My Boat Works

8 Responses to “Anchoring Part 23: My Real Examples and Horror Stories”

1. Jerr Says:
   December 29th, 2009 at 8:27 am

   I have been so glad of my CQR anchor so many times – One night at Cuyler Harbor at San Miguel in particular comes to mind, where we were blown completely around four times by a blow that was a constant 30+ knots, with gusts to 45 knots, from three completely different directions. At dusk, there were over two dozen boats anchored and we had one of the worst spots. By dawn, there was just us, a sixty foot Swan and a commercial fishing boat. Come to think of it, since that night, my sailing buddy John hasn’t made fun of my heavy anchoring gear.

   The CQR was particularly well-suited to this setting and I used adequate rode. I anchored my Catalina 30 sailboat, “Genevieve” in sand at forty feet with my 35# CQR, sixty feet of 3/8″ BBB chain and 300 feet of 5/8″ line. The chain was heavy enough and enough line was out to keep the anchor flat on the ground. The anchor itself is good for the sand bottom, with its weighted tip and hinge at the junction of the shank and the plow. The wind shifted between blowing down the northern entrance, down the steep western hillside and the eastern side of the bay. The wind was unrelentingly hard and the gusts pulled like crazy. Genevieve literally hunkered down as the line stretched and pulled her down against the wind. The horizontally hinged anchor was perfect because the wind was constantly shifting and this feature allowed the anchor to remain dug in while reorienting itself. With such strong wind, resetting the anchor would have been chancy at best. The spring of 300 feet of line absorbed the sudden force of the strong gusts and the chain kept the anchor from yanking up and dislodging. If I had lighter or less chain, the force of Genevieve pulling would have lifted the anchor, causing us to drag. If I had less line, Genevieve would have been pulling up at an angle too high for the chain to stay on the ground – The 300 feet of line and 60 feet of chain gave us almost the 10:1 scope ratio needed in storm conditions. Fortunately, we had almost no wind wave and no swell.

2. Jerr Says:
   December 29th, 2009 at 10:09 pm

   I survived a squall, hiding in a British Virgin Islands cay behind a substantial plateau of sand, which was what remained as the barrier reef grew outwards. The sand was at least four feet deep, over ancient coral: a great bottom and had the particular advantage of being just three feet deep. This was necessary because the charter company resisted giving me anything but a toy anchor for the 32′ Beneteau I chartered: A twenty-pound Danforth with twenty feet of 5/16″ chain and 100 feet of 1/2″ line was all I was able to scrounge from them and even that was a major upgrade from the joke they tried to leave me!
   There was plenty of warning of the squall and over forty boats crammed into the cay. Several guys came out to their foredecks on several boats to laugh at me as I drove up to the sand bank and with mask, snorkel, bucket and anchor, jumped onto the bank, walking out 75′ to bury the anchor as deeply as I could, digging with the bucket and burying the chain in a shallower trench, as well. I covered the anchor and rode as well as I could and swam back to my boat. Even though I anchored with a laughable rode and anchor, it held in the squall, with sustained wind at thirty knots and sudden gusts up to fifty knots. At the end of the two hour squall, there was only one other boat in that cay – All the others had dragged and left.
   Anchoring as I did, achieved a scope of 120′ of rode over a depth of 7′ (3′ water plus 4′ freeboard), for a ratio of 14:1. Here is why it worked:
   * Burying the anchor in a deep pit, the sand was undisturbed and harder (more stable) for the anchor to pull against
   * The chain set deeply kept the anchor from pulling up and out
   * The long scope made up for the lack of weight in the chain
   * The barrier reef broke incoming swells, which in any case were not large because the squall was brief
   * 25′ off the shallow sand bank allowed shallow wind waves forming there to dissipate in deep water before my boat and kept me upwind of larger waves in the cay
   I’m still amazed I survived that without dragging!

3. Jerr Says:
   January 5th, 2010 at 2:28 am

   One thing to keep in mind is to always anchor with an escape plan, be ever vigilant and never get trapped on a lee shore! I can’t stress this enough. A boat is generally safe at sea but never in rough weather around rocks. The captain of a vessel is responsible for all aboard and an anchor watch is part of that responsibility. Sometimes, an anchor watch may just be listening to a daily radio report or checking in by cell-phone with a reliable watch-person but it needs to be there. An idyllic, snug cove can easily be a death-trap in rough weather. A perfect example of this was at one of my favorite anchorages, Coches Prietos on Santa Cruz Island, in the Northern Channel Islands in Southern California. I woke from a nap on a lazy day to an especially clear sky and flat sea, a bit more than the day before. There was a slight heaviness in the especially still air, so in case a Santa Ana wind was brewing, I woke my friend and we frantically started putting things away to leave. We managed to leave inside of five minutes, pulling up both fore and aft anchors and by that time, the wind was blasting down the canyon at over 45 knots – To say we were awed would be an understatement. The winds topped 60 knots and blew three days, unrelentingly. There was a lively bunch at the marina, sharing stories! By the way, I let the stern anchor out first, taking in the bow anchor. This gave me the freedom of hanging on the stern anchor if there was a problem with the bow anchor and the opportunity of easily casting or even cutting the stern anchor line. A great way to cast off an anchor line is to tie a fender or bleach bottle to it: You can always retrieve it. You can not retrieve a boat that has been smashed on the rocks.

4. Jerr Says:
   January 7th, 2010 at 3:39 am

   When we gently grounded on a sandbar in a race on a 49 foot boat, a dozen of us hung on the boom and swung all the way out to careen the boat. It worked and we sailed off, being cranked back onboard by the mainsheet. That was a happy, fun boat with lots of good times and the owner is a dear friend. I wouldn’t normally suggest this but we were inside the breakwater, in summer (warm water) and the shoal, which turned into a beach that connected to the jetty, was just a couple feet from the surface, where we were dangling. If one of us would have fallen, we could have walked to the slip or had plenty of hands to help us back on board. The breeze was very light.

5. Jerr Says:
   January 18th, 2010 at 10:18 pm

   A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, I was anchored at Prisoner’s Harbor, on the north side of Santa Cruz Island, when a 50′ powerboat started dragging. In a panic, the owner dropped a stern hook and shortly after, started his engines. The stern rode wrapped around the starboard propeller, making a huge ball. By this time, I and several others headed over to help. The breeze was onshore and the boat was nearing the swell zone. While a couple of dinghies pushed the boat, I dove in and cut the stern line and unwrapped it from the prop. By the time I finished, another powerboat had her under tow and all ended happily. The owner ended up leaving without looking for his lost stern hook. With the shore so near and the boat drifting, my concern was to free the prop and keep a tragedy from occurring. There are several lessons to be learned from this:

   * I should have brought a light retrieval line and tied the stern rode to retrieve the anchor, which could have been easily saved, with very little time spent in securing it.

   * The owner should never have deployed a stern anchor when traveling astern – The loose line was begging to be caught by the propellers.

   * Whenever a diver is below, engines must be turned off. Propellers suck water fiercely into them and it’s far too risky to have an engine turning over, in neutral – Someone could accidentally move the shifter into gear, killing or maiming the diver.

   * The anchor was dragging because, as is usually the case, the entire rode and anchor was too small and the boat was anchored without enough scope.

   * A second anchor, in a V could have helped but the anchor and rode really was far too small.

   * Even with just one engine, a twin engine powerboat can be driven and maneuvered. The large added drag of the dangling stern anchor did have to be addressed but I would have powered the boat to prevent drag, while seeking assistance with the fouled prop, if that were the case. That would kept the boat from grounding danger.

   * He should have issued a pan radio alert as soon as his prop fouled and a mayday when he continued to drag. Relying on nearby boaters in that situation could have been ruinous and the Coast Guard keeps a great presence nearby.

   * A very sharp knife is a mighty useful thing to keep aboard.

   * It was gratifying to see our community come together to help and successfully, too.

   * The real culprits in this are panic and lack of skills. Fortunately, nearby mariners came to his aid before he even asked.

6. rgscpat Says:
   July 22nd, 2010 at 8:00 pm

   We also had an “anchor story” from Prisoners. While taking a bareboat class in February of 2001, we’d anchored fore and aft the night before with the boat facing north. Winds built up overnight and were blowing from the NE around 20 knots and at an angle of about 45 degrees off the bow, with wind waves about 20 inches high.

   Our original plan was to slack off the bow anchor, then back down on the stern anchor. We had a rude awakening as we found out that the 32′ boat had too much windage and far too little engine power to get us back to the stern anchor. And we didn’t have hand signals for this contingency, so we were off to the side of the stern anchor by the time I realized that the folks aft didn’t want me to let out any more scope forward.

   So, our instructor and I wound up taking turns cranking the boat back sideways to the stern anchor using our largest winch. Although not particularly dangerous, it was a royal pain in the patootie. Or at least in the arms. And, our instructor was directing some choice phrases at the boat that probably didn’t come out of the training manual!

   After retrieving the stern anchor, getting the bow anchor in wasn’t too bad, although the boat didn’t have a working winch, which made me glad to get the %%^&&*! free of Prisoners that morning.

7. rgscpat Says:
   July 22nd, 2010 at 8:02 pm

   boat didn’t have a functioning * anchor * winch up forward other than me!

8. Jerr Says:
   July 23rd, 2010 at 12:02 pm

   Thanks for your instructive story! I’ve felt your pain! I don’t think I’ll ever forget hauling my rode up from a deep water anchorage at Santa Barbara Island, with the wind building, by hand – 100# of chain and the anchor was dug in so well. I didn’t know if I could do it at one point but adrenaline works wonders.

   The lesson from your tale is to be wary of fore-and-aft anchoring. As you found out, even a slight wind-shift builds tremendous side-loads. If you are in a fore-and-aft anchorage and the wind shifts, GET OUT! Re-anchor somewhere else, where you can swing (That’s why I carry three anchors and rodes – I commonly use two and have a spare. Two is really plenty for most folks, though.). If I were in that situation, I would have buoyed my stern anchor (A fender with your boat name written on it works fine.) and retrieved it later. As I’m sure you discovered, as soon as you tripped your stern anchor, you swung quickly and yet were not able to maneuver, as the stern anchor was dragging – With that amount of scope in a tight anchorage, were at considerable risk of collision or grounding.

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