Tacking into Storm and Sunset

Tacking into Storm and Sunset

The Skipper (Tim Mehrer) (who probably hates to be called skipper) came into the passengers compartment one morning and gave us an absolutely brilliant talk on sailing, boats, and the physics of sailing. Now, I thought I understood how to sail and what did what. I was mistaken. He brought a white board and a boat model and proceeded to show us how the universe conspires to push Zodiac forward through contrary seas.

The secret is low pressure zones. We create low pressure zones with the wing shapes of the sails, and that pulls us toward our goal. Oh, and the wind also is just pushing on the flat parts. But that is only really helping us going down wind. When we want to go up wind, we need the air to suck our sails toward the low pressure zone we have created at a point that we hope is balanced between our huge sails (each pulling at a different vector) and the center of mass and center of rotation or our vessel. Ok, I made up a lot of those terms. But Hell, it was a one time 30 minute talk and that is what I remember.

Anyway, when you want to go to where the wind is coming from (and for some reason, you usually do, thank you very much Mr. Murphy), you have to approach it at angles of about 45 degrees. And each time you change your angle of attack, you bring the bow of the boat across the wind, and that is called tacking.

And when you do that, you have to, in a controlled manner, bring the sails across to the other side of the boat. This isn't too difficult as long as you can maintain a controlled rate of turn and you don't let go of any line at the wrong time.

For instance.

My sailing station is mainsail topping lifts. The topping lift is the cable coming down from the mast that holds up the boom. It literally stops the boom from crashing to the deck (and thus killing the captain, since the boom is usually right over his head). On many pleasure sail boats, there is just one topping lift. It comes from the top of the mast, and goes down to the end of the boom. The Mainsail is the triangle between the topping lift, mast, and boom.

However, on the Zodiac, The mainsail is larger than this triangle (because of the extension that the gaff-boom gives it) so you need to tighten the topping left that is on the windward side of the sail and then loosen the one on the lee side.

Topping left has the fuzzy things. Aft Stay is in the block on the right there. (The right is port, in this case)

Equally important, since the boom extends beyond the stern of the boat, you also need to use a flying aft mainstay. That is the line that runs from near the top of the main mast down to the stern and supports (stays) the mast from aft. Someone must have been doing that, but I never saw it because I was busy doing the topping lift thing.

It goes like this.

The captain tells the first mate to prepare to come about.

At about the same time he tells helm to come hard over to windward. (on the Zodiac, this means that the helmsman starts turning the wheel toward the wind. This takes a while. You turn hand over hand for many complete rotations of the ships wheel until you have brought the rudder hard over. At this point, when I was on the wheel, I said to the captain, “we are hard over, Sir”. He gave me a strange look. But he smiled. Perhaps he hasn't read “Master and Commander” enough times. Perhaps I have read it too often.)

As the boat comes up, the pressure comes off the sails. Now the boat is just coasting. In order to tack, we have to have enough headway on the boat to be able to make the 90 degree turn from one tack to the other. If we don't make the turn, the wind will start pushing on the bow of the boat (and the masts and other “windage”) and the schooner will continue to slow and eventually go backwards. This is considered non-ideal and is called (at least by Captain Aubrey) "missing stays".

Today, however, we have a good wind and are making a good pace through the seas. So the bow comes right around and we don't need to do any tricks (like backing the jib to push the bow around faster). We have two topping lift crews, one on the side that is currently providing support, one on the side that will be the support after we tack. The “new” side waits until the pressure has come completely off of the slack topping lift cable. If we tighten it up too early, we will chaff the sail. Not terrible as a one time occurrence, but those sails are expensive. Think of it as turning off the light when you leave a room. So, as soon as we have slack, we pull pull pull to get the slack rope through the blocks, then, we start to “sweat” and “tail”. The sweater is in charge of tightening the line, the tailer is in charge of making sure we don't loose any of the progress the sweater is making. He just has to take up the slack  that the sweater has gained.

Sweat and Tail on that Topping Lift !!

One of the things I love about sailing is the constant and ubiquitous demonstration of basic physics and simple machines. Here we have a huge boom, the weight of which needs to be support by a line that a single person is going to tighten. And we do that using physics. Does the sweater just pull down? Well, she could do that, but that would just put their mass into the equation, and that might not be enough (even with the 6:1 block and pulley). So instead, she pulls down and sideways. Effecting make a lever out of the line. So she pulls sideways about 3 feet. And that gains us 1 foot slack, which I tail through the belaying pin. Once we have pulled enough line (marked by a little piece of leather on the halyard) I yell “hold” and throw a figure 8 and locking not on the belaying pin. 

Done with the hold side. We look under the boom and make eye contact with the other team. They can now loosen their side. Making eye contact is a safety thing. They don't want to let loose until they are sure we are secure, because we don't want that boom coming crashing down on the deck, taking out the captain and helmsman (and helm).

Up on the bow, the jib and staysail crew are busy sheeting in the sails on the opposite side of the boat and the foresale is being secured also. We are on the other tack and starting to pick up speed. But we aren't done until we have coiled down all of the lines and prepared things for the next tack.

That done, I sit back on the high side (which we suddenly have, the breeze must be freshining) and start to look around. The wind is coming in over the starboard side. So we are on a Starboard tack. Cool. We are sailing North West along the US Canada border heading toward our evening anchorage. I look off to the south toward Orcas Island. It is sure looking dark over that way. Wind and Rain. I recall the story the captain told us about a family that went to the bottom around in this area because of a errant wind coming down off of Mount Constitution (that big hill there on Orcas, the one with the antennas). He had a nautical term for that wind. It started with a W. Now what was it....

“Prepare to Come About”.

“Helm Alee”

Woe there, we are turning faster this time. The wind is picking up even more. We go onto port tack quite smartly. Now we are HAVING FUN !! The deck has a definite slope to it now as we heel to starboard. The Captain, in his quiet way, instructs a few non-sailor passengers to come up to the high side of the schooner. It is harder to fall overboard from the high side. We are really moving now !! Everyone is laughing and there is a wild excitement in the air. Some rain drops are hitting our heads, or perhaps that is ocean spray.

She is standing straight up. The boat is slanted.

Look at those smiles. 

“Prepare to Come About”

What the hell. We just got here. Oh, we must be trying to tack into that little bay over there.

“Helm's Alee”.

We turned fast again.... and then we just stopped turning. What? Something is wrong up on the bow. Our crewman leaves us and runs up to the port jib sheets. Something got stuck. I think that stopped our turn. And the wind is blowing even harder. The rain is falling. The captain isn't liking this. This isn't good weather to be teaching a neophyte passenger-crew how to do highspeed tacking. And he knows that. He eases us back onto our previous tack and gives to order to lower the mainsail. (The captain later told us that the real thing he was concerned about was the inflatable boats that we had hanging on the side had a tendency to catch a strong wind, and he didn't want them bouncing off the ocean as the Zodiac heeled and then catch the wind and come roaring onto the deck, engine and all. Bad for the deck. And the passengers).

The Topping lift team also owns lowering the mainsail, and we couldn't get it down quickly enough for the captain. To lower the sail, you just need to belay the 100 yards of main halyard through the belay pins. Not too hard, as long as the line doesn't foul. But you need to do it in a controlled manner.

“All hands aft to furl mainsail”.

Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.

To furl the main, you get a bunch of people up standing on the boom and leaning over the gaff. The other half of the crew push the sail up to the guys on the boom and they fold it under itself. I guess this is the fist and furl stuff they talk about in Master and Commander. Anyway, after learning that we were supposed to be up on the boom, I wasn't going to be left on the deck. Why? Not sure, just a challenge. And I used to be good at climbing trees. Besides, everyone else is doing it. Turns out there are a lot of handholds. Lines and such, so I could get myself up just fine. Then it is just a few minutes to tuck the sail into itself and get the securing lines tight. Then I have to get down. I go pretty slowly getting down. Because the crew gets pissed if you step through the window glass. Of course, it probably freaks them out must having a old fat guy up on the boom. Hey, it was fun, though I certainly wasn't impressing any young women.

Now that the sails are all down and furled, the weather isn't quite so scarry. It is still windy and blowing and the rain is cold, but we are under control and roll into our little port in good form.

Oh, that was EXACTLY the right amount of excitement.

Later it quit raining and we were gifted with a truly magnificent sunset. I was in the chart house having a beer when 2 of my friends called me up on deck. There was Mount Baker in all of her glory. The setting sun was light up the moutain from above the local cloud cover. So we had the infinite horizontal dark of the ocean below, and the dark storm horizon of the sky above, perfectly framing the Snow and Rock sunlight beauty of the mountains.

Mt Baker.

Look at that neat color !!

 

Later the sun ducked under the clouds and gave us some a great yellow color surrounding scenery, a spot lit nearby island, and a day ending Rainbow.

God what a GREAT DAY.

And in case you want an expert opinion on all of this:
http://flota-navium.blogspot.com/2012/06/june-winds.html?showComment=1341375047459#c6752388961755025472

oh, and Paella on the Grill

Raising the Main.

Raising the Main.

The mainsail on Zodiac is big. It is big and heavy and it is slung between 2 telephone pole sized wood booms. All together there is 4 tons of gear that need to be hoisted 100 feet into the air. And we do it all with passenger-crew power.

My sailing station is topping lifts on the mainsail. More on those later, but since I am back there running the topping lifts anyway, when it comes time to rig for sailing, I am also on the crew that rigs the main halyards to raise the mainsail. On a gaff-rigged sail, to raise the sail you must raise the gaff-boom. This is a hefty pine pole that slides up the main mast with the mainsail slung beneath it.

Some shots of the boom and Gaff boom when the sail is furled. Note relative sizes.

That is the Gaff-boom Way up THere. And we hoisted it there.

Here is a good perspective of how large the Boom is.

Our halyards (the lines on a ship that raise and lower a sail) attach to both ends of the gaff-boom. The port halyard goes to the end away from the mast (the peak) and the starboard halyard goes to the end at the mast (the throat). They have to go up at approximately the same speed , trying to keep the gaff-boom horizontal as the sail rises.

So, first rig the halyards. This is around 50 pounds of half-inch <check the numbers> line that goes through a downhaul block, out to a snatch block and then stretches aft down the deck giving plenty of room for 8 to 10 people to line up and haul-away. That is 10 people on each halyard. I wish I had good pictures of some of this, but we were all hauling.

So all hands are called aft to raise the main. This means the first mate yells something like “All hands Aft to Raise the Main”. We all grab a line. The Mate stands by and gives commands while keeping an eye on the status of the gaff-boom.

“Ready on the Peak? You guys here are the peak. Ready?”

“Ready on the throat?” she is looking at us, “You are the throat”.

We answer that we are ready.

“Haul away, Peak and Throat.”

And we do. There is one or two intrepid people who are pulling down on the halyards right at the mast. They are down-hauling. They stand up as far as they can grab the halyard and haul down. At the same time, those of us on the deck haul with her through the blocks. One young crewman is especially energetic. She actually leaps into the air a few inches and grabs the halyard bringing her full (though small) weight to bear. Her enthusiasm would be something to watch, but we are all busy pulling on our lines in time to her exertions.

The sail is heavy. We can't lift it without some mechanical advantage. So we have a 6:1 block (pulley) system leading up the mast. So for every 6 pulls we make, we get 1 pull of height on the mast. Figure about 3 feet of line a pull. So one pull raises the sail around 6 inches. We have to raise the Throat (which is where I am pulling) around, oh, 70 feet? So, 140 good everything you got pulls? At around 1 pull a second. Man, I wish I had done the math BEFORE I picked up that line !!

I was going to say that it takes 3 to 5 minutes to raise the sail. The math bears that out, especially considering that we take a rest at about the halfway mark.

That is the Mainsail Throat Halyard laying there. 

Our 6:1 mechanical advantage on the Main.

We watched a movie last night about the last sailing vessel to round the horn (the southern tip of south america). This is the most stormy dangerous sailing place in the world. The movie is all clips shot by the sailor who is narrating the piece  <here on amazon>. It is pretty fascinating. Anyway, one of the things this old sailor talks about is how to haul on a line. He says, “Notice that these guys are not pulling on the line. They are Jerking on the line. Everything is done in jerks. That is how you get the work done. It isn't the force you bring but how fast you can bring it. Think of hammer and a nail, if you just use the hammer to push on the nail, nothing happens. You need that blow, that Jerk of the hammer. That sudden strike. That is what gets the job done.”

So I am trying that out today. I Jerk my pull as much as I can. Wow. It really works. I actually had the lady behind me comment, “wow Jon, you are pulling today”. So, last time is the charm, I say. Jerk, and Jerk, and Jerk, and Jerk, and Jerk. Only 80 more times.

The Peak goes up a lot faster than the throat (not sure why), but it has further to go, so the Mate will often call “Peak, Hold”. She doesn't ever say “Throat, Hold”, even though I am starting to feel like holding someone by the throat. Jerk, and Jerk, and Jerk. When will this Stop??? I can't feel my arms. “Just a little more”, she says. “Just a few more pulls”. When will the lies end?

Pull, and Pull, and Pull.

This is the stack of halyard we have to pull for the Peak. Oh, and that is the ball we rescued during
our man overboard drill on the second day of sailing.

“Throat, Hold. …. Stopper Knot on”.

At last. The stopper (a line that wraps around the halyard at the downhaul block and keeps the line from going backward) goes on. Our crew chief says to us, “On the count of three drop the line. Just Drop it. Don't step on it. 1 …. 2... 3... DROP”. And we do. I usually stumble a little at this point because I forget I was leaning back into the line.

“Ok,” says the Mate, “Nice shipmates will come over here and help the Peak now. Haul Away, Peak!”

Dammit. I so want to be a nice shipmate. I step into the peak line. Usually a few people are stepping away and sitting down at this point. On the first day, halfway through this second lift I got a little dizzy and had to sit down. Today, I am Jerking, god dammit. Jerk, and Jerk, and Pull, and Pull.

Does it seem like this part of the story is just going ON and ON and ON. I was trying to put you into the scene.

“Hold Peak. Stopper Knot On. On the count of 3 drop your line. 1 2 3, Drop !!”.

So, at last. We are done.

“All hands to raise the Foresail”

Oh, right. More sails. This one is much smaller, though, and it goes up a lot easier. The Staysail and Jib are handled by the foredeck crew, so I can go back and work the main.

You know what is coming now? Tacking.

Day 0: Zodiac

Schooner Zodiac Adventure.
Day 0.

I haven't even started my exciting Schooner Zodiac adventure yet and I already know several things I need to do in order to improve it for the next time. (because I can't see how I can possibly not do this again. Sort of like kissing Marianne Schumann that first time 40 years ago).

So here is the deal, this place (Bellingham) is a good deal further north than I had thought. So far north that the exit sign says “Get off here if you don't have a passport”. So the trip here was a bit longer than I had anticipated. Someone should make a software program (which I will call an "ap") that talks to some kind of global information and data “network” that would allow a person to log in to something called “giggle maps” that would tell you how far away things are. Sorry, I know that is far-fetched but I am working on one of my way out there science fiction stories. 

Anyway, I get here and find out that my hotel is cleverly hidden behind the Fred Meyer (I thought it was IN the Fred Meyer there for awhile, I mean, they do have everything) but it was just out back.

It is a nice enough place. I love how these more northern destination hotels have the windows sort of facing in at the inside pool and hot tub. I guess that really hot locations (like Phoenix) do the same. OK, so any hotels that are in locations that have the same atmospheric conditions as non-earth planets. Still, the place has a great bar (for singles over 60) and good food at the restaurant. They also had maps for me for “downtown”.

This town was originally put on the map by a long list of failures. At first, all of the land had been bought because this was going to be the “pacific end of the Railroad”. That didn't happen and the place failed. Then this guy built a coal mine. That failed. Then a fishing town. That failed. Anyway, there are a lot of nice old buildings and such left over from the failures and I guess tourists are coming here now. There is a big Train Station (never saw one of those before) and the terminal for the cruise ships to Alaska (never saw one those before either). And a fun downtown filled with young people with tattoos and guitars (Those I have seen before).

Why are all of the cute young women flirting with me? Do I still look like Bruce Willis? I have hair, Damnit !!.

Anyway, having to leave large tips aside, this is a pretty nice little town. I am amazed at the number of places selling Beads and Pottery. Seems like that is almost as popular as beer and food. I guess that is just the deal with any little artist colony. The artists keep trying to sell stuff. Or they become Gardeners and sell food to the other artists.

I arrived on Wednesday Market in Fairhaven (a district of Belingham). What a fun little spot. The usually things being sold at market, a live music performance, and children swirling in the sunshine. I had a beer and a great time.

 

Secret iPhone Shot

Was Bank. Now, Negligee store. Still have to put in money.

Doctor Who is visiting

And realized what I had done wrong.

Here is what the ultimate plan for a sailing vacation should entail:

1. make reservations at the Fairhaven Inn for the night before you trip leaves. You are a short walk to the docks where lies the Schooner Zodiac.
2. Ride the Train from Portland. It is like $80 and lets you enjoy the entire trip up. And the train station is IN BETWEEN the hotel and the Pier. A 5 minute walk in either direction. How cool is that?
3. Since you don't have a car, enjoy walking around Fairhaven and having many more beers than I allowed myself. Perhaps follow (what I assume to be the old train track now walking) trail into Belingham proper. For no good reason. Just a pretty walk, And you get to see this park.

 

 

 

I enjoyed my little walk around Fairhaven. And I dropped by the Zodiac and yelled “ahoy Zodiac” at the crew. 

 

They all wear just brown shorts and tans (well, except for the young lady. She had on white shorts). They ahoyed my back and were nice to me and assured me that I could bring my laptop. They were excited that I might be a “journalist” and have some “wine”. I had to let them down saying that I was only a computer designer and thus was carrying Whiskey.  (Updating this a few weeks later I can tell you that these guys were actually the interns. Not the normal crew. So my first vision of life aboard Zodiac was a bit skewed. Guess I didn't have to go out and buy those brown shorts at Fred Meyer after all. JNP)


Oh well. Perhaps I can teach them some MIT drinking songs.

Do you know this one?

Godiva was a lady who through Coventry did ride.

Her thought to show the countrymen her fine and tawny white hide.

The most observant man to see, an engineer of course.

Was the only one to notice that Godiva rode a horse.

OHHHHHH

We are we are we are we are

We are the Engineers.

We can we can we can we can

Demolish Forty Beers.

Drink Rum Drink Rum Drink Rum all day,

and come along with us.

For we don't give a damn, for any old man.

That don't give a damn for us.

Said the lady I've come a long long way. And I will go as far.

With the man that takes me from this steed and leads me to a Bar.

The man that took her from her horse, and lead her to a beer.

Was a bleary eyed surveyor and a drunken engineer.

I feel much better now. I wonder if I can play that on my Ukelele?