On the rocks
No...not my most favorite way to drink a margarita...but us, well, Cielo rather just two hours ago as we attempted to set an anchor at the Thimble Islands. I will leave it to Kevin to write about the MacGuyver-like ideas he came up with that enabled us to avoid spending $400 to get Cielo rescued by Tow Boat (like a very, very expensive AAA for those of you who don't sail :) -- instead, I'll try to convey what it felt like while we were stuck and wondering whether the sound of Cielo's keel slamming against the rocks below meant that an error in judgement was going to cost us our entire trip. Fortunately, once we got the boat off (and retrieved our anchor, which we'd left behind attached to a fender...but again, I'll leave that explanation to Kevin) we were able to survey the damage and it appears we've merely cost ourselves some cosmetic repairs. So, though our egos are bruised and our nerves are a little shot, Cielo appears to be just fine. Since this whole experience just ended and I still have to shower to rinse off the mud that was caked to the bottom of the anchor and now is now caked all over my arms and legs, I haven't really had the chance to reflect on the deeper meaning of what's just happened and what we've learned from this experience...right now, I just feel incredibly thankful that we didn't lose steerage or something equally devastating...and acutely aware that even the routine task of setting an anchor in a protected cove in full day light must always be approached with great care and a healthy respect for what could go wrong.
Lizz
Departure day started slow and foggy, and ended with a bang. Literally. We arrived at the Thimble Islands - Connecticut's own little slice of craggy Maine - and picked our way through the islands and islets looking for a clear spot to anchor. Not realizing I had misread the chart, we circled behind an island, took a loop to make sure we had enough depth to swing, and dropped the anchor. The wind and current backed us down, the anchor started to set, then BANG! We had clearly drifted back into a large rock. Having misread the chart, I hadn't expected to hit a rock. Worst case maybe we bump soft bottom. Nevertheless, there was no denying that was a rock we had just hit. I had a sneaking suspicion the rock was right where it was supposed to be, and that we were the ones in the wrong place. I powered us forward slowly, right back the way we came and towards the anchor thinking, since we had just completed a loop of the area and it appeared clear, that I must have just let us back down too far. As we are just about over where we dropped the anchor, BANG again. Well, more of a bump this time, the keel only, and not the sickening crunch and jarring of the rudder we had gotten the first time. Regardless, now I'm really confused, the adrenaline is pumping, the brain is racing, and I'm more than a little scared. This is not a good way to end our first day. I think I tried to back us off slowly, we bumped again. Now it seems as though there is rock all around us, I'm unable to turn us in any direction, and the anchor is now set and behind us. Letting out chain doesn't seem to allow us to power off, but it does allow the bow to drift down into/onto god knows what. At this point we just stopped to try to assess the situation. I don goggles and trunks and go over the side. I promptly find myself standing in less than chest deep water. NOT good. Cielo's draft is 4'8", and I'm standing in 4' of water. I swim around to the other side and find deep water. The current has us pinned against a rock ledge. There's no way to get off the ledge and get back to the anchor even if we had the slightest desire to head back into the rock mine field from whence we came. Passing power boats are creating wake that is causing us to thump ominously on and against the rock ledge. Unsure of what damage we've already done, fearful of what damage will be done if we don't get out of there, and temporarily at a loss for what to do, we decide to call for a tow. In the midst of calling for a tow I finally collect my wits, run forward with a fender in hand, tie it to the end of the anchor chain, and jettison all 275' of chain and anchor. Finally realizing what was going on underneath us, we power into the current and off the ledge, carefully motor out and pick up an empty mooring. I dove in to assess what damage had been done. It appears that we scraped off some bottom paint and have some gouges on the bottom of the rudder - cosmetic damage only, the equivalent of bruised bottom to go with our bruised egos. I plan to do another check when we get to the clear water of Block Island. After a short breather we set off in the dinghy to retrieve our abandoned anchor and chain - all 400 lbs of it! Thinking back on the experience, it certainly wasn't fun but we did well. We both remained remarkably calm and level-headed. There are things we'd change and do differently, but all in all we came through OK.
Kevin
Lizz
Departure day started slow and foggy, and ended with a bang. Literally. We arrived at the Thimble Islands - Connecticut's own little slice of craggy Maine - and picked our way through the islands and islets looking for a clear spot to anchor. Not realizing I had misread the chart, we circled behind an island, took a loop to make sure we had enough depth to swing, and dropped the anchor. The wind and current backed us down, the anchor started to set, then BANG! We had clearly drifted back into a large rock. Having misread the chart, I hadn't expected to hit a rock. Worst case maybe we bump soft bottom. Nevertheless, there was no denying that was a rock we had just hit. I had a sneaking suspicion the rock was right where it was supposed to be, and that we were the ones in the wrong place. I powered us forward slowly, right back the way we came and towards the anchor thinking, since we had just completed a loop of the area and it appeared clear, that I must have just let us back down too far. As we are just about over where we dropped the anchor, BANG again. Well, more of a bump this time, the keel only, and not the sickening crunch and jarring of the rudder we had gotten the first time. Regardless, now I'm really confused, the adrenaline is pumping, the brain is racing, and I'm more than a little scared. This is not a good way to end our first day. I think I tried to back us off slowly, we bumped again. Now it seems as though there is rock all around us, I'm unable to turn us in any direction, and the anchor is now set and behind us. Letting out chain doesn't seem to allow us to power off, but it does allow the bow to drift down into/onto god knows what. At this point we just stopped to try to assess the situation. I don goggles and trunks and go over the side. I promptly find myself standing in less than chest deep water. NOT good. Cielo's draft is 4'8", and I'm standing in 4' of water. I swim around to the other side and find deep water. The current has us pinned against a rock ledge. There's no way to get off the ledge and get back to the anchor even if we had the slightest desire to head back into the rock mine field from whence we came. Passing power boats are creating wake that is causing us to thump ominously on and against the rock ledge. Unsure of what damage we've already done, fearful of what damage will be done if we don't get out of there, and temporarily at a loss for what to do, we decide to call for a tow. In the midst of calling for a tow I finally collect my wits, run forward with a fender in hand, tie it to the end of the anchor chain, and jettison all 275' of chain and anchor. Finally realizing what was going on underneath us, we power into the current and off the ledge, carefully motor out and pick up an empty mooring. I dove in to assess what damage had been done. It appears that we scraped off some bottom paint and have some gouges on the bottom of the rudder - cosmetic damage only, the equivalent of bruised bottom to go with our bruised egos. I plan to do another check when we get to the clear water of Block Island. After a short breather we set off in the dinghy to retrieve our abandoned anchor and chain - all 400 lbs of it! Thinking back on the experience, it certainly wasn't fun but we did well. We both remained remarkably calm and level-headed. There are things we'd change and do differently, but all in all we came through OK.
Kevin
posted by Lizz at
6:58 PM
2 Comments:
Well, that is the way to start off! Thankfully everyone was alright and the boat was not hurt too badly.
Dude, that is crazy, strong work!
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