A couple of knuckleheads in this NG have requested I tell my 'close
call' story, so here goes.

First some background: I have been sailing for 30 years. Many parts
of the world. All weather conditions. Racing, cruising. I have been
a boat owner for about 12 of those years. I have crossed the ocean.
I have been in 35' conditions. I have NEVER been afraid.... except
this one time!

I was helping a friend move his 50' center cockpit sloop from Rhode
Island to Bermuda one fall a few years ago. This requires crossing
the Gulf stream. For those of you unfimiliar, the Gulf Stream is a
current, a moving body of water in the ocean. I moves approx 3 knots
and is relatively warm water. In the area that we were crossing it is
surrounded by cold water. Therefore, the Gulf Stream is capable of
producing it's own unpredictable weather.

This one day we were sailing along nicely but the weather was
deteriorating as we approached the stream. Winds were about 40 knots,
overcast, some rain, waves approx 3 meters. Still not too bad, until
we hit something in the water. It was kind of soft hit I guess. THe
boat now would not perform well, slowed down, and would not respond
very well to rudder inputs. We figured we picked up a fishing net and
it was wrapped around our rudder. The deteriorating conditions and
impending darkness meant it was much too risky for a crew member to go
overboard and inspect, perhaps cutting the net loose, so we had little
choice but to continue on.

It was about 1 am when we entered the stream, and I was just coming
off a single watch. THe captain came into the cockpit to relieve me,
but asked me to stay up with him, as we had just entered the stream
(he could tell from the water temperature) and it was raining very
hard by this point. So, basically I sat in the cockpit with him
during his 4 hour watch.

The conditions became Heavy, heavy thunderstorms, full of lightening,
to the point were there were times that it was lightening ALL OF THE
TIME, so that they entire ocean was lit up, and I could see clearly
all the way to the horizon. I had never experienced that before.
WInds were up to 45 knots and gusting a little higher. But the waves
built up to these SQUARE 5 meter monsters. Now, I have been in bigger
waves, but it was not the size as much as the shape. Imagine a 45
knot wind AGAINST a 3 knot current. It produced very unfriendly
conditions.

Our boat was very difficult to control with a fishing net around our
rudder, and we were smashing into these walls of water. Green water
over the decks, filling up the center cockpit of this boat. SOmetimes
it would splash down so hard on us that I could not see the captain,
even though he was only about 5' away from me. I was afraid one of us
was going to get washed over board (yes, we were harnessed in -
always). Our boat was heeled over to the point that the boom was
dragging in the water on occasion, and I know that is not good,
because you are no longer able to 'dump' air if needed. We had the
rail buried on this boat many times also.

It really was tough conditions. For the first time I realized that I
was in a situation that I might not survive. This was no movie, we
were on our own and in a little trouble. The only way to survive it
was with a little luck and a lot of concentration to do what it took
to get the boat through the night. ANd that is what happened to me.
I was focused. I did what I had to to sail the boat well and get
through the stream.

Approx 5 or 6 in the morning we came out of the stream, and the waves
immediately went to about 8 feet. It was like someone flipped a
switch. Our relief crew came up to take the helm, and the funny part
is, they really had no idea what kind of night they had just slept
through.

Well, it wasn't until later - off watch - that I had an emotional
reaction to what I had just gone through, and decided that I was being
a little selfish for putting myself in these sort of situations while
leaving small children at home. So, that was my last off shore trip
until my kids finish growing up.

Oh, later that day the sun came out, the waves went down to 6', so we
hove-to and a crew member went overboard and cut loose the net.

Lonny