New adVENTUREs for Venutura!

Yes, it's true, Ventura is now in somebody else's hands.  In a fit of feeling overwhelmed by all the STUFF I have, (8 boats) I put Ventura up for sale.  Just over 24 hours later she gone.  Weird.
I don't agree with the saying that the two best days for any sailor are first, the day he buys his boat, then second, the day he sells it.  It was not a great day or feeling to see the boat being driven away on it's trailer.  We went thru a bit together in a short time.  Each of us came close to ending our days.  It was a rough day for both of us, but we each returned to the water and are here still.  We each have a good story to tell from it.
I think that some young boys are going to be the new captains of Ventura, there fathers will be crew.  I never got her name painted on, only penciled in, and I kind of hope the boys pick a name for her that makes the boat even more their own, though I do think that VENTURA is a pretty great name.
Now what?
Sail the skiff?  Paddle the kayaks?  Row the pram?  Get the Bristol in order and launch her?  That sounds almost too good to be true.  It has been so long, too long since I have sailed that boat.  She really is the boat.  She got me thru some allot.
Well what ever is next, as long as it's 'messing about' it should be good.

Best wishes and fair winds to the new owners of VENTURA.

The first week of summer

The summer solstice was just a few days ago and today, after 14 months since the knock down, Ventura sailed once again!

It was a very nice day though I could have used just a touch less wind, but in the end it was just fine.  Trying to get this rig back together and sort out everything is tedious and time consuming.  One really needs to be happy just "messing about" in boats with a trailer sailor because so much time is spent getting the boat to the water and ready to go, then doing the reverse at the end of the day.

Our sail was only about 2 hours, but it was enough time to take the boat thru it's paces.  We raised both main and jib.  We reefed the main.  We tacked.  We jibed.  We docked and we used the motor.  It is all working again.  The only thing we didn't really do was anchor.

I have along "to do list" after the sail.  Mostly things I forgot, some important, some not so much.  I forgot to put on the rigging for the reef point, that was very annoying.  I made it work with spare line onboard, but heavily chastised myself for not thinking it all thru.

The out board was a bit inconsistent as we left the dock and eventually died, but we had decent wind so we just sailed.  On the return I ran it for a while and it eventually evened out and ran the entire time we needed it.  This was the first time it has really run since it was IN the river.  I did maintenance it after it's sinking but hadn't really run it very long since.  I think it will be fine.

In truth my enthusiasm for this kind of boat, this kind of sailing isn't very strong.  I miss my full keeled cruiser on it's mooring.  But I will make due with what I have right now.

It was good to be back on the water and even sailing with in sight of where I took my very cold swim, the one that was almost the last thing I ever did, was fine.   I really only gave it a thought for about 2 seconds, maybe 3.

There is a lot of summer ahead.  Todays sail only cost 10 dollars at the launch ramp.  I have to do quite a few of those to equal the cost of a slip for the summer, so that makes spending the 10 bucks a lot easier.  Let's see what the summer has in store for us.

Fair Winds!

Although I am thinking of having a new mainsail built for Ventura and using her as much as I can I will say that if anybody needs a very, very cheap boat and trailer I am open to selling her.  I have too many boats right now and I really miss sailing my Bristol

sails

I know that there is something elemental missing from these photo's, like water, but one step at a time.  Presenting the Venture 21s.  "S" stands for short rig.

Formerly the staysail, now the jib.  Kinda small but it'll work

The shortened main sail.  Always was short along the foot.
The sail actually has roach to the leech but I don't have the battens in.

Cut and pasted jib, from the first photo into the second and now we
have all working sail up.

It's not a lot of canvas but I ain't racing and at this point in my experience with this boat, I'd rather be under canvased.  (Wink, wink, nod, nod).  I hope to be in the water next week.  Before the equinox would be nice.

My rigging measurements were good

New rigging copper swaged eyes, slathered in lanolin and
covered in heat shrink tubbing.
Workboat handsome, or industrially cute?

I stepped the mast today with the newly made rigging.  All the measures were good.  The turnbuckles were about 60 % open when it was all snugged up.  That should leave some room to take up if and when things stretch out under strain.
It was a breezy day so not only was I wishing that I was launching, but I also had to be careful about raising sails while the boat was on the trailer, which I did to see how things fit.
The small jib which was the staysail is truly small, but, it fits nicely on the forestay.  I have yet to alter the jib and genny to fit the new rig measures.
I also set the main, which was much easier for the topping lift that I added to the boom, but still awkward as the mast is really designed to have the luff, as well as the foot of the mainsail in the groove.  This main has the roping on it to set it this way but lugs have been put along the luff.  I'm not sure why this was done and only realized this now after owning the boat for a year and a half.  Duh!
Anyway, the mainsail's new height is good.  I may end up with a lot of chafe as the leach passes under the back stay and the topping lift.
I took pictures but my phone is having issues sending them to the computer.(piece 'o' shite!)  I'll add them later.
I will say again that it is so much easier to raise this mast now.  I suppose that the 15% of length that is no longer out at the end of it makes a lot of difference.
I'm not sure what is next, maybe launching her and sailing.  There is a thought!  It's been a while.

Jib (staysail) is ready

I had to stitch a new clew onto the staysail that I am using as the jib.  It works pretty well for stronger weather.  I added a patch and then a roped grommet to the clew and we are set to go!
I also moused all the upper rigging points.  So I guess the next thing is to try raising the mast again and seeing how it all worked out!

Main's done

I got the main all put together and it came out pretty good, I think.  I hand stitched the new patches and used aluminum pop rivets for the head board (I reused the old head board) and then pounded in a grommet for the halyard to attach to.

Re-cut. shorter, stronger....
and hand stitched

I did have to put 4 of the sail slides back on but I used 3 of the old ones and one new one I had lying around.  I put in on the mast, as the mast is by the shop on saw horses and it seems to fit just fine.
Now on to the jib that has a torn out clew.  I think I will add a patch and then a roped grommet for the sheets to tie to.
Memorial day is this coming weekend, unofficial boat season beginning.  I have no intention of being on the water this weekend because it is usually madness.  This also means I am in no rush to get these projects done other than needing to move on to others in the shop, oh yah, and I'd like to go sailing again someday.

Re-cut the sails for "short rig"

The Venture 21 was considered a pretty quick boat in it's day.  It certainly seemed to move thru the water easily when I started sailing Ventura, even though the main sail was not the original, and about a foot and a half shorter along the foot, and two feet on the luff.  Now with the mast being about 3 feet shorter from the damage and the repair, the sails a little bit tall.
I am cutting the mainsail down by about a foot, and I need to loose about a foot and a half off of the jib and genny.  The staysail will continue to work as is if I fly it on the forestay in heavy weather, as I did before because the boat didn't have a inner stay rigged as was the original sail plan.  I will in fact rig an inner stay so as to assist the new rig.  I hope to set is up in the fashion of a running back stay so that it can easily be set and slacked for tacking.  It's an idea.

Old main, cut down, patch to be added, reused headboard

In re-rigging the boat I have had to raise and lower the shorter mast a few times and the few feet of lost length has made the job very much easier.  Yahoooo!  I am not overly concerned about the lost sail area.  On the main sail the loss will come from the head of the sail, a portion of the sail that has very little drive or area.
The jib and genny are a bit of a different story.  I don't really want to just lop off their tops, so I am considering putting a grommet for the tack up a foot and a half from the original and adding reefing nettles, and continue to use the original clue.  The sails could always stay "reefed" but the original area would be preserved.  Why I want to do this I am not really sure.  Partly because I am concerned about getting a good shape of the head sail if I recut it.
It is good weather for sitting in the shop with the big doors open and hand stitching the sails.  It is better weather for actually being sailing. All things in their time.
I found that a sail maker I have used before would build me a brandy new main sail for under $500, including shipping.  It is VERY tempting, but mostly because I am lazy.  The old main never set very well, was blown out and old, but, I do own it already and this boat is about spending NO money(which I have failed at, but it is a boat so I can't be to hard on myself can I).  If after launching the boat seems to have a good place in my life then I might splurge and order a new main someday.  For now it is snip, snip, stitch, stitch.
If I ever do order the new main I think I will have the change the insignia from V21, to V21s, to signify the short rig.

"New" Standing rigging

My new standing rigging is finished!  After much research, and a bit of stepping back to look at the big picture, I decided to go with the "nico-press" type of fittings because it was inexpensive, I could to the work myself, I didn't need expensive new tools or machines, and I could reuse a bit of the material I already had.  I fully realize that many might be critical of the use of this type of fitting, and I might be to, if I were setting up a boat bound for open water or even strong weather, but in this case the boat is to be used for recreational, fair weather sailing, and having "made" the rig myself, I will be more mindful, and aware of the conditions of both the rig and the weather.

Had I been using this rig a year ago, I might have been more conservative about what I put the boat thru, decided to quit sooner, or not gone out at all, and saved my self the experience of being very, very cold and wet. (on the good side, I now know what that is like.  Ignorance can breed fear, and knowledge allows for better judgement, I hope)

SS thimble, 2-Swaged copper sleeves on lower shrouds
coated with anhydrous lanolin, then covered in shrink wrap tubing

Some info on this rigging technique:
-1x19 S.S. doesn't want to bend the short radius of the thimbles.  It seems that the sharp bend may compromise some of the strength of the rig.
-1x19 S.S. requires 2 copper sleeves, each swaged 3 times along their length.
-I made sure that the sleeves did not actually touch the thimble, or each other.  I did this to promote a full compression of each swage.
-The end of the SS wire stuck out of the lower swage, but was covered by the heat shrink tubing.  Before the tubing was applied the entire fitting was slathered in anhydrous Lanolin for protection.
-I used a swaging tool that uses 2 bolts, tightened down to compress the copper sleeves.  This tool was the least expensive(a priority in this boat), smallest (so that in the future it can be kept on board my larger boat for emergency rigging), and it was simple.
- I checked the swages with a micro meter to see if they fell in the specs that I found on a forum thread about home built airplanes and this type of rigging.  the tool was pretty consistent with the thickness of the finished swage and that dimension collaborated with the aviation specs.

I believe that Brian Toss mentioned that most of the boats he'd seen rigged in this way were in the UK.  He didn't recommend these fittings very highly and seemed to think they were the wrong "tool for the job".  I wouldn't disagree with him ultimately, but, I think that they will serve fine in this application.  Most of the negative comments I found on the forums about pressed copper sleeves seemed to be about the way the finished fitting looked.  I actually like the work boat kind of look they have.  It is even more attractive because the look reflects that I did the work myself.

Using this tool with these parts required really taking my time setting up and making each swage, three for each sleeve, two sleeves for each eye, two eyes per stay, six stays, plus a few practice sleeves.  I have to enjoy each moment of the work or I will rush to be done and botch the job.

Now on to recutting the sails.

Presto! the mast is in one piece again.

Here is the repair of the mast with the pop rivets in.  I found that the epoxy got thick pretty quickly so I worked fast.  I think that with the number of rivets, the epoxy, and the area of the scarf, the mast should be pretty strong.

Looks like I took a Bedazzler to by mast!

 The mast does have some slight twist and bend to it but not so much that I don't think it will work fine.  The sail track lined up just right.  I am hoping that with the rigging I can pull it into as true a shape as is necessary for it to work.  The distortion is only slight.

I had to cut off about an inch of the spreaders because on got smashed on the inboard end.  I don't think that will be a real problem.  As I have been going thru the rigging I think that I can get three of the six pieces of wire rope from what I have.  I think the back stay can become the forestay and the upper shrouds can become the lowers.  All of the wire rigging was cut by the tow company when the recovered the boat.  Kind of seemed like somebody just got a new wire cutter and had to try it out.  Oh well.

Ventura mast repair

As I walked across the street to collect up the fire wood I'd been chopping I looked back and caught sight of Ventura sitting there on her trailer.  I had put some white primer paint over the fiberglass repairs so the big blotchy scars were not so apparent.   I had a flash of the sensation of sailing her and all the kindly attributes I could ascribe her, including my surprise to discover that she was a quick little boat that could move along in the lightest air.  I laughed out loud, giggled really.  How many things that you own actually make you laugh out loud, or even smile each time you see them.  My boats do this for me.
So with renewed energy I set to work on the mast repair.

I had cut and shaped the 2 halves of the 18 inch section of mast that I was using for the scarf repair.  Now that they fit inside the mast snuggly I could start the attachment process.  I decided on a pattern for the fasteners.  Each half of the masts would get a total of 22 rivets, all offset so as not to create weak "perforation in the mast.  I drilled out the holes in the mast to the size of the pop rivets, 3/16 inch.  I then fit the sleeves inside, as snug as I could get them to the inside of the mast  and chose one of the rivet placements for the first self taping sheet metal screw to be placed.  I pre drilled the hole, undersize in the sleeve as it was held in place and then drove in the screw.  This had the affect of drawing the sleeve in tight to the inside of the mast.  This allowed me to then drive in the other fasteners and have the sleeve as tight to the inner wall as possible.

Once I finished attaching both sleeve halves to the bottom section of mast it was time to attach the upper section.  Lining up the two pieces as best I could and using length of scrap metal T track set in the sail track to keep it straight and aligned I then continued the process of driving in screws.  These screws are temporary, holding the sleeves in place until I put in the permanent pop rivets.  Using the screws to pull the inner sleeves tight against the inside of the mast and allowing me to remove them and adjust if needed.  The sheet metal screws are a smaller diameter than the pop rivets so that if a hole from a screw needs to be adjusted, the pop rivet will still be able to do it's job.

Even with only a few screws in I stood the mast up and the scarf felt very strong.  I am probably going to coat the sleeves with a TiteBond epoxy, that is supposed to work on aluminum before I rivet them in place.  I figure that even if the epoxy doesn't bond well, it should work as a bedding between the two surfaces.

epoxy and fiberglass

Yesterday I did the fiberglass work on the Venture.  Working with this stuff is so distasteful that I seriously considered not doing, stripping the hull and taking the boat to be scrapped, then building a wooden boat replacement.  In the end I couldn't deal with the idea of being so wasteful and started mixing up epoxy resin.

I had ground down the holes in the deck so that I could layer in the fiberglass patches already.  So I taped up the wholes from inside the cabin to create a bottom and wet out the hole with epoxy for bonding then added a layer with fairing compound so I could shape it from the underside should I go that far, but I seriously doubt I will.  Then came layer upon layer of chopped strand and mat fiberglass.  After that had gotten somewhat solid but still green, I put a layer of epoxy thickened with fairing compound so that I could create a smooth sanded surface.

I was lucky that the day was cool and a slight breeze kept the smells from just saturating me.  Checking this morning it all looks pretty good.  At the mast step I added extra layers of glass for strength.

I may start sanding later today.

I am very much considering cutting down the mast height a bit.  I don't race and want a boat that will be easy to use.  I think the mast was about 24 feet long and a 21 or even 20 foot mast would be that much easier to rig at launchings.  The reduced sail area would be a bit but I am not to overly concerned.  I still have to scarf the mast back together so nows the time to make these choices.

IT has begun

Yesterday I started the repair of the Venture 21 by taking the old winch rig for the centerboard off and sizing up the new replacement one.  I also bailed out all of the water that had leaked in over the past couple of months during the heavy rain storms, about 10 gallons.  I have been leaving the hatches open to dry it all out.
I also took off the starboard forward lifeline stanchion and straightened it out, almost to what it was.  It is plenty good enough.  I took off the remaining wire life line in preparation for replacing those lines with rope.  In my thinking rope is plenty strong enough and it has more elasticity.  Stanchions are know to rip out or bend and at least leak after being worked by force on the lines.  On my larger boat the lifelines are rope and have served just fine.

Today I got the grinder out and ground down the spots on the deck that will need to be repaired with fiberglass and epoxy patches.  The four points where the bow pulpit was and the mast step.  I intend to use just fiberglass to repair even where it was cored with plywood.  I like my repairs to be stronger than original if possible.

Getting all the gear together and protection for myself I was reminded of how much I hate working with fiberglass. This alone is enough of a reason to get rid of my glass boats and make the fleet all wood.  Upon starting in with the grinder I was immediately taken back to the days when I remodeled my Bristol by cutting out the cockpit and making a flush deck, by the smell of melting/grinding gel coat and polyester resin.  It isn't a totally unpleasant smell in that it has connotations of really great times doing fun and crazy things with boats back when I first started boating.  It is really the dust that goes everywhere and is always itchy later on.  I have found the best way to get if off is to shower in COLD water with shampoo to float all of the dust off.  The cold water keeps your pores from opening up and letting the dust get deeper in to your skin.

It is good to see these great big holes in the deck right now because I know that they mean progress.  In truth I'd much rather just scrap this boat and build a wooden replacement for it, but I hate just throwing things out when they can be made useful.  Nobody nibbled at the Craig's list add for the boat, so I guess that I am stuck with it for now.

I am thinking of it as the "Frankenstein" boat.  I will patch it, and get it back on the water with whatever can be had for free or really cheap.  I intend not to do anything about the accommodations below.  The boat is just to get me on the water as cheaply and easily as possible for daysails.  If I stick to this line of thought I might just get back on the water for Fall sailing.

Mother's day on the water

Went out to the lake for a row/sail on Mother's day.  I decided that if I am going to be celebrating all of the Mother's that I know and care about Mother Earth should be in the list too.
Got to the lake and it was blowing white caps into the launch ramp again so we left the sailing rig on land and rowed out to the lee of an Island and enjoyed the sun, a cup of coffee and each other.  The pine trees on the island were the special treat filling the nose with the scent of pine and the ears with the swishing sound  that they make in the breeze.  It's against the law to land on these islands but anchoring in the little bites or bays of them is fine and that is what we did.  It is almost preferable to stay aboard and just spread out in the bottom of the boat.  The waves bob us around and the sun heats our bones.  The dog would prefer to explore the island, and chase some of the geese that roam there, but eventually she settles down and lies with us in the boat.
I think that I still have a few residual affects from the April sail lingering around in my head.  While rowing out in the skiff the wind would gust up and push on the topsides and our bodies, enough so as to heel the boat slightly.  It made me aware of it, and reminded me how much I prefer full displacement boats with all that ballast below the water line to keep the top of the mast above water, and the keel under the water.  We had a 17 foot daysailer for a while and I was always concerned about getting it knocked down.  I guess this says more about the kind of weather I've tended to go out in.  Since I learned to sail and have mostly sailed on ballasted boats I suppose my sensitivities to wind strengths are more appropriate to them.  I should think it would not be a bad thing to learn to be more conservative, as would be appropriate with a light weight boat, in my judgement of wind strength.

on the lake

I have gotten a few inquiries about the Venture.  I do think it would make a good project boat for somebody willing to put in the work.

Movin on, maybe

I posted to the Venture on Craig's list today.  Maybe somebody will need a good, cheap project boat.  I will go ahead and start the repairs anyway.

http://hudsonvalley.craigslist.org/boa/4461896475.html

Seems like a Reasonable thing to do.

Skiffing again!

Working on a project for the skiff.  I'd like to add a rudder to her, so, I tried out this one that I made for a fiberglass dinghy. just to see what it looked like.

rudder from another boat just for size.

 It seems pretty close to being about the right size so I decided to glue up some cedar decking on edge to get the width I want.  I will add some horizontal "straps" to  help the glue hold the rudder together.

reclaimed cedar decking being glued up for a rudder.

I'll have to work on the actual shape of the rudder and I may need to weight it to counter the buoyancy of the cedar.  I am thinking that instead of a typical tiller I will use a fore and aft steering stick so as to make it all less cumbersome.
I am sticking with the Gorilla Glue for the adhesive and the cedar decking is already in use on the boat.  I may offset the cedar with yellow pine cheek blocks, or the luan plywood, but I haven't decided yet.  I'd like the cedar to be varnished.
It was extremely pleasant to be working on this boat again and to be in the shop again.  I hope to get the boat out for a row soon, maybe tomorrow.  After the winter dealing only with the Venture I had forgotten how fond I am of these boats that I made with my own hands.  Makes me kind of wonder why I ever bothered to get another fiberglass boat.

Speaking of the Venture, I found some scrap aluminum in the shop today, some plate, some tube.  I think that it might be usable as the joint for the mast so that I don't have to cut down the mast anymore.  If this works out then I will have only lost a foot of mast height, which may mean that I won't have to recut any of the sails.

clean cut

Today I cut the rough edges off the mast to begin the repair.   I cut out a 4 in section to experiment with how I might make a sleeve/insert.  After cutting a slot on the back side of the mast I realize that I will need to cut down the diameter of the insert quite a bit in order to get it to fit in the old mast.

Cut off ends and a section to experiment with.

 I have done some looking around online to see what others have done and I think I am narrowing down my approach.  Right now I am thinking that I will cut the insert in half, lengthwise in order to make 2 shaped plates that I can then mechanically attach the 2 mast pieces with.  Since I am planing to reduce the rig anyway I can make the insert/plate about 3 feet long, which should give enough area for the scarf, a foot and a half in each section.

Clean cut ends ready to be joined back together.
Now what?

I am sure the most challenging part will be lining it all up so that the sail slugs run clean in the track.

I finally got inside the boat and got out the water that the tow boats bilge pumps didn't pick up, about 12 gallons.  I also put the port sheet winch back together.  Amazingly, I still have all the pieces to it, even after the sinking and 2 days under water!  I also put some plastic and tape over the holes in the deck that will eventually be repaired so as to keep them from allowing more water in the next time it rains.  I have a feeling this boat will forever smell of the Hudson River.

extremely trailer friendly mast?

broken mast and boom from Venture 21

Trying to get stuff sorted out.  Here is the 24 foot mast now in 13' and 11' sections.  If I keep the boat???? and fix her up I would consider trying to splice the mast back together, in a manner similar to the way  I saw Yves Gelinas do after being dismasted during a round the world trip.  Jean-du-Sud Around the world is a really good movie he made of his trip and in it you can see how he fixed his mast and continued.With Jean du Sud Around the World
With Jean-du-Sud
I think I would prefer a mast of about 20 or 21 feet anyway.  It would be easier to raise and lower when launching and the boat is pretty fast with this sail plan already.  For recreational sailing the loss of sail area doesn't bother me at all.  I have been sailing with a used main from a smaller boat anyway.
At this point it is all just smoke because until I get the boat back home I am not sure that I will be keeping it.

Sail #15 as I remember it.

Ventura sinking April 5, 2014, approximately 7pm off of Haverstraw, NY.
Wind gusts were reported up to about 40 mph.

The forecast that day was for strong winds, but nothing above levels  I had been out in previously, on this boat, until later on in the day and then it was going to be very strong, 30 knots plus.  But it was early in the day and the sun was out and warm.  I figured I had enough time for a quick out and back, or in this case with wind from the west, a quick down river sail to the south end of the bay and back up, all a beam reach.  Having only a week left on my contract with the marina, I suppose I was overly enthusiastic about getting out for a sail if I had the chance.

When I got to the marina I could see the wind was pretty strong but not so much that a small set of sail, or sails couldn't handle it.  I think I hanked on the working jib and lashed it to the deck.  That would mean that I still had a smaller sail to change down to, but more significant to the matter is that it would mean I thought the conditions were not so bad as to begin under the smallest rig.  The truth is I don't remember for sure, but I do have some memory of changing down to the smaller jib later and it wouldn't have made sense that I started out with no capacity for reducing sail knowing that conditions were set to increase in strength.

The tide was coming in, but even so, we made great time down river.  I figured that on the way back, the tide would give a bit of a boost, should I need to beat to windward at all, but with a westerly or even north westerly I might be able to get back in one tack.

The sail down was fast and fun and not at all worrying.  I even shot two video clips, one with dialog, which I usually don't do.  Because I made such good time I figured I could afford to go a little further south than I had planned (mistake #1).  I ended up going about a mile further south.  Because of the shape of the river, a bend to the east, and the land formations, 500 foot cliffs coming straight up out of the water, the wind took on a more northerly direction here.  I noticed that the one other sailboat out was heading south under genny alone and making very good speed. On the eastern side of the river a few fishing boats were out and seemed to be having a lumpy time of it.

The character of the river in this particular area is quite a bit rougher, I think this is due to the bend in the direction of the channel.  I have come to call this area "The Haverstraw Triangle" and have since found it to be known by the locals who use these waters as particularly rough when wind against tide conditions are present.  It is kind of like our own little gulf stream.  In northerly wind the fetch is about 8 miles, which is plenty enough to build up some of the waves that happen there.  They can become almost standing , breaking waves with 4 feet between the tops and the trough, steep enough that boats just drop off them, pounding at the bottom of the wave.  The SeaTow operator I talked to said he knew that area and has had waves coming over the top of his rescue boat there.  He said it made him need to change his shorts!

Because of the shift of the wind, instead of just changing tacks from one beam reach to another, when I began my return I went from going off the wind, which reduces the apparent strength of the wind, to sailing to windward, which increases the apparent wind strength.  Immediately the situation changed from being a fun little sail, to a serious concern, and a lot of work.

This is when I remember spending a bit of time changing down to the small jib, which is actually the staysail for the boat.  But with just a jib up the boat couldn't make any distance to windward and the wind was now blowing directly from where I wanted to go.

I didn't want to raise the main sail as I knew there was too much wind for it, but the problem was, I needed to move the sail plan further aft in order to make any headway.  I tried moving the staysail from the forestay back to the pad eye on the deck were it would have been flown if it was being used as a staysail.  This was rather challenging in these conditions but by leaving the upper most hank on the forestay I was able to raise the sail under some kind of control but still move the sail aft.  This actually worked, so to speak.

With the jib moved aft I found I could hold station, that is not loose ground, but I still couldn't make any headway to home.  During all these maneuvers I had been drifting further and further south.  Because I was west of Nyack state beach and east but also south of Sing Sing Prison, I figure I had lost about 3 more miles.

I used to sail close to Sing Sing prison, thinking that the sight of a sail boat might be something that could cheer the inmates.  I could see them in the yard and hoped it didn't just make them sad wishing that they were out there.  I remember reading Daniel Spurr's book, "Sheltered by the Falling Stars" back when I started sailing. There was a section in that book that spoke of a fellow prison inmate standing on chair, eyes closed, rocking back and forth imagining that he was sailing.  It was a chance for him to feel some kind of freedom, a chance for him to cope with his incarceration.

As I sailed in sight of Sing Sing this time, unable to get away from it much, I was sure that if any body in there was seeing me, out here on the river today, he might not be so eager to trade places just then.  They had there razor wire and armed guard towers, today I had the waves and head wind and felt a bit the prisoner too.

I decided I had to raise the mainsail if I was going to have enough power to make to windward.  Oddly, the wind either died down a notch or I just got used to the constant screaming of it in the rigging.  Either way, I got the main raised with it's one reef set.  I had sewn in that reef after I got the boat, as it had none at all, which is akin to having a car that only goes full throttle or none.

As if setting a trap for me, just after getting the main sail working and starting to make a tiny bit of progress north, sailing as close to the wind as I could, a gust and a shift to the west sent the boom right up against my head. It was hard enough to make me take a moment to check for blood, check to see if my vision was still what it should be and that the rest of what I questioningly call my senses, were still in order.

Deciding that I was well enough, I got the boat on a new heading pointing south of west, away from home, but, closer to the cliffs and that might provide some shelter from the wind.  As I trimmed in the jib sheet for the new heading the port sheet winch failed.  The plastic washers on the main bolt disintegrated after too many years of UV degradation.  I quickly ran the line across the boat to the starboard winch, looking closely at it's cracked and aged washer and wondered how long it would last.

Upon getting close to the western shore and what I had hoped would be the shelter of the 500 foot cliffs I found that instead the cliffs pushed the wind around to the north and accelerated them.  On the bright side, from here I could tack and make run up river with what might be a clear shot of the eastern shore, in the next bay north.

As it turned out I needed to make a few tacks to get past Croton Point, and I had to cross thru the commercial traffic channel in that area, "The Haverstraw Triangle" again.

The entire time sailing thru this area I was just waiting for something to break.  The boat was dropping off the wave tops so hard that I could see the hull flexing inward thru the companionway.  On the starboard side just forward of the shrouds where the boat lands each time it comes off a wave the hull had signs of a repair that was made before I acquired it.  I had no real idea how good the work was and I was very concerned that this beating would let me know.  To add to that worry was my concern that one of the wire stays supporting the mast would eventually give way under the shock of the thudding crashes at the bottom of the wave troughs.  I would listen to the clang of the metal rigging pieces and the clanging of the sail slides in the track, and be glad not to hear the "thwang" sound of wire rope parting violently under strain.  Wire rope can cut right thru a person when it gives way under strain, just like slicing a piece of cheese.  I have heard of it happening to guys towing cars and riggers at construction sites.

After a few hours, I am not sure how many, but then again, I was only supposed to be out for a few hours total, I found that I had made my way north enough to be just about even with the marina, but 2 miles to the east of it on the Westchester shore.  I figured I could tack and get close enough to the marina, before I lost too much northing, and be able to drop sail and motor in.  I was very concerned that I shouldn't be out of range of the marina for the fuel I had onboard.  The entrance to the marina was dead to windward from the river and with out the outboard I wouldn't be able to get in.

It was well into the afternoon now, I had planned to be finished sailing by noon.  I began to bring the boat about and start my tack for home.  As usual, before putting the helm over, I checked behind me then ahead, that is when I saw the tug pushing the barge down the river.  OK,  bummer, but no big deal I'll just hold this course a little longer until I run out of room and then I will short tack on this side of the channel until the tug is down river and clear of my path.  He was still up the river a ways but there was no way I was going to put my boat in his path, especially in these conditions, especially when the boat was suffering and could break further and limit my control of steering.

When he got far enough along that I thought I could start my new heading I noticed that behind him was another barge and tug.  They looked identical, twins.  OK, shit, I'd have to wait a bit longer but now I was out of room and was starting to loose a little ground, I was making leeway south, and the wind had come back up a notch.  I was beginning to worry that I'd lose most of my hard won distance north while waiting for these two tugs to pass.  That's just about when I saw the third barge and tug right in line behind the second.  Triplets, they all looked identical.

In novels you may have read of mariners who are being tossed about by the sea, beaten down by waves, headed by the wind, and swept up by the tides.  They turn their sun and wind burned faces skyward and curse the gods.  I don't really believe in deities who would toy with us in the same sadistic way a cat bats around a mouse, but I literally turned my face to the windward sky and swore at the deity, who I didn't believe was there.  I even said,  "I don't believe you are there or listening, but if you are then it is surely within your power to just bury me under this water or lie this boat flat.  So this would all be proof that you are sadistic and from you I would not beg for mercy.  Fuck you, I will not quit, I will not beg, I am just fine with this.  So I guess we'll just keep doing it."  Actually The only part of those words that were spoken out loud, intelligibly, were the "Fuck you ", the rest were spoken in my head.

By the time the tugs had cleared and I started my tack to the west it seemed that  I could barely make west and by the time I got to the western shore I was 4 or 5 miles from the marina entrance which was dead to windward.  The water seemed rougher over here, probably because of the long fetch.  The light had changed enough to make me think about how much more time I had before sunset.  The forecast this morning said that the wind would get stronger as the day ended.  It was time to start thinking of how and where I might be able to tie up, anchor or even run aground and give up the idea of getting back today.  (Mistake #2 was not deciding this hours earlier.)

I decided to try and use the outboard to make a run for some safety because the only headings I could get under sail would take me south toward the rocky coast of the state park on the starboard tack, or back out across the river on the port tack.  The rocky shore was a bad option, and I didn't think I had enough time to make more tacks to the east, and I wasn't sure my anchor would hold in these conditions.  I might have enough fuel to get to the marina  but running out of fuel while under way would be miserable and really limit my options.

Trying to get the boat to motor dead to windward in these big waves ran the risk of the outboard coming out of the water and then shearing the pin on the prop when it suddenly met with the resistance of the water again.  Just getting the sails down while trying to motor was really tough but it was necessary as the wind shifts would fill the sails and pull the boat off coarse.  Even with the sails down the wind was strong enough to push the boat off coarse in the gusts.  I decided to winch up the centerboard in order to get the most fuel efficiency and to keep it form being an issue if we got into shallow water.  (mistake #3)

Each time I got to a part of the shore line that might offer me some safety I reasoned that I still had fuel and could get to a haven that might be a bit better.  I was worried over the marinas all being closed up or blocked up because it was still off season.  I was also worried that in this weather I might have to come in a bit fast and with less control than I'd like, I was sure the boat would suffer, but thought that the docks might too.  I really didn't want to piss anybody off, so, I kept going. (mistake #4)

I should have just tried for any shelter I could get.  There were 4 or 5 marinas or landings that might have served and one or 2 bits of beach that I could just make a "hard landing" at.  I kept going.  I hadn't eaten or drank a thing since my morning coffee and toast.  I hadn't the means to get to my thermos of coffee that was below.  I had pissed twice right in the cockpit when I could hold it no longer.  The waves that came over the lee side flushed it all away before I could close up my pants.  I wanted to be done, off the boat.

This was supposed to be fun, and in another boat it might have been, but probably not.  I thought to myself,  I really don't need to go out when it is other than ideal anymore.  I have sailed offshore, I have been thru storms I needed to prove nothing to myself, I am getting older and it is time I should just take it easy.   I would when I get back, if I get back.  I never assume, especially today.

When I got to the county park and ramp I thought to myself I should just put in there and then walk to the marina where there was a gallon of fuel in the back of my truck.  I saw all the people along the shore and was concerned about what was sure to be an ugly landing, if not downright alarming.  I didn't know if the ramp was even open and suspected it might not be so early in the year.  Would the Ranger give me a hard time about using, possibly bashing into the docks?  The marina was just over there, not far, a few thousand feet.  Surely I wouldn't run out of fuel in that short distance, not on top of all the bad turns I had gone thru today, then I thought, but I might especially after all the bad turns I've had today.  But I kept going.(mistake #5)

There is a restaurant right before the entrance to the marina.  It is between this restaurant and the entrance that I usually start the outboard, lower sails, and make ready for docking.  This is were the fuel ran out and the motor stopped.  The marina entrance was a couple hundred feet away, directly to windward.

There isn't enough room to tack thru the marina entrance or in the marina.  With the wind as strong as it was, by the time I jumped forward and pulled the gasket off the jib, jumped back to the cockpit and hauled up the sail and got steerage, I was out of range to make a tack in any way.

I was loosing ground.  I decided to raise the main so I could get the best windward heading possible, but even so I was making leeway.  Exasperated and dejected, I resolved to beach the boat.  In thinking thru this choice and what I needed to do, I realized that the centerboard was still raised and that it had probably kept me from making to windward.  It didn't matter as I couldn't get in the entrance under sail even if I could reach it.  Besides I wanted it up if I was going to go for the shore and try and get the boat as close as possible or even on the beach.  I made a pass at the shore just to check to see if I had a decent spot to ditch.  When I came about and then tried to return to that spot I realized that I was making to much leeway to get back to the same spot.  My concern was that a half a mile to leeward was the big Power plant dock. It was high enough out of the water that I couldn't reach anything to tie up to but not so high that my mast could pass under it.  I needed to act fast or I might not get clear of it.  The dock sticks out into the river about 800 feet maybe farther.

I took two more passes at the shore to try and pick the least worst place to run the boat aground.  I decided that at this point it didn't matter any more, this pass was it or I would not be able to get clear the commercial dock should I need to.  I took note of where my lines were and my anchor bag so that when I hit I could secure the boat quickly and not loose it completely to drift down river and possibly cause harm to somebody else.  I look at the old broken pilings that are just visible above the water and thinking that this is probably going to destroy the boat, but was resigned to it.

This is when a gust pushes the boat onto it's port rail.  I am releasing the mainsheet and trying to reach the jib sheet and thinking that it is about time that the boat should start to come up when instead the gust redoubles and the boat goes the rest of the way over.

I see the sails in the water.  I see that the boat is floating with the companionway just above the new waterline.  As I am trying to find something to hold on to in order not to go in the water I look aft and notice that the lazarette, the aft locker, is also floating just above the new waterline, and I wonder if the designer had worked this out.

At this point time becomes a bit weird.  I spot my ditch bag/dry bag, while also reminding myself of the temperature of the water, while also noting that the sun is just at the horizon and I can't see detail on the shore, which is several hundred feet away.  I think to myself that I can't depend on anybody having seen the boat go over.  I look at the position and try to guess the drift of the boat.  I remember that it might be better to stay with the boat but looking into the cabin I see the port side window leaking water.  I realize I don't trust the boat to stay floating and if it doesn't I might just expire from the cold water before anybody gets to me, if any body comes for me, and it's going to be dark soon.

The decision to go in the water and try to make the shore came quickly but not with much relish.  The wind and waves were moving us quickly south and east.  I had no real idea how the cold water would affect me.  I reached into the cabin and grabbed my dry bag I noticed a float cushion and grabbed that too.

Earlier that day, before things went sideways, I had pulled a yellow float cushion out of the river.  The river is always swapping things from one owner to another.  During a gust, not long after I scored the float cushion, a 30 foot docking line got washed overboard.  It ended up being a good trade.

While looking around the boat to see what I was taking with me I thought to set the anchor to keep the boat from just going out into the channel.  The anchor gear was all the way forward in the cabin. I looked at the water coming in the port side window the thought of the boat rolling or going down while I was inside and then getting trapped. The floatation of my pfd might keep me from being able to swim down and out of the boat, this made me decide not to risk it.  I knew I didnt have much time.

 I did try to let the centerboard out in hopes of standing on it and righting the boat, but I couldn't climb up over the hull to get to the centerboard.  Even if I could it was now almost upside down and it weighs about 400 lbs., there would be little hope of moving it out of it's slot.

This is when I decided to get in the water.  I swam around the stern to look at the centerboard once more to see if there was any hope of righting the boat.  I simultaneously decided that there was no hope of this and noticed that the temperature of the water was going to be a very big factor in how long I had before my body started to fail.

On the swim back around to grab my dry bag and the float cushion my foot got slightly tangled in the back stay rigging and the main sheet.  I had to force myself to slow down, get untangled and then carefully get my stuff and start swimming.  The tangle could have been a very bad turn. I told myself that I had to be very smart about every choice, every move at this point.

As I swam away from the boat, on my back, cushion in my left arm, dry bag in my right, I focused on breathing while thinking what a strange thing to be doing, swimming away from a boat in water that is about 40'f as the sun goes down.  I didn't feel the cold of the water in an emotional way but certainly was aware of how it was affecting my body.  I noticed that my dry bag came right out of my arm even though I was trying to hold on to it.  My body was already starting to shut down.  I eventually got the bag further up my arm but was reluctant to make it to secure to me because it seemed heavier and I suspected it was filling with water.  I didn't want it to pull me under.

With my back to the shore I just kicked and kicked and kicked trying to beat the current that was working against me.  I dared a look toward shore and noted that the current seemed faster as I got closer.  As I spun around a wave washed over me and I swallowed a big gulp of the Hudson.  I felt the cold on my head as my watch cap became soaked.  I realized it was entirely possible that before I reached the shore the current would carry me south and under the dock where the land then went away to the west and the current turned eastward.  In that same instant I felt a level of fatigue set in.  I thought I might make it if I really swam harder.

I thought that if I didn't make the shore before the dock then I would probably not make shore on my own at all, that it was getting dark, it was suppose to be around freezing tonight and that I was probably not going to be able to stay conscience for very long after that.

Still kicking, I thought to myself, I'm OK with this.  No I didn't want to die right now, but then if I went while sailing while trying my hardest, then I was OK with it.  I hoped my family would be.  these thoughts relaxed me a bit and I found that I still had a bit fight left in me. I turned again to judge the distance and as I decided that my better chance might be to swim east, away from shore and try to land one of the pilings of the dock I saw the flashing lights of an emergency vehicle.  Suddenly I noticed the sound of sirens, when before all I could hear before was my own labored breathing, it was what I was focused on.  I now knew I had to try,  other people were going to put themselves at risk to help me.  I kept kicking.

A man in uniform ran out to the eastern end of the dock.  He was trying get a life ring free from it's bindings. The eastern part of the dock was the only place that I might be able to climb out of the water or where they might be able to reach down to me.  I decided to try to get there.  It was hard to make myself change direction and swim away from shore, but all the help was out there.  The officer had got the life ring free by the time I swam under the dock and he dropped it down to me.  I forced my arms to hug it and was able to rest for a moment.  I grabbed onto some ropes hanging down from the dock tested them to hold me then let go the life ring so they could move it to the other side of the dock where they could get close to water level.  I looked north and saw a rescue swimmer, in a red dry suit, drop into the water.  As they dropped the ring back into the water the rescue diver approached me.  Just a round circle of his face was exposed from his dry suit.  We both put our arms thru the life ring as it was dropped down to us, then we drifted and swam down to the dock.

The diver led me around to the eastern side where we both stood on a ledge.  Now only about thigh down was in the water.  I was no longer adrift, no longer at the mercy of the wind and tide.  I felt exhausted.  My foulies and my boots were filled with water but even if they weren't I doubt I could have lifted my self up and off that ledge.  I think three guys up top and the diver from below got me up on to the dock.  Not only could I not move my legs very well but I could barely talk.  While in the water I was able to muster an answer to the officer with the life ring and told him I was alone, nobody else on the boat, but now I could not say much of anything.

At some point I looked out and noticed that the boat was south of the dock and further away from shore, and that now it was almost under water.  Just the starboard side was visible.  As the rescue people started trying to get the heavy wet gear off of me I noticed that I was shaking violently and uncontrollably.  I had the strongest desire to walk the length of the dock to the ambulance to move my muscles to warm up, but they put me into a gurney and under blankets.  The hot packs that they placed in my hands, under my arms and on my crotch and chest felt unbelievably hot.

The boat sank that night as the SeaTow boat tried to recover it.  It was looked for the next day but didn't turn up for two days, about 12 miles down river, south of the Tappan Zee Bridge, off of Ardsley.  The mast was broken, the bow pulpit ripped from the deck but when they found it it was floating by the stern.  The only thing that I can say is missing from the cabin is a ski glove that I wear on cold days and a sponge.  Even the hatch board was in place, I had slid it in place hoping it would slow the water coming in.

I spent the ambulance ride to the hospital focused on breathing and shivering.  It was like long distance running but without a choice.    At the hospital my temperature was so low that the oral thermometer wouldn't register.  Two female nurses that looked fresh out of high school, were charged with getting my temperature reading from my back side. One told me to relax, which was funny considering that I had no control over my muscles at the time.  They got their reading and never returned.  I was at 93'f, but that was after being out of the water for a while and being heated up by the paramedics on the way over.  I was in the ER for about 4 hours.  Everything else was OK.  We just made it to the pizza shop before it closed and my wife got me a pie.  The pizza felt almost as good warming up my lap as it did going down my throat on the ride home.

After I rested most of the next day we went to the marina to get my truck.  It was a beautiful day out, but I was worried how I'd feel about seeing the river again.  I was worried about a sort of PTSD reaction.  Across the river close to the eastern shore, I could see a small white triangle.  Somebody was out having a nice sail.  I felt calm and wanted to sit by the water and watch the little boat.  It was a beautiful evening, warm air, a light wind, the calm after the storm. I thought about how different things would have been had I stayed home yesterday and then gone out today instead.

I'd be lying if I said that I don't think that this has changed my attitude.  I'd be stupid of it didn't at least make me think about what happened and what I might have done differently.  But this is not the first time in my life that thru adventuring I have had to consider possibly not finishing the day alive.  I'd love to think it is my las time of having to consider this, but none of us can know what is in our future.

I will get the boat home and see what to do next.  As soon as that is done and my few slight wounds heal, when the boat was recovered the winch for the centerboard let go and tried to slice off my finger, I will try and get out in the skiff.  Maybe that will be enough, but I suspect that if I choose not to continue on with this boat, I will find something a little bit easier to launch from a trailer and that I won't be so easily tempted to be out in during strong weather.  Maybe I'll just get WANEESHEE back in the water.  She would have handled all this much better and I probably would have been content to just drop the hook and ride out a rough night.  But I am sure that I will be happily back out on the water soon.

I must say thanks to all those people who helped me.  I am not proud or happy about having to put these people who risk their lives on our behalf, further into harms way, especially just while trying to have a little fun.  They were all very helpful and comforting.  Even if I had gotten to shore I don't know how great the affects of hypothermia would have incapacitated me, greatly I suspect and I may not have been able to get to help.  So those people did save me and I am grateful.  I hope to never cause them to flip on their flashing lights and sound their sirens,  to dodge thru traffic in order to come to my aid.  Thank you, and again, Thank you.

The Right Rite of Spring

Spring sprung yesterday, and magically, or maybe not, I got to sail yesterday too.  The ice had been clearing over the past 4 days or so and I have been watching and waiting for the moment that seemed right to go down to the docks and restore the outboard to it's proper place on the stern of the boat.  Yesterday was warm but rather breezy and I wasn't sure that I'd do much more than get the boat set up by putting the motor back on and checking out all the rigging.
The wind was out of the west and gusty and that meant that I could just beam reach up and down the river, hugging the eastern shore to get some shelter from the land.  But this always means that the gusty shifts are stronger as they are affected by the land features.  Using just the staysail as the jib we probably averaged 4 knots the entire time and only once got the rail close to the water.  Mostly it was just nice sailing, with a cool wind, but a warm sun.
It was about 3 months without sailing, almost literally the whole of winter, to the day.  I always get a little nervous about beginning to get sailing again after being away for so long.  Mostly it is because of having to negotiate the marina, which is a tight space and has to be done under power of the motor.  Sailboats are not designed to be the best under motor power, but this little boat is better than the Bristol.  I think it has to do with the Venture being lower in the water, it has much less freeboard, and having no canvas dodger to catch the breeze and be blown sideways.  If the Bristol where a heavier boat it might be a bit less affected by cross winds and such when under power, but it weighs in at a light 6600 pounds.
Another large difference in the ease of handling the Venture is the placement of the outboard motor.  It being on the transom puts it next to the rudder, instead of behind it, as on the Bristol.  When the prop is behind the rudder steering in reverse, as one does when leaving a berth, is very difficult.  The wash from the prop pushes the rudder over hard and makes subtle steering almost impossible.  If the motor was steerable on the Bristol, which it is not due to it being in a well instead of accessible like the transom hung position on the Venture, then the tiller could be made fast and the steering could be done with the outboard.
I have about 25 more days left at the marina under my current contract.  I have to decide wether or not to try to purchase a slip for the summer.  The price is more than I really think is reasonable but I do benefit so much from having a boat in the water and ready to go.  I'd have to sail 25 days a month for the entire season to equal the cost of just launching at the ramp when I want to sail.  I'd like to be sailing that much but I don't think it will happen.
I do believe I would sail more by having the boat in the slip and ready rather than having to hook up the trailer, drive to the launch, step the mast and rig the boat, & launch, all before I get to sail each time.  There is also the benefit of being able to just go to the boat, even just to sit and be on the water that makes the marina an attractive idea.
According to the calendar, Spring has begun, and according to my boating meter, Spring has begun.  It was a happy coincidence.

Frozen messing about

After a week of snowy days and frigid nights
down below everything was dry and cozy-ish.

Simply messing about in small boats is usually enough to keep me happy.  Oddly enough, two days ago, when I was doing just that, messing about that is, and it was beginning to snow again, I was pretty happy.  The gray sky and the wind and not much in the way of fresh water but quite a bit of snow and ice, all made me happy because I  was at the little boat, even though we wouldn't be sailing.  The docks were a bit tricky to negotiate as the snow was almost 2 foot high and rounded on top, giving one the feeling that I was going to slip right over and into the water, er, ah, I guess I mean onto the ice.  I reasoned that even if I did fall off the dock I'd probably not go thru the ice as it was pretty thick.  Any other reasoning just made me uncomfortable.

After shoveling the snow off the boat it rose up about an inch on it's lines.  The snow was wet, heavy and icy.  From the cockpit I could see the few other boats in the basin and many others on the hard.  I could hear the clanking of halyards against aluminum masts from the boats who's owners weren't considerate enough to cat off their lines.  I could see a few sea gulls gliding on the wind and one bald eagle on an ice floe out on the river.

Even though I was only sitting on a boat that wasn't going anywhere soon, I was quite a bit happier to be floating, on a boat, my boat, a boat that I hope within a month will be sailing thru not so frozen water.  That was enough to make the snow blowing down my collar not so cold or uncomfortable, but really just a bit silly.  Sometimes just sitting and daydreaming about things I am pretty sure will come, is enough.  For now it has to be because our world here is still frozen and buried in snow and ice.