Single Handing!


After leaving San Carlos I had an interesting and enjoyable sail for the first ninety miles or so. The weather was beautifully clear, with the a few scattered thunder head lying many miles off to the north. These did not concern me, as they were traveling further north as the day progressed. The weather report was for clear skies with a few isolated cells in the southern sea. I had a great window for the crossing.


A WARNING ?

The wind was south easterly at six to eight knots. I put up the main and ran out my one fifty Mylar Genoa. I couldn’t believe that with an eight knot wind, I was busting six knots at times. The new bottom job was proving to be a good investment and I was very happy with the performance improvement. The winds were fairly consistent, which is not that common for the sea here. I should have taken this f or an omen, but I allowed myself to be lulled into complacency by the joy of a beautiful day and a perfect sail!

THIS IS HOW MY PHOTOS ARE UPLOADING ON THIS BLOG NOW NOW

IF THIS CONTINUES I WILL SWITCH MY BLOG TO GOOGLE

I passed several islands along the way and as it was turning dark I could see Isla San Pedro Matir off my starboard bow. This put me about eleven hours out from Bahia San Francisquito, which theoretically speaking, should put me there just after daybreak, perfect. Well in a perfect world it would be!

I was about twenty miles out, the wind was steady again after a short lull, at eight knots, the full moon had dipped below the horizon and life was good. I was a bit apprehensive concerning the strong currents, due to the extreme tide changes in the sea at this latitude. When crossing from San Carlos to Bahia San Francisquito, on the Baha side there are several islands, seven or eight, in the immediate area to the north. On an outgoing tide they can be quite strong and dangerous, taking many unforeseen directions. Especially if one is in the vicinity of any shoreline. For example, at around twenty five miles off shore, while motoring in a dead spot, I was doing five and a half knots at six hundred RPMs. Now that is a very strong current.

At about fifteen miles out I was kicked back enjoying the perfect sail when the wind went from eight knots to twenty two and held. This was not just a gust, but a full blow with absolutely no warning whatsoever! With the full main up and a 150 Genoa out, single handing became very interesting and quite busy. As a matter of fact, I was busier than, not one, but ten one legged men at an ass kicking contest. I didn’t bother reefing the main, I just dropped it. Thank God for lazy jacks, and I was considering removing them for sun shade access, not anymore. Due to being in at least a three knot southerly current and a somewhat north easterly wind and confused seas, all of the sudden, the boat was out of control.

Fortunately my boat is well rigged and I have almost full line control from the cockpit. I was caught “with my pants down” so to speak, but was very lucky in a way. While I was dropping the main, the Genoa was being ripped (a good thing). The boat was healing from port to starboard and vice versa, due to the conflicting wind and currents. I say currents, because they changed direction constantly. It came very close to a knockdown several times. I managed to furl in the 150 Genoa, fired the engine, put it in gear, ran the rpm’s up to about 1800, trying to get back control. I then checked the wind speed indicator and it read at thirty two knots. Whew! That was close. Unfortunately, I only” thought” I was out of the woods, so to speak!

At about daylight I heard a sort of knocking noise coming from the starboard side, about midway up the hull. It amazes me how hard it can be sometimes to locate the source of a strange noise in a fiberglass hull. After an extended search, I finally located the source of the noise. It seemed to be coming from the v-drive. I shut the engine down and went on deck to check everything out. This is when I discovered that the port sheet had gone overboard during the high winds. When I pulled it in I found that the end was curled in the shape of a spring and was burnt on the inside. Also there was about ten feet missing. The seas were running six to eight feet at about three seconds and very steep. Rough or not, I had to check the prop and shaft. I grabbed my mask and fins, put a harness on with a long tether, and went overboard. The boat was surging up and down with the waves, so I went under and then braced myself against the hull, and sure enough, the lost ten feet of rode was streaming out behind the prop. It took several dives to remove it, while the boat kept trying to smash me in the head.

There was no figure eight knot on the end of the sheet. After this fiasco, I am sure to be a fanatic about checking for figure eight knots on all sheets before I leave. This will never happen to me again and to hell with Murphy’s law!

I fired up the engine once again and headed towards Bahia San Francisquito. As I was entering the bay I could hear a distinct knocking, but nothing like it had been. The next morning I contacted the Sonrisa Net on the single side band radio and explained my situation. They advised me that the small anchorage was a better protected anchorage and that it was deep enough for my boat. One of the cruisers gave me very explicit directions on how to enter and where to anchor safely. They were all a great help, especially Bob in Herford Arizona, who stayed with me for days on the radio, and even made long distance calls to advise relatives of my situation. I can’t thank him enough. He was a great support to me, also acting as liaison between me and the manufacturer of my v-drive.

The following day I moved the boat to the smaller protected anchorage and to my amazement, there was no knock in it. Would you believe it now had a low growl. Great I thought, now I have a new growl and a ghost knock! I thought that maybe I could fix it there, as there was supposed to be a small town with an airport, tienda, and restaurant about a mile from the anchorage. The next day off I went walking to the town a mile away in 100 degree weather. The closer I got to this town, the more deserted it looked. There was a flat strip with rocks lined up as markers on each side that a small plane could land on. I walked past it to some old buildings that a man was standing in front of watching me approach. There were four people who lived there, but none spoke English. Well I gave them my best Spanglish including pantomimes and discovered there was nothing there for sale except cervasa, which seems to be the beverage of choice in Mexico. The gentleman offered me a ride back, which I declined, as I did need the exercise.

While walking back I saw a young man running down a road that ran parallel to the one I was on. I noticed that they would merge in about a hundred yards, so I hollered “hola” to him and he abruptly slammed on his brakes. He then came through the brush to me and introduced himself and the three dogs that were running with him, using his best Spanglish also. We conversed for a good hour about his life there and my life on a boat. I asked if all the dogs were his and he informed me that he actually had seven. In the days to come I saw him running his dogs twice a day, in the morning and in the afternoon. He was about thirty and his name was Santiago. He had a nice little house just back a little from the beach. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the opportunity to speak to him again, but would wave a hello each day. He was a very nice young man.

After a few days a boat entered the anchorage (Kashmira) with a very nice couple aboard. His name was Steve, but my name computer fails me when it tries to remember hers. Ya know, there’s just nothing good about getting old. Now I think I finally realize why most people get grumpy with old age. It just aint no fun! Anyway, they were a great help also and full of good advice. They were around for several day and a great moral support. I was very thankful for their company.

Two days prior to departure a power boat arrived and anchored off my port bow. The next day I called him on the VHF and made arrangements for him to pull me out five miles from the anchorage. I learned from Bob in AZ. that the factory people said not to use the v-drive, as it will cause extreme damage to it. With no usable propulsion, I would have to be out far enough to be able to clear the point if the strong current was running out. Bob also advised me of the tide table, so I would know the best chance to make it around the point.

I’m tired now and will cover the next section of my trip, from the anchorage through the currents with sail and wind power only, to Santa Rosalia, tomorrow.