March 7th - Making Bail, Equipment Failure and other fish stories
 

March 7th - Making Bail, Equipment Failure and other fish stories

We left you as we were in the Gulf Stream, heading north. We're
on our way to Tiger Point Marina, in Fernandina Beach, FL, to
pick up Lydia's son, who's coming to sail with us for a few days.
When he leaves the boat, he'll then give us a ride back to the
area we left when we moved aboard Flying Pig. Flying Pig will be
grounded for a while, during our shoreside adventures - which I'm
sure you'll hear about in Lydia's log postings... When we've
finished, we'll return, and do some work before our next big
trip.

Before leaving Miami, in preparation for putting Flying Pig on
the ground, I used our hookah rig (like a scuba dive without the
tank, but instead, a long hose) connected to our compressor both
for inspection and cleaning of our hull. When I dove the bottom
to clean off the accumulated grunge which is the inevitable
result of staying in one place for a while in the marine
environment, and to clean up the impellers which tell us how fast
we're going, I discovered that there were some places on the hull
which apparently had no bottom paint on them. As that's what
prevents the critters which, if they make the bottom of your boat
their home, causes your boat from going as fast as it can, from
gaining a foothold, that's very important to us. Given that we
did it ourselves, we're quite sure those places had an ample
amount applied. However, it may be that they are among the areas
repaired during our wreck rehab, and the surfaces needed
different preparation than we had done. Either way, when it comes
out of the water, we'll see what's needed there.

The other things we have to do are pretty minor, too, and I'm
thrilled to report that I'd bet I now have a lifetime supply of
alternator belts, as the one put on when we changed the pulley on
the alternator is still going strong. Little by little, our
shakedown's shaking out. Like any boat that's 30 years old, ours
will require constant attention, but there's nothing we can't
handle.

However, back to our story.

So, it was a dark and stormy night, as the saying goes, and Lydia
wasn't feeling all that well, what with the rock and roll,
pitching and the like. You'll recall that we had all the
steadying we could manage, with all the sails pulled blade-tight.
Still, the motion was considerable. She hung in there, though,
until, as was frequently the case, all night long, there was one
of those tiny jibes. Those happen when you have a steadying sail
up and the wind at your back, but it shifts, flopping the sail
over to the other side.



That sudden movement is very forceful. It's for just that reason,
with a longer movement as would be the case with the boom way
out, in a run, that we use the preventer. And, you may recall
from a prior log entry, we'd already broken a shackle on one end
of the preventer, and, in the same day, later, broke off the
attachment point on the boom where the preventer mounted. Both of
these occurred just as the sail started the other way, without
the momentum that a full switch from one side to the other would
provide. That gives some indication of the power of a crash jibe!



On the impact of that mini-jibe, the welded piece of stainless
steel which attached the sheet (the line that controls how far
out the boom goes) to the boom broke. That allowed the mainsail
to fly out to a point where the boom was resting on one of the
standing rigging wires. Ironically, at that particular point,
the sail was relatively stable, but having the boom pushed up
against the shroud (the wire holding the lower part of the mast
in position) wasn't a good thing.

That's because in addition to the pressure on the shroud, it
would be entirely possible that another roll of the boat would
produce another crash jibe. This time, however, it would be from
one far side to the other, gaining considerable momentum and
quite possibly dismasting us as it hit the opposite shroud. So,
despite the additional drive (the speed went up by a couple of
knots with the sail out), we needed to resolve the instability of
the mainsail. So, of course, Lydia came and woke me, only a
couple of hours into my sleep. The noise of the failure had
already raised my consciousness level, and I was topsides in a
jiffy (well, and some sweats and my foul weather gear).

After assessing the situation, we rehearsed what we'd do in order
to make this a stable environment. Aside from the current
weather, which meant very lumpy water and high winds, the
solution wasn't markedly different than would be the case in
lowering the sail as we prepared to anchor. The key difference
would be that we would not have the main sheet to control the
boom's swinging once we had the sail lowered. So, I turned on the
spreader and foredeck lights, got into my harness, latched onto
the jackline, and went forward to the mast while Lydia turned
Flying Pig into the wind.

Even my going forward would not have been needed to drop the
sail, due to our new sail hardware and lazy jacks setup, and our
already having our lines led aft, into the cockpit. Those allow
us to release the halyard (the line hoisting the sail to the top
of the mast), and the sail merely falls into place. However, the
topping lift, which controls how high the boom is, would need to
be played carefully as the boom swung back and forth in the
rocking due to the waves. I'd have to time its swing just right
to lower it into the boom crutch. Fortunately, that proved no
great difficulty, and I unclipped my harness from the mast,
reclipping it to the jackline, and went aft.

There I lashed the boom to the crutch, effectively making it
impossible to jump out of place. The lashing took the place of
the normal down pressure we would have exerted with the sheet.
With all secured, I turned off the lights, kissed Lydia
goodnight, again, and returned to my berth. Despite the increased
motion due to not having the steadying influence of the main, I
was asleep again in moments. Flying Pig continued to motorsail
under nearly bare poles, entirely safely.

As dawn approached, Lydia again woke me, as she'd been battling
seasickness her entire watch, and the accompanying sleepiness was
beginning to overcome her. I got up and settled in to enjoy the
ride, which was becoming more adventuresome by the mile. The
waves built, and the wind howled, as we saw over 20 knots astern,
to go with our 7-8 knots of forward motion. Better yet (heh -
euphemistically stated), we were in the counter-current (the
reverse flow next to the Gulf Stream). That meant that our boat
speed (as compared to ground speed) was over 10 knots, into the
square chop produced by the wind against the current. That
produced a very wide range of motion, and some of the following
waves would roll us 30 degrees or so, then fling the stern over
90 degrees in the opposite direction as the wave passed beneath
us, at the same time as it rolled the same 30 or so degrees in
the opposite direction. Hooray for our fuel polishing system, as
the usual response to such motion is one of the failures we have
yet to experience.

That is, most sailors whose boats have auxiliary diesel engines
will eventually experience those engines stopping due to fouled
filters restricted so much that fuel can't get to the engine. The
nature of diesel fuel in a marine environment with low turnover
is to grow critters and accumulate grunge as they die, along with
the dead-dinosaur-stuff nature of sludge formation along the
sides and bottom of most fuel tanks. Rough seas lead to stirring
all that stuff up, and typically, eventually, a clog making its
way into the system, usually resulting in the need for a filter
change. Of course, the time those instances occur is usually
about the worst time you could choose to have to replace a
filter - rough seas making it even more uncomfortable than it
already is, in a hot engine room. Worse, if your engine was
running in those conditions, you might be in a position where you
were dependent on it to keep you out of trouble, such as going
aground on the rocks!

So, having religiously run our fuel polishing system whenever
we're
in lumpy water, and especially so when sailing but with the
engine off, the better to avoid sucking grunge into our supply
filters, we believe we have the cleanest possible fuel for Perky.
I'm sure, having made that statement, that our comeuppance will
arrive sometime in the near future, engine hours-wise, but so
far, we've escaped that experience! When we return to Flying Pig
after our time ashore, I'll change out the polisher filters and
the Racor (the ones which are before the engine in the fuel
flow), even though the vacuum gauges don't indicate the need.
They'll have been in for a year, and I'll change them on a
preventive basis.

Fortunately, those are the only equipment failures we've had this
trip. Everything I read suggests that every passage will have
equipment failures, and of course, those failures usually will
occur under stress. That is to say, when you'd least like to
discover them! More will arrive, no doubt about it, but we'll
continue to address each in its turn. Lydia's cabin fever aside
(she really and aggressively needs to get off the boat as soon as
we anchor, each passage), we continue to be reminded of how
perfect this home is for us. Time and again, we'll say to each
other, "I really love our home." So, what about the fish
stories??

You may recall that we've had notable failure in our attempts to
make fish a major portion of our diet. Aside from the couple of
catches in the Gulf of Mexico under the experienced hand of a
professional fisherman, on the first leg of our journey, our only
success had come on our brief trip to Rodriguez Key, and those
were pretty small. However, hope springs eternal, and we set out
our lines on the beginning of this passage. Many hours passed,
with no more results than that the lures got thoroughly wet. We
reeled them in as night fell on Wednesday, not being comfortable
with dealing with a pitching deck, rain and darkness, should we
manage to catch something.

Thursday morning, I put them out again, with about the same
results. That is to say, for many hours, the only result was a
bit of grass on the tuna plug. However, as the day wore on, and
the weather forecasts continued to indicate some heavy stuff
coming up, we eased out of the main part of the Gulf Stream, and
into the side edges. That also led us to slightly shallower
water, which was apparently home to more (or at least, hungrier)
fish, because we noticed that our starboard line, the one with
the skirted lure, was tight and the pole bent.

We don't know how long that had been like that, but it was
obvious that we had either a substantial grass catch or some
reasonably large fish on the other end of the line. Throttling
back and turning to starboard to release some of the pressure, I
started reeling. Whatever was on the other end wasn't grass,
though, as it moved first behind the boat, and then in front. As
Lydia played the throttle and wheel, I continued to reel. Soon,
it became apparent that we had a dolphin. That's not a porpoise,
but instead that blunt-headed fish with the iridescent skin (not
scales).

Being towed for however long it was had tired our gal (a female,
as determined at first glance by the shape of the head, and
later, preparing her, by the roe sac), and we soon got her in a
position to gaff and bring aboard. Following the taking of
pictures of our first "real" catch, I dispatched her with a
hammer, put her into a bucket, head down, and we resumed our
journey.

Once back under way and on course, Lydia filleted the 33"
dolphin, discarding the very full roe sac, head and tail. Of
great interest to us was what was in the stomach, however, as it
was apparent she'd been eating actively. We have no idea where
they may have come from, but there were many worms wriggling in
among the several sardine-sized fish in her stomach. Are there
marine worms readily available for eating? Was she infested with
some sort of gastric parasite? In any event, she resulted in
several very sizeable chunks of meat, along with some small
scraps saved for Portia. Even those, entirely raw, with no
seasoning or other alterations such as would be the case with
sushi, were delicious.

Gluttons that we are, after having caught no fish for us, all
this time, this bounty lasted us only two meals. The first was
simply marinated and immediately grilled, mostly rare. Delicious
as it was, we decided that the following night, which we did at
anchor in the rain in Fernandina (to the accompaniment of the
paper mills' aromas of, alternately, sawdust and sulphur), we'd
make some changes. Those changes were mostly in the seasoning and
marinating, along with a longer cooking time. The results were
very satisfying, and we'll use that recipe again.

For those interested, in the fashion of one of our favorite
books, An Embarrasment of Mangoes, a recipe follows this chapter:

Dolphin on the barbie.

Marinade: Crush 5 fresh garlic cloves, add dashes of key west
spice and cilantro, to combined fresh lime juice from 3 limes,
olive oil and a splash of paisano (red wine from Gallo). Use
Braggs amino instead of salt. Marinade in ziplock bag for 30
minutes, turning frequently. Cook over very hot grill, turning
only once. Do skin side down first, time to suit for doneness.
Season with Cajun spices from shaker on both sides as the other
side is cooking. Rewet first cooked side with remaining marinade
before seasoning. Serve over rice or other side dish to
preference.

L8R

Skip

Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig KI4MPC
See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery !
Follow us at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheFlyingPigLog
and/or http://groups.google.com/group/flyingpiglog

"You are never given a wish without also being given the power to
make it come true. You may have to work for it however."
(and)
"There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in
its hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts."
(Richard Bach, in The Reluctant Messiah)

March 7th - Making Bail, Equipment Failure and other fish stories
 

On Sun, 4 May 2008 17:32:30 -0700 (PDT), Skip Gundlach
wrote:

So, it was a dark and stormy night, as the saying goes, and Lydia
wasn't feeling all that well, what with the rock and roll,
pitching and the like.

OK, so why were you out there? What was your bailout exit if
conditions deteriorated? Why didn't you use it?

You guys are retired. Learn to take your time and wait for favorable
weather conditions. Learn to avoid running dead down wind in lumpy
conditions. It's a miserable point of sail. Reach up enough that you
can sail effectively with no risk of an accidental jibe. You'll go
faster, with more comfort, using less fuel, and with much less chance
of breaking things.

March 7th - Making Bail, Equipment Failure and other fish stories
 

"Wayne.B" wrote in message
...
On Sun, 4 May 2008 17:32:30 -0700 (PDT), Skip Gundlach
wrote:

So, it was a dark and stormy night, as the saying goes, and Lydia
wasn't feeling all that well, what with the rock and roll,
pitching and the like.

OK, so why were you out there? What was your bailout exit if
conditions deteriorated? Why didn't you use it?

You guys are retired. Learn to take your time and wait for favorable
weather conditions. Learn to avoid running dead down wind in lumpy
conditions. It's a miserable point of sail. Reach up enough that you
can sail effectively with no risk of an accidental jibe. You'll go
faster, with more comfort, using less fuel, and with much less chance
of breaking things.


Skippy has ten thousand dollars worth of extraneous electronic systems yet
he has not bothered to spend a few bucks rigging a preventer? Just shows how
he's just a clueless noob blundering along until disaster strikes.

Wilbur Hubbard

March 7th - Making Bail, Equipment Failure and other fish stories
 

Hi, Y'all,

On May 6, 7:07 am, Wayne.B wrote:
On Sun, 4 May 2008 17:32:30 -0700 (PDT), Skip Gundlach

wrote:
So, it was a dark and stormy night, as the saying goes, and Lydia
wasn't feeling all that well, what with the rock and roll,
pitching and the like.

OK, so why were you out there? What was your bailout exit if
conditions deteriorated? Why didn't you use it?

We were out there because we were on the way from here to there, so to
speak. The boat was doing just fine, and was in no discomfort (the
boat, that is, nor me, for that matter).

There were several bailout exits observed, planned and possible - but
not needed.


You guys are retired. Learn to take your time and wait for favorable
weather conditions. Learn to avoid running dead down wind in lumpy
conditions. It's a miserable point of sail. Reach up enough that you
can sail effectively with no risk of an accidental jibe. You'll go
faster, with more comfort, using less fuel, and with much less chance
of breaking things.

Believe it or not, the weather as described was favorable, compared to
that which was forecast for a long time forward, or as had been the
case relatively recently. We didn't need to go faster - slower, in
fact, as commented upon later in the post. To get to the point of
sail which would have guaranteed no possibility of an accidental jibe
would have put us either in the Bahamas or ashore (well, aground comes
to mind, as well), as the waves were such that we'd have had to turn
very substantially to minimize the roll/fishtailing, and far enough to
avoid the resultant jibe.

In any event, were it not for the unexpected failure of the bail, it
would have been an entirely uneventful (well, events being defined as
troublesome) trip. Better it should happen then, so we could get it
fixed when we went ashore (and as I write in "real time" vs the past
you see in the post, it has been repaired and awaits reinstallation),
rather than have to deal with the adaptation I made for our later
sailing locally, for the entire passage to Maine. That said, I have
no doubt that there will be something, or several somethings which
will require ingenuity and adaptation to allow comfortable
continuation of our journey this summer.

Onward:

On May 6, 12:39 pm, "Wilbur Hubbard"
wrote:
"Wayne.B" wrote in message

Skippy has ten thousand dollars worth of extraneous electronic systems yet
he has not bothered to spend a few bucks rigging a preventer? Just shows how
he's just a clueless noob blundering along until disaster strikes.

Wilbur Hubbard

O limitlessly wise one, I await your description of your infinitely
experienced modus which will make a preventer when the boom is
directly fore-and-aft - one which is more likely to prevent sideways
movement than the 6-purchase mainsheet, centrally traveled and pulled
very tight - which will know which way the shift will come, as put on
the wrong side, it would, of course, be useless, when the bail holding
the mainsheet fails.

Obviously you no longer read my posts, instead waiting for others on
which to potshot, or you'd have seen that not only do I have and use a
preventer, the preventer was attached to the same bail which failed,
after it tore out a different fitting to which it had originally been
attached, thus rendering it, should I have rigged it to the bail,
useless.

You'd also have taken the most recent silver-platter opportunity I
presented very much earlier in response to your denigration of Doug
King, providing you with not only base and abject failure but the
links to pictures to prove it. I'm not going to continue to deliver
these brilliant targets if you don't shoot at them :{))

L8R

Skip

Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig KI4MPC
See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery !
Follow us at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheFlyingPigLog
and/or http://groups.google.com/group/flyingpiglog

"You are never given a wish without also being given the power to
make it come true. You may have to work for it however."
(and)
"There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in its
hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts."
(Richard Bach, in The Reluctant Messiah)

March 7th - Making Bail, Equipment Failure and other fish stories
 

"Skip Gundlach" wrote in message
...
Hi, Y'all,

On May 6, 7:07 am, Wayne.B wrote:
On Sun, 4 May 2008 17:32:30 -0700 (PDT), Skip Gundlach

wrote:
So, it was a dark and stormy night, as the saying goes, and Lydia
wasn't feeling all that well, what with the rock and roll,
pitching and the like.

OK, so why were you out there? What was your bailout exit if
conditions deteriorated? Why didn't you use it?

We were out there because we were on the way from here to there, so to
speak. The boat was doing just fine, and was in no discomfort (the
boat, that is, nor me, for that matter).

There were several bailout exits observed, planned and possible - but
not needed.


You guys are retired. Learn to take your time and wait for favorable
weather conditions. Learn to avoid running dead down wind in lumpy
conditions. It's a miserable point of sail. Reach up enough that you
can sail effectively with no risk of an accidental jibe. You'll go
faster, with more comfort, using less fuel, and with much less chance
of breaking things.

Believe it or not, the weather as described was favorable, compared to
that which was forecast for a long time forward, or as had been the
case relatively recently. We didn't need to go faster - slower, in
fact, as commented upon later in the post. To get to the point of
sail which would have guaranteed no possibility of an accidental jibe
would have put us either in the Bahamas or ashore (well, aground comes
to mind, as well), as the waves were such that we'd have had to turn
very substantially to minimize the roll/fishtailing, and far enough to
avoid the resultant jibe.

In any event, were it not for the unexpected failure of the bail, it
would have been an entirely uneventful (well, events being defined as
troublesome) trip. Better it should happen then, so we could get it
fixed when we went ashore (and as I write in "real time" vs the past
you see in the post, it has been repaired and awaits reinstallation),
rather than have to deal with the adaptation I made for our later
sailing locally, for the entire passage to Maine. That said, I have
no doubt that there will be something, or several somethings which
will require ingenuity and adaptation to allow comfortable
continuation of our journey this summer.

Onward:

On May 6, 12:39 pm, "Wilbur Hubbard"
wrote:
"Wayne.B" wrote in message

Skippy has ten thousand dollars worth of extraneous electronic systems
yet
he has not bothered to spend a few bucks rigging a preventer? Just shows
how
he's just a clueless noob blundering along until disaster strikes.

Wilbur Hubbard

O limitlessly wise one, I await your description of your infinitely
experienced modus which will make a preventer when the boom is
directly fore-and-aft - one which is more likely to prevent sideways
movement than the 6-purchase mainsheet, centrally traveled and pulled
very tight - which will know which way the shift will come, as put on
the wrong side, it would, of course, be useless, when the bail holding
the mainsheet fails.

Obviously you no longer read my posts, instead waiting for others on
which to potshot, or you'd have seen that not only do I have and use a
preventer, the preventer was attached to the same bail which failed,
after it tore out a different fitting to which it had originally been
attached, thus rendering it, should I have rigged it to the bail,
useless.

You'd also have taken the most recent silver-platter opportunity I
presented very much earlier in response to your denigration of Doug
King, providing you with not only base and abject failure but the
links to pictures to prove it. I'm not going to continue to deliver
these brilliant targets if you don't shoot at them :{))


Running downwind with your mainsail tightly sheeted amidships??? Oh my gawd,
it's worse than I thought! What a dope you are Skippy!

Learn how to sail! Put up a spinnaker and get the mainsail down on the boom
when running directly downwind. IDIOT! You need your vessel to be pulled by
the stem. It will be much easier to steer that way. A sheeted in mainsail
does nothing but destabilize the situation while making smacking noises with
every roll and roll most vessels do when running. Duh!

As for a proper preventer - do not run it to the mainsheet bail. That's
stupid and ineffective. Can you say redundant systems? The preventer should
have it's own bale or padeye. And it need not be at the end of the boom. The
center of the boom will work just fine. And a proper preventer can be rigged
to keep the boom from going either direction even if it is centered. Mine
does. All it took was some doublebraid line, a padeye on the boom, a couple
of blocks on the lower shroud chainplates and a couple clam cleats on the
coachroof.

Get with it, Boy!


Wilbur Hubbard.

March 7th - Making Bail, Equipment Failure and other fish stories
 

I'm having a tough time seeing the initial setup. You are motoring
northward with the Stream and on a run or very broad reach? Is that it?
What I'm having a tough time with is if you are on a broad reach or run,
why the engine? I personally hate the things and if you are on a run,
you are moving the disgusting diesel exhaust into your cockpit / cabin.

Do I have the setup right or am I missing something?

March 7th - Making Bail, Equipment Failure and other fish stories
 

On Tue, 06 May 2008 17:19:19 -0600, Paul Cassel
wrote:

I'm having a tough time seeing the initial setup. You are motoring
northward with the Stream and on a run or very broad reach? Is that it?
What I'm having a tough time with is if you are on a broad reach or run,
why the engine? I personally hate the things and if you are on a run,
you are moving the disgusting diesel exhaust into your cockpit / cabin.

Do I have the setup right or am I missing something?

You're not missing a thing, the question is why. I suppose the only
real answer is inexperience.

Flying a spinnaker at night with only one person on deck is not a good
idea. Wing and wing with the jib poled out and the boom prevented is
one traditional solution of course, and it works pretty well. The
*really* serious downwind cruisers have always favored a double head
sail rig with twin poles, and the main down.

Keeping the main strapped down hard, dead downwind in a decent breeze
and large swells is a recipe for disaster. The only time I'd do that
even temporarily is jibing the spinnaker short handed.

The other solution is the one I originally proposed: reaching up high
enough that the jib is full, thus minimizing the chances of an
accidental. That does require an occasional jibe to stay on course
but that's easily managed with an auto pilot at the helm.

March 7th - Making Bail, Equipment Failure and other fish stories
 

On Tue, 6 May 2008 14:30:51 -0700 (PDT), Skip Gundlach
wrote:

wrote:
So, it was a dark and stormy night, as the saying goes, and Lydia
wasn't feeling all that well, what with the rock and roll,
pitching and the like.

OK, so why were you out there? What was your bailout exit if
conditions deteriorated? Why didn't you use it?

We were out there because we were on the way from here to there, so to
speak. The boat was doing just fine, and was in no discomfort (the
boat, that is, nor me, for that matter).

There were several bailout exits observed, planned and possible - but
not needed.

I beg to differ. If conditions are rough enough that one of you is
not feeling well, then you have over extended your capabilities. It's
nothing to be ashamed of, happens to everyone once in a while. The
trick is to see it coming and go to plan B before things get dangerous
and start to break. Real cruisers always take the easy path if there
is one available. There's no glory in breaking things or over
stressing people. The trick is to get where you're going with the
boat and people all in one piece.

March 7th - Making Bail, Equipment Failure and other fish stories
 

Wayne.B wrote:
....
Flying a spinnaker at night with only one person on deck is not a good
idea. Wing and wing with the jib poled out and the boom prevented is
one traditional solution of course, and it works pretty well. The
*really* serious downwind cruisers have always favored a double head
sail rig with twin poles, and the main down.

Keeping the main strapped down hard, dead downwind in a decent breeze
and large swells is a recipe for disaster. The only time I'd do that
even temporarily is jibing the spinnaker short handed.

The other solution is the one I originally proposed: reaching up high
enough that the jib is full, thus minimizing the chances of an
accidental. That does require an occasional jibe to stay on course
but that's easily managed with an auto pilot at the helm.


My previous boat was a Nonsuch 30, which loved to run dead downwind, but
the long boom was at risk of dipping into the water. The trick I
learned to eliminate the risk of dipping or jibing was to haul up on the
topping lift to create a lot of twist. The boom was raised a foot or
more and the twist prevented jibes. Admittedly, this can't be done on
all rigs, but its easy with a stayless rig.

March 7th - Making Bail, Equipment Failure and other fish stories
 

Wayne.B wrote:
On Tue, 06 May 2008 17:19:19 -0600, Paul Cassel
wrote:

I'm having a tough time seeing the initial setup. You are motoring
northward with the Stream and on a run or very broad reach? Is that it?
What I'm having a tough time with is if you are on a broad reach or run,
why the engine? I personally hate the things and if you are on a run,
you are moving the disgusting diesel exhaust into your cockpit / cabin.

Do I have the setup right or am I missing something?

You're not missing a thing, the question is why. I suppose the only
real answer is inexperience.

Flying a spinnaker at night with only one person on deck is not a good
idea. Wing and wing with the jib poled out and the boom prevented is
one traditional solution of course, and it works pretty well. The
*really* serious downwind cruisers have always favored a double head
sail rig with twin poles, and the main down.

Keeping the main strapped down hard, dead downwind in a decent breeze
and large swells is a recipe for disaster. The only time I'd do that
even temporarily is jibing the spinnaker short handed.

The other solution is the one I originally proposed: reaching up high
enough that the jib is full, thus minimizing the chances of an
accidental. That does require an occasional jibe to stay on course
but that's easily managed with an auto pilot at the helm.


OK, you may be right, but I'd like to hear from Skip to confirm. This
entire episode makes no sense to me.