by fatjackdurham » Sat Jul 29, 2017 10:02 pm
I don't know if it common to report results from sailing here, but on one of the other forums I frequent, we post "range reports" after shooting at the range. So I figured I'd do the same here with regards to my first voyage on the boat.
After fixing the mast last night, I finished test rigging the boat this morning while I waited for my new cockpit drain to arrive. I landed out all the gear for inspection. Safety kit, flotation devices, etc. I stowed them all and hooked up the trailer and waited. The part came at about 11, but the cap was too short. The long cap I had ordered wasn't due until Wednesday. I duck taped over the drain hole with gorilla tape and headed out. I was heading to the Georgia Shore boat ramp on Lake Champlain, about an hour's drive.
The drive passed uneventfully, or so I though. When I got out of my car to rig the boat, I discovered that I had lost the mast crutch I had in the rudder gudgeons. I sure hope it didn't hurt any one. The mast wasn't damaged, even though it could have slid sideways and dragged along the pavement. I proceeded to rig.
Putting the boat in, the first thing I noticed was the tree over hanging the ramp. I eyeballed it, and decided I could make it. The second thing I noticed were the concrete sea walls with no dock. The wind was blowing from NNW, about ten knots, diagonally in across the ramp. I backed a little to far in, and the small waves floated the boat right off the trailer and sideways across the ramp. The starboard stern was just bumping against the corner of the concrete.....
I hopped out of the car and ran around to the boat. I had tied a new rope to the bow cleat to help manage it once I got it off the trailer. Pulling that rope I beached the boat a little ways up the ramp and tied it to a nearby boulder. The waves were still licking at the stern, but it was safe for the moment.
After parking my car and trailer, I tried to plan how to launch out without a dock. I figured I'd just manually turn the boat upwind, push out and hop over the stern. Once in deeper water, I could star the motor, power out a few yards and drop anchor to raise the sails. Can anyone guess the flaw in the plan? I mean the one that actually happened, not all the other ones.
It start out fine. I prepared the anchor, untied the boat, waded in, turned her, pushed, and even at 300 lbs, jumped spryly over the stern. My flip flops remained in the water, a fact I would later regret.
Then, the motor wouldn't start.
I had started it minutes earlier to test. But, it doesn't have a gear shifter, it's a small, 2.2 hp motor that is always in gear. I had shut it off to avoid grounding the prop on the ramp. Now it wouldn't start. And the wind was driving me back toward shore, just a few yards away, covered in sharp granite boulders.
After five pulls, I realized the motor was a no-go. I scrambled up to the bow, grabbed the anchor, and flung it as far as I could, which was barely five yards. But it was five yards further from shore. I pulled in on the anchor line, drawing the boat forward, pulled up the anchor and flung it out again. The wind had blown me down shore, and after kedging out three or four times, I just missed colliding with someone's dock.
The anchor held, so I took a breather and tried to start the engine again. No luck. The owner of the dock came out and we chatted a bit. Nice lady. Took the near calamity very well.
Thinking the engine must be flooded, I set about finishing rigging. The next challenge was that the centerboard would NOT budge. Of course I had had no way to check this on land, the trailer being in the way. I pulled with all my might but could not lower the dang thing. Fortunately, when I bought my safety kit, I also bought a mask, and the boat came with a swim ladder. Down and under I went.
There was enough room at the end of the centerboard for me to stick my fingers in and grab it. It didn't budge. I tried again as I started to run out of breath. It gave, just a little. Popping up to get another breath, I dove down and curved my hand up around the end of the centerboard. With my shoulders pressed against the keel, I heaved, and the board finally started to drop. One more heave and, as it passed 45 degrees, it came all the way down.
Back in the boat, I pondered my options. A lot had gone wrong, and I hadn't even raised the sails. I watched a motorboat come down the ramp. He was having a tough time with the wind too. Once in the water, it seemed he was having engine troubles also. But, he got it started as he drifted passed me and offered to tow me "oat". Canadian. I thanked him, but said I thought I could handle things.
Getting my wind back, I went forward and raised the sails. The Canadian watched, puttering a short distance away. I noticed that the foot of the sail completely filled the boom slot end to end, leaving barely an inch to take up with the out haul. If the mast was too long, the boom was too short. Sails up, rudder down, centerboard cleated, I was ready. I lashed the tiller a bit to starboard and walked up to the bow to pull up the anchor. The boat smoothly advanced turning slightly to port. The anchor came up, and in the eyes of my neighbor to the north at least, it seemed I knew what I was doing.
Back in the cockpit, I trimmed the sails and the boat leaped forward. Waves were exchanged to the shore lady and the Canadian, and I headed out, beating straight away from shore
I always marvel how calme a sailboat is once you actually are under way. Before that, with the sails flapping and boat rocking, it's quite stressful. But, now, I was on a steady tack, heading out toward Grand Isle. I lashed the tiller and set about straightening up. The anchor line was tangled and the cuddy was a mess. The boat calmly sailed itself while I took care of things. Savage Island passed to my south, off the port side, and after about forty minutes, I had almost reached Hyde Point, which was nominally directly across from the boat ramp, about 2.5 miles.
I came about and headed back towards the Georgia Shore, heading NE. I noticed right away, the boat was more stable on the starboard tack than the now port tack. I am sure my shrouds weren't tight enough and maybe the mast was still leaning more to one side. But, it also could have been the wind and the waves. The wind occasionally picked up, and I had my gunwhales in the water much of the time. I tacked again after about another forty minutes, and once more, turning north-east towards St. Albans Bay. This was a long tack, as the wind was perfect for the heading. I relaxed and concentrated on the boat.
The main sail was yellowed, and pretty much blown. There was a nagging luff around the tack of the sail, partly due to the lack of good tension, but the leech was steady. The jib is in quite good shape, though the sheet blocks are fixed, and could have stood to be mounted a little further forward. I opened an inspection port and was thrilled to see it dry, or nearly so, after two hours of sailing. A leaking center board trunk was my greatest worry.
There was little traffic on this part of the lake. It's not as popular as Mallets Bay or Shelburne Bay, because there is not a single marina north of Sandbar State Park, all the way to St. Albans. But, there were a few large sailboats and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Finally, I passed Burton Island, and was approaching Lazy Lady Island in St. Albans Bay. I thought to sail around it, but it was still a mile off, and, looking over my shoulder, I estimated I had three more hours of sunlight. I jibed and headed back down the shore, rolling on a run/broad reach. Occasionally, the wind would shift west, and I would pick up pretty good speed, leaving a respectable strern wake.
The ramp finally came into view and I started to plan how I was going to get the boat out. I figured I would anchor up wind, douse the sails and then try to drift down to the ramp, controlling the boat with the anchor. Yeah, right. I came in perfectly and tossed the anchor, which dragged for fifty yards until I was ten yards downwind from the ramp. Oh, well.
I doused the sails, pulled up the rudder and tried half heartedly to start the motor again. Nope. And, the centerboard refused to go up any easier than it went down. Underwater, I had to put my back against the lake bottom and push to get it stowed. I'm going to have to figure out what to do about that. Since I was already wet, waded the boat back up to the ramp and beached it again.
Fortunately, there was a fellow there who helped me get the boat on the trailer, which would have been a disaster by my self. I pulled it out, tiredly derigged, folded the sails and went home.
The boat, curious as it is, sailed pretty well considering the hodge podge rigging and general condition. That's how good these O'Day boats are. Anyway, my biggest concern was the hull, and it turns out to be solid, so I am confident enough to assign a name to the boat.
I give you "Caribbean Dream".