You Sound Like You're From London: June 2006

In case anyone was wondering, boats are costly. I really don't want to complain, but at the same time I want to lay down some numbers so that if you ever think about buying a boat of your own, you will have an idea of what you are getting yourself into.

First off, when I bought Madeline & Nine, she was (and still is) bare bones. The inside was dirty, it was missing a lot of parts, and she had a few cracks. All together an old boat. There was also some stains from what appeared to be water damage. Yesterday I went to sail and I was greeted by a foot of water in the bottom of the boat. I was a bit surprised when I was greeted by that, but I quickly learned the cause of the water (and the cause of the previous stains): the drive shaft.

The boat used to have an inboard motor. The motor is gone, but the drive shaft and propeller are still there. When I hired someone to clean the bottom of the boat, he cleaned the propeller, and in doing so, rotated the shaft. The rotation of the shaft cracked the sealant and a leak was created.

After the guy came back to fix the leak, he looked around and discovered that all of the "seacocks" keeping the ocean out of Madeline are about to implode. He told me that they all need to be replaced and that the propellor shaft should be taken out and the space sealed to avoid further leakage.

Oh, yeah, I also need a new motor and electrical system. Nice. Real nice.

Numbers (for low end items):
Outboard motor: $1,600
Electrical system: $600
Seacocks: $250
Ouch!

I think I can do without electrical, but a motor is a must (refer to "It Could Have Been Worse, But Not Much"). I can't really avoid the seacocks either. Anything that keeps me afloat is a worthwhile investment, in my opinion.

Depending on how you look at it, the best or worst part of this story is that it is all true. Not even names have been changed to protect the innocent. It is the story of the first time I took Madeline & Nine into the ocean. It is a story of how I learned that Murphy’s Law is something to take into consideration when you decide to leave the safety of land.

Friday, 16 June. Derek and I got done with our conference in the morning. We were told earlier in the week that we would have a short day on Friday, so I had asked Derek to help me sail from Keehi Harbor, where I am illegally occupying a slip, to Ala Wai Harbor where I could be legal. He agreed and I told him that the actual time on the water would be about one hour.

We got to Keehi and I went to the office to tell them my float plan. Basically, I was just going to Ala Wai and would return to Keehi by car later in the afternoon to pay my bill. Ala Wai Harbor is only four miles, as the crow flies, from Keehi. When I was in the office I called Ala Wai to tell them that I was on my way. When I said that I expected to be there in an hour, everyone laughed. That was a bad sign.

This whole story could have ended before we even untied from the pier. I could have stopped before I even began. Derek and I were rigging the boat and I realized that I had brought the genoa, and not the jib (the genoa requires special equipment to use, which I don’t have. It is possible to sail without the jib, which is the sail in the bow of the boat, but it is not recommended). I was a bit confused. Did the sail bag have the wrong sail in it? Nope. It clearly stated GENOA in 5” letters on the bag. I just wasn’t paying attention that morning when I grabbed it off the lanai. Nice moves. It was at this point that I had to make the first decision that would make the rest of the day unravel in front of me. Do I take an hour to go back to the apartment for the jib, or do I sail with just the main sail? Derek, with a truly offensive mindset, said, “We’re committed.” Meaning: we press on, without the jib. I said “ok.”

At this point I should point out that I have only been sailing for two months. Also, I had never been in the ocean, only Kaneohe Bay. My boat has no motor, only sail power. Derek had even less experience than me, he sailed with us in K-Bay a few times. We had no supply of food or water because the trip was supposed to only take an hour. I only had “slippers,” which is Hawaiian for flip-flops. My boat had no lights, VHF radio, or noise making device, and the bottom had so much growth on it that it barely moved. In fact, after we set off, I said to Derek, “if anything bad happens, we’re screwed.” We both laughed.

Being committed to getting to Ala Wai, we pushed out of the slip. The wind, being stronger than mere mortals, pushed the stern (back) of the boat in the exact opposite direction that we wanted it to go. Derek tried to hold us, but the rope slipped from his hand. The boat was now sailing backwards, Derek was still on the dock, and I was hanging over the side trying to keep from crashing into the other boats in the slips. I was having limited success. Derek did make it into the boat by climbing over the boats I was fending off and jumping into Madeline & Nine at the last second. From there we had to turn the bow 180 degrees. We tried, but we only made it 90 degrees before the wind grabbed the sail and pushed us into a maze of concrete pylons. We had no choice, we tried sailing through them. We did make it through the field of pylons, but not before we ran into two of them and made two large gouges in the side of the boat. So it goes. We were still floating.

The next 3 hours weren’t all that exciting. We basically figured out that the rudder barely worked and that we had to head out to sea in order to make any forward movement. Even then, we only made two knots. That’s slower than walking speed on land. It seemed more like we were moving backwards than anything. At any rate, after a while I figured out that we were two miles off shore and we weren’t going to make it to Ala Wai Harbor before it closed. I called off the attempt and decided to sail back to Keehi. In hindsight, that was a bad idea. Even if Ala Wai was closed, I still could have tied my boat up and come back in the morning to let them know that I was there. I wasn’t thinking straight and Derek was passed out below, so I didn’t have him to tell me how bad my idea was. In case you are keeping track, that is two bad decisions that I made without even being under duress: 1. sail without a jib 2. return to the start when we were so close to mission completion.

The real excitement started when we tried to come back into Keehi Harbor. The channel is narrow and long, there is coral on either side of the buoys, and the current is strong. Even if the wind conditions were ideal, it would have been tough sailing. As it was, we only had one sail and the rudder didn’t work very well. On top of that, we were facing the wind dead on. In sailing, that is called “being in irons.” Basically it means that you can’t go anywhere. You have to offset the headwind by at least 15 degrees to get any movement whatsoever. In order to compensate for the head wind, sailors must tack (zig-zag back and forth) in order to reach their eventual goal straight ahead of them.

So that you can picture the following dilemma, here is a short word picture of the harbor: the coral was on both sides, the channel was about 40 meters wide and 800 meters long. The current was pushing us left and the wind was pouring in directly from the channel, straight ahead.

With that in mind, we spent about an hour making approaches in the channel and would have to wave off because it was too narrow to tack effectively. Finally we decided to cut it as close to the coral on the left side as we could before tacking. We thought that might give us the needed distance to actually make forward momentum against the currents and wind. Nope. The rudder decided not to cooperate. As we got nearer and nearer to the coral, we tried turning to starboard (right). Nothing happened. We kept on it, with no luck. Finally, I made the call to jibe to port (turn against the wind to the left). By then it was already too late. All the jibing did was effectively make it so that the bow (front) was pointed directly into the coral. We ended up about 20 meters into it before the grinding of the keel stopped our forward movement. We were stuck.

The next three hours were stressful. I tried throwing out the anchor and pulling our bow around to face the channel once more, but boats on coral are heavy. I tried using the rocking of the waves to pull in some line, tie off, and wait for the next sway to loosen up the line some more. This worked to a certain degree, but inches at a time. No only that, but in order to get the anchor to catch I had to manually plant it. That meant walking on coral with nothing but flip-flops that didn’t want to stay on my feet. That was a bad idea, seeing as my feet got cut up and I was bleeding in the water. Based on my handy Surfing Map of Oahu, the area I was in was described as being “sharky.” I am happy to report that I overcame fear by leaving the boat and entering the water. I was stomping around out there and did what I had to do, but I wasted no time getting back in the boat when the anchor was planted.

Eventually the Coast Guard came, but they aren’t allowed to pull boats. They just hung out and asked other boaters to help us. A man in a John boat came out to get us. The combination of the incoming tide, using the anchor to pull the boat around, and the John boat, eventually freed the boat. As we were getting pulled free, the boat hit something big and I ended up getting knocked off the boat (and almost lost my watch). Luckily for me I was prepared and had put on a life jacket just before that. Getting knocked off the boat wasn't that bad. At that point, I was pretty indifferent (also known as "internal" in certain circles). It was getting dark, I hadn’t eaten anything since my breakfast granola bar, I was a bit fatigued from trying to pull in the boat, and I had been in the sun for 9 hours with no water. It was a long day and not quite over.

We eventually made it back to the slip, but not until the guy pulling us ran out of gas, we almost hit another reef, and the Coast Guard boarded my boat and found out the only safety equipment I had was life jackets.

I am still illegally occupying space at Keehi. My situation there is unchanged. I did, however, learn some important lessons. First and foremost: be prepared. The ocean is no joke. Drinking water, safety equipment, sails, and a motor are a must for sailing. Secondly, I learned that boats are really expensive. I don’t even want to think about how much this is going to cost me in the long run. The only thing that makes it ok is the fact that I really do enjoy sailing and I needed a hobby to prevent me from getting home from work every night and just sitting on the internet until I go to bed. That’s not what I want for my time here in Hawaii.

It was a pretty painful Friday for me; however, the optimist in me can focus on one thing: Learning Occurred. If you can at least say that, it wasn’t all a loss. Right?