NUTS & BOATS

 The twice monthly newsletter for to-be and already-are cruisers

Issue #6 - September 15, 2003
Publisher: Trish Lambert
www.takehersailing.com
(C) P. Lambert 2003

Welcome to new subscribers who have  signed up through www.takehersailing.com!

IN THIS ISSUE

• No Exciting Stories From Me!
• The On-Deck Grab & Run Kit

 THIS ISSUE'S COOL CRUISING QUOTE

To let the world into your life is easy: Step ashore and stand still a minute.

To clear the decks again...another story.

John Barth

(Note: Send me your cool cruising quotes and I will include them in future issues!)

Please forward this newsletter to anyone who is interested in the cruising lifestyle.

If you are receiving this issue as a forward,  and would like to get your own free subscription, send an email. 

OUR PRIVACY POLICY

Have you checked out the site recently?

There are some interesting new additions to the Take Her Sailing site! If you haven't visited recently, I invite you to come by and check out some of the new features:

• Boating "how-to" writer Paul Esterle and I have teamed up to offer several series of ebooklets on different aspects of boat maintenance. These will go on sale later this month. In the meantime, check out his free articles on a variety of topics.

• I've added a piece about our trip through Florida's Okeechobee Waterway...uneventful, but hopefully informative!

• Free download! I've collected all my Panama material from site into a PDF document available for free download on the site.

I continually add new and interesting material to the site, so visit often! And, as always, feel free to contact me with comments and suggestions.

A LITTLE CONTROVERSY
No Exciting Stories from Me!                                                   By Trish Lambert

If we ever sit around beers together in a cruising bar somewhere, telling stories about exciting times at sea, I will be the quiet one. I know this because I've been in those discussions before, and I couldn't hold a candle to the adrenaline-pumping tales that were being related by some of the crusty old salts in the group.

The problem is that I am a cautious sailor. I had enough adventures in my first cruise with a thrill-seeker skipper to understand the potential consequences of putting to sea at the "wrong" time of year or sailing a route that flies in the face of conventional wisdom. I've also provided radio assistance to sailors who DID take a "damn the torpedoes" attitude and who subsequently got themselves into a fix out of sight of land - enough times that I pull up short when certain indicators show up in the environment that point to the wisdom of staying in port for the time being.

This characteristic came into play recently. Skip and I planned to shake out the sails right after Labor Day weekend and get the keel moving through the water. We were both looking forward to time on the water after a longer-than-usual time spent at the dock. We got Nehalennia ready for sea on Monday night, and were going to ride the ebb tide out of the Anclote River and into the Gulf on Tuesday morning. Then we listened to the VHF weather broadcast.

Small craft advisories, a strengthening tropical depression off the coast, waves 3 to 6 feet - Skip and I just looked at each other for about a minute, waiting for the other one to be the first to say it. Finally, with a sigh, he broke the silence.

"We'd better not go."

I agreed with a sinking heart. We both know the unpredictability of tropical cyclones, and knew that this depression could become a problem. It did grow sufficiently to become Tropical Storm Henri, and hovered off the coast for pretty much the rest of the week - which was the window of time we had available to sail until I became landlocked in Houston again. So the bad news is that we didn't get to go sailing, though the good news is that Tarpon Springs itself didn't get much of Henri's wrath.

It's inevitable for Monday morning quarterbacking to set in, and Skip and I indulged in second-guessing ourselves for a few days. But we've snapped out of it now, and know that we made the right decision. It would not have been fun out there, and could have gotten downright dangerous if Henri had acted differently.

Skip and I both err on the side of prudence, which makes us excellent if unexciting cruising partners. So we won't be sharing any hair-raising stories when we have that beer with you. But, if the conversation turns to DUMB stuff we've down out cruising, I'll be right in the thick of things! Stand by...I will certainly be sharing some of those stories in future issues!

STACK THE (BOAT) DECK IN YOUR FAVOR!!

Have you been bit by the cruising bug? Join the club! Have you been wondering how to start preparing, what you can expect, or how you should plan the dream?

 Check out Booklet #1 in the Take Her Sailing Cruising Series:
Cruising on a Boat: Joining the World's Largest Village

It includes the 5 Core Principles of Cruising, and examines some of the common assumptions and misconceptions people have about cruising.

There are also suggestions about how to "prepare to prepare" to go cruising, and a lot of anecdotes about my own process that I hope will provide some insight about what to do and not do!!!

The booklet is in PDF format and is downloadable within minutes of purchase.

Order online, or get more information.

CRUISING STRATEGY
The On-Deck Grab & Run Kit                                                               By Skip Randall

They say that experience is a tough schoolmaster, since you take the test first, then get the lesson afterward.  Well, about a year ago I took the test, failed miserably, then studied my lessons over the next few days.  It's embarrassing to relate this story, as it shows just how ill-prepared and complacent I was.  But it was an eye opener for me, and if I can help a few fellow sailors avoid the same fiasco I had, it's worth it.

I was anchored at Solomons, Maryland on the western Chesapeake shore in crisp fall weather.  All was calm, the holding was good sticky mud, and with 60 feet of chain out and my 35-pound CQR dug in, I felt securely parked.  I did a cursory job of stowing my gear and dinghied in to explore the area, returning after dark with a belly full of chowder and mahi-mahi and a nice chardonnay buzz.  I read a bit, then stripped and hit the bunk for some blissful slumber. 

The wind had piped up a bit, but I wasn't really concerned.  That changed radically at 2 AM when the boat's motion woke me abruptly. She was swinging briskly back and forth and heeling sharply in the gusts.  The whistling in the rigging registered about 30 knots on my brain's anemometer.  I sat up and looked out the porthole. I wondered for a few seconds if the poor guy anchored adjacent to me realized he was dragging, as his anchor light appeared to be moving from my beam forward at a pretty good clip.  Then it hit me: I was the one who was dragging! 

I was up in a flash, and that's when the scene became slapstick.  Where were my pants?  Jacket?  Gloves?  Shoes?  Scattered all around the boat was where.  I finally got them together and frantically began to get them on, and the jacket zipper jammed. Damn!

I abandoned the effort and grabbed the flashlight...click, nothing, batteries dead.  Fumbling up on deck in the dark, jacket flapping open in the wind, in rapid order I  1) bonked my head on the boom gallows (minor injury, but lots of blood), 2) tripped over my untied shoelace, and 3) proceeded to execute what I'll call a "face plant".  

I was almost to the bow when I realized that I was steadily closing in on a row of very expensive powerboats in the marina just ahead.  Dollar signs danced before my eyes in the split second that I contemplated the damage I might do to those mighty sterns.

Nehalennia (Celtic goddess of seafarers and namesake of our boat) had mercy on me at this point.  I heard (or rather, felt) a solid "thud' as the boat docked herself against a piling just at the edge of the row of yachts.  I quickly threw a dockline around the piling, then lassoed another and secured the boat.  Fenders went overboard, anchor came up, and I sat for a while in the cockpit to let my heart calm down before heading for the v-berth.

Lessons learned?  Plenty, but the bottom line is this: When at anchor on Nehalennia, I now make a beddy-bye ritual of gathering together EVERYTHING I may need in an emergency and arranging the items methodically for instant deployment. All these items are laid out in the same spot, every time, so I can find them even in the dark.

So that's my story of a potentially disastrous dragging incident, how I dodged the bullet, and lessons learned.

Note: Check out Skip's 9 essentials for his on-deck "grab and run kit" at Skip's Tips!

Send me boat names!

Thanks to those of you who have sent me crazy boat names. Keep 'em coming!!!

I'd like to collect a list of "the good, the bad, and the ugly," and I need your help!

Send your input to me at trish@takehersailing.com.

See you next issue! And please drop me a line any time!