Ian George wrote:
While reading rec.boats.cruising, I noticed
felt compelled to write:
Going out on yards to reef used to be what good seamen did. Do any of
you still do that, shame! So, before you rant about seamanship and
going up on cabin tops, I want to see you on a yard 100' above deck in
a winter storm, otherwise, your just blowing smoke.
You've never seen me rant. I said I prefer to reef from the mast base.
I said I have seen folk who apparently never go forward struggle when
trying to turn across weather to allow them to reef or drop sail. As
it happens, I don't actually care whether you agree with me or not;
I'm capable of accepting your differing opinion.
Many newer boats only have a single furling sail so changing headsails
is never an issue. However, on my boat at least, sitting on the
foredeck is probably safer than standing on the cabin top so changing
the jib was never a major problem. BTW, I recently changed to roller
furling and will not go back. It has made my life much easier and I do
a lot more sailing. especially single handed.
I wasn't arguing against furlers, but thanks for the elucidation. I
was talking about changing sail or removing from a furler in a blow. I
see how wrestling a frenzied, whipping headsail to the deck wouldn't
be a problem for you, but moving to the mast base is a terrifying,
life-threatening experience. Frankly, whilst we'd all rather be
reaching in 15kn on a calm sea from the cockpit; it isn't always
possible.
In a recent thread about broaching in a squall, there was a discussion
on just this topic. It would have been much less an issue if the
control lines were led to teh cockpit. In a broach, I am sure that the
cockpit is a better place to be than on the cabin top.
I'm sorry that I can't follow how running the halyards back to the
cockpit somehow mitigates a broach, but I did read that thread. From
memory it was from someone with little experience who got caught out
by a 30kt bullet. The location of the halyards would have hardly
compensated for their lack of experience, in what is a reatively
routine occurance. In fact from memory I think they had problems
trying to round up, and getting blown off / down when stalled. Not a
problem if you set up to be able to reef running downwind. How do you
reef from the cockpit running downwind, yourself?
Rig your boat any way you please, but please, no more bs about doing it
the difficult way making you a better seaman. From where I sit, the
smart seaman is the best and the smart one does what works best for
him, not what seems "salty".
I'm not much given to bull****, that was my opinion. On my boat, I
would never be able to reef downwind without going to the mast, so if
I have to go to the mast to reef, I may as well terminate the halyards
there. If I tried to round up, the apparent wind would likely take my
rig straight down, so I have to rig to reef downwind if necessary.
Perhaps you are having a bad day? I'll leave it at that.
Ian
Ian, if you think you are going to reef while running when you need
to, you are in for a shock.
You just can't do it.
You must round up and come head to wind, or you will not get the
main down. It will hang on the spreaders, and jam in the sail
track. Then, you will broach. That's basic sailing. To broach means
to get spun around until you are head to wind, like it or not. It
often involves dipping the boom, possibly breaking it, and can be so
violent it fills the cockpit with water, even capsizing you. Which
means you sink on the spot in a keelboat.
The secret to reefing safely is to reef before you need to. If you
wait too long, you enter a situation where, as old salts say "The
sea doesn't give a damn." If the situation continues to
deteriorate, you will die.
If you find yourself out there, you will only be able to get the jib
down, if you don't slide off the fore deck. If it's BAD, and your
furler jams, you will not be able to do anything, except hope the
damn thing flogs itself to death and tatters before you drown. When
the jib is gone, the main will spin you around wether you want it to
or not, possibly capsizing you if you are too silly to ease the
sheet as far as it can go without losing the end to the breeze, and
then, if you don't take water and sink, you will find yourself head
to wind, in irons, going backward, and will have about two seconds
to get the main reduced, or down altogether, before you dosi-do or
gybe around again and again and again, until the main is in tatters,
if you are lucky enough to see it happen, you might well be watching
that while being trolled for bait, on the end of your lifeline.
Unless you have the crew and the skill and the strength to steer a
close reach or in reverse and can keep the head to wind long enough
to reef as you wish you had practiced and perfected when it was
calmer, if you are alone, you could well die. Pray the boom takes
you, rather than drown.
I would never again sail without a certain method of getting the jib
down. I can no longer trust a furler, nor do I want to sail with a
baggy jib. I almost lost the mate overside in an unexpectedly rough
day, when all we could hope to do do was pull the bloody genoa down
on deck from the foredeck. A downhaul is now permanent, and has
never failed to do the deed. All large sails foreward will be set so
a knife can let it go off to sail heavan by itself. If it is so calm
I can't get anywhere without the genny I don't have any more, I will
either turn on Mr. Iron Oars, or start fishing.
Sailing is not for wussies who don't take responsibility for their
own survival, and keep an eye out for weather.
Been there, done that! Seen that at a distance and was near tears
myself the day we went down to the government wharf near Cobourg,
Ont. 20 odd years ago to watch the waves and witnessed such a
potential death dance not a mile offshore in a 10 minute squall.
After a while, two pansy boys got the boat to the dock on the
engine, literally crying buckets of tears and screaming at each
other every inch of the way, got off the boat, called for the police
and two taxis, and were going to let it drift away, cursing horribly
and swearing they would never sail again. It was their first day of
sailing. They were at the face slapping stage. We grabbed their
dockline. We gathered that they had just taken possession of their
dream palace. They sold the boat, I think a brand new Hunter 25 with
a diesel, and a great big knot of tatted rags in the cockpit and on
deck, on the spot to a guy on the dock with a cheque book for 5
thousand dollars. I wish I had spoken first.
All your theory won't help a bit.
Your tears won't even get you wet, and the sea will ignore your call
for mommy.
Yes, I have stupidly set sail into 50 knots of wind, and sailed off
the sheltered dock, but I just didn't know how lucky I would be to
get back home. That was 30 years ago, in Calandar bay, lake
Ni****ing, another surprising fresh water sea.
Ah, but what joy we have had, since!
Terry K