High and dry.
Posted: Sat Apr 16, 2005 11:22 am
"We'll camp here."
Ruben 'Rooster' Cogburn. East Texas, circa 1882.
Actually, what happened was we're punkered in north of Point Judith just off a windward shore trying to get a snooze. NOAA: winds east 5 knots, protected waters smooth.
We were hit with an unforecast forty knot gust out of the northeast and the rigging began to scream. My handy dandy 6 lb. guardian fortress just wasn't up to it. We dragged, I mean we dragged sideways about 300 yards and ended up in this marsh.
0537. High tide. Better check what's going on..
Little flashlight, Hey, there's weeds up all around the boat. Look, there's bushes right here. I wonder where we are?
We climb down calf deep and push and push and push the boat toward the lights on the opposite shore, but the boat don't push too good.
Then everything went out from under us.
I get this folded piece of paper out of my pocket and see that the next high tide will arrive around 1632. The one that dumped us was 2.6 feet and this next sucker is a 3.4. I don't understand what this means but it looks encouraging. (http://www.saltwatertides.com/dynamic.d ... sites.html)
We have all day so we sit and talk and it begins to end up like, "yeah, and so's your sister."
My Mate has this song going through her head about sitting on a rock in a pond watching the tide go way. I'm reading Nigel's book about how to keep the telltales on the sail going in the same direction.
Tide changes, and with each wave lap, two more inches of muddy earth are covered with froth. Like watching grass grow, like watching the second hand on your watch, like watching a sailboat race.
The boat is definitely not cocked 'downward' so I open the ballast valve and water gushes forth. Not as pronounced, however, as at the marina ramp when I'm definitely cocked upwards. It eventually just drips and I close the gate.
1427, the little knolls are covered with dirty water and we begin to rock. Im watching my clock and want to wait, but no, down we go calf deep again. The boat breaks loose and begins to skirt down along the beach. No stainless steel handicapped restroom handle on the back of this boat, the Mate is hanging on to a rudder line rope trying to get back aboard. I can tell from her expression she isnt scared, just more mad.
Anyway, we motor back to the marina in Panacea and some guys trot out onto the pier to help us tie up. Theyre curious about where we were when the **** hit the fan. An involved story about what happened there dock side when the gale came through.
Mate says, These little Macs are tough, we just rode it out.
Up on the pavement ready to derig and Im looking at the squashed down tires on the trailer. Gees, just pumped them up a couple days ago and I go back and open the ballast valve. Splush, fireplug strength. Theres a couple guys and a family watching. Wow, see you took on a little water.
I remember one of the remarks from the board and say, Na, thats just the holding tank.
So, has anyone jettisoned ballast underway to discover that there was considerable ballast that remained? Not a good thing.
