessary. I spent the rest of that watch watching for the big header and appreciated the fact that he was able to tell us it was coming. He was right. It came, we tacked, and finally were back on a course that would bring us around into the calm water of the harbor. It was only a matter of hours (not days) now.

The wind never relented. It blew hard on the nose and made us work even as we turned the corner around tk reef and saw the pink houses of Bermuda under angry grey skies mere miles in the distance. It was only after we’d cleared customs and tied up along St. Georges famous wall did we learn that many other boats were cursing the weather just like us. In fact, there were four rescue missions (two boats sank) around Bermuda during the time we were out there.

James kissed the ground when we finally arrived in Bermuda.

Weather windows can only be rough guides. Part of the romance and adventure of cruising lies in the fact that we still sail off soundings, over the horizon, and into the unknown just like the British that first washed ashore in Bermuda. Of course technology has advanced to minimize the unknowns, but if you cruise long and far enough, you’ll inevitably pass the point of no return where, no matter what the report says, you have to make the most of the weather you’re dealt. Use all the technology to your advantage and make sure to keep in close contact with your weather router during your passage, but also beware of waiting for the “perfect” window. You may never leave the harbor.

Weather rules of thumb

Highs generally indicate light winds and settled weather. Lows generally indicate high winds and stormy weather.

The greater change in pressure or the shorter distance over which the change takes place the stronger the pressure gradient and hence the wind will be.

In the northern hemisphere, winds circle counterclockwise around an area of low pressure. In a westerly tracking Low, the strongest winds are usually near the center and on the southern side of the low. Winds circle clockwise around a High.

Lows typically move faster than highs. When a Low overtakes a High, the pressure where the two systems meet gets compressed. This compression (isobars get closer) increases the gradient and wind strength. A steady barometer and rising wind speed (the conditions we experienced) is usually an indication of sailing parallel to a isobar line in a compression zone.

Winds often follow the Isobar curves of highs and lows on a weather map. The steeper the pressure gradient (the closer the isobars are spaced) the greater the curves will affect wind speed