Ok probably not the biggest bonehead move but one I can admitt to , on one particular trip down the ICW from Daytona to West Palm the Admiral and I had pushed ourselves way further than we should . If we had had the good sense we where born with we would have gunkholed at Ft Pierce after such a long day/night/and now wee wee hours of the morning. We where now in the broad strech of ICW between FT Pierce and Stewart (thats Florida FYI)and a squall came up . The sea had turned from glass to 3ft chop and we where in no shape to continue so we tryed to set the anchor. Not a chance, she was not going to hold for the life of us . We tryed to set that thing for almost an hour to no avail . So on we pressed till we came to a rather small dock set by a fuel dock and condo (interesting set up)anyhoo. To get in there you had to go thru some odd set of markers to keep you off the bottom. Negotiated that
ok (eyes bloodshot with fatigue) Admiral is on the bow with spotlight , both of us so happy its all soon going to be over . We pull in to the fuel dock and tie-off our #2 line (midships) ride up on it. The tie-off our #3(stern) Being so releived to out of the chopp ,the wind , the warm fuzzy feeling of I dont need to be awake anymore must have swept over us so quickly we neglected the bow line and the #2 had come undone(thats almost the same as improperly tied). The Admiral an I had retired to the salon to hearty measures of Mount Gay Rum until the view out the portlights started changing faster than they ought to. Oh s*%t. A mad dash scramble at full tilt back on deck .
Luckily I managed to jump on the dock and was able to receive the line from my wife before our 41ft Morgan OI pivoted on her sternline into several other boats . So we managed to secure her and wow did we ever feel stupid. Bonehead make sure shes tied-off before you hit the birth or the rum for that matter.
My biggest bone-head move (note, this was only on the third "real" time out on her) was just this last weekend. This was the first time just my girlfriend and I have been out alone, and the second time she has ever been on a sailboat. This first bone-head move was not putting sunscreen on the whiter parts of my body... made for a rough drive home... but I digress.
We sailed all day Saturday, one of those perfect days that makes it all worth it. Enough wind to move, amazing weather... cooking brats on the grill as we sail to an anchorage. I had picked out two possible places to anchor... we chose the one closer as we wanted to swim. Anchored perfectly, swam, grilled, ate... drank a glass of wine. Perfect.
Night came, wind changed... our sheltered cove became bumpy. I let out more rode, was at a 10:1 now... because there's only 6 feet of chain on the anchor, and we were in 15 to 20 knots. Anchor held... really impressed/surprised. In the morning, we left fairly early, but our destination was directly into the wind. We decided to motor instead of sail, kinda wanted to get home. I checked the fuel, and did the calculation... we had enough... so off we motored.
I watched in envy as it seems everyone was out sailing... and I wish we didn't have to get back on a schedule... but we did, so didn't have time to tack back and forth. We get about a mile away from the harbor entrance... and engine starts to stall out!!! WTF?
Whoops... guess either I didn't calculate correctly, or the gauge was off when I read it... or just plain dumb. We cut the engine, raised the genoa, and sailed to the entrance. I figured that with it being rough 2 to 4 foot waves, that was causing the fuel to slosh around enough that the engine didn't get enough. Once in the calm, we fired the engine up, she worked... we made it to the dock, and then she quit... just as we were grabbing the bow-lines off the piers.
Moral... more safety factor... and backup jerry can of fuel... and learn math better. In the end, our boat took care of us... she let us know she might run out, so we raised the sails... then she waited till we were at the dock, and grabbing the docklines before she finally quite. She's awesome.
That's why it is generally recommended that you use a third of your fuel for the outbound trip, a third for the return, and reserve a third for emergencies. Since I sail as much as possible, and hate to motor if I can avoid it... I use my small tank for the operating tank, and then have the larger tank as a reserve.
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Sailingdog Telstar 28
New England
You know what the first rule of sailing is? ...Love. You can learn all the math in the 'verse, but you take
a boat to the sea you don't love, she'll shake you off just as sure as the turning of the worlds. Love keeps
her going when she oughta fall down, tells you she's hurting 'fore she keens. Makes her a home.
—Cpt. Mal Reynolds, Serenity (edited)
If you're new to the Sailnet Forums... please read this POST.
That's why it is generally recommended that you use a third of your fuel for the outbound trip, a third for the return, and reserve a third for emergencies.
Ya... and I know that rule... its the same as with Scuba diving. I didn't intend on motoring at all... and I thought I had a decent handle on the fuel consumption rates... and thought I knew how much fuel was in the tank... and thought I had more than enough... and thought we'd be fine. Guess I should have thought about a reserve tank.
Needless to say... this will not happen again... unless I just jinxed myself. Oh well, it all turned out ok, and now only my girlfriend, myself, and the internet know how dumb I am.
Too late.. you jinxed yourself... I expect we'll hear about you running out of fuel again shortly... A fuel gauge is a good thing. So are jerry cans... having an extra five gallons of fuel never hurt.
__________________
Sailingdog Telstar 28
New England
You know what the first rule of sailing is? ...Love. You can learn all the math in the 'verse, but you take
a boat to the sea you don't love, she'll shake you off just as sure as the turning of the worlds. Love keeps
her going when she oughta fall down, tells you she's hurting 'fore she keens. Makes her a home.
—Cpt. Mal Reynolds, Serenity (edited)
If you're new to the Sailnet Forums... please read this POST.
My biggest bone-head move (note, this was only on the third "real" time out on her) was just this last weekend. This was the first time just my girlfriend and I have been out alone, and the second time she has ever been on a sailboat. This first bone-head move was not putting sunscreen on the whiter parts of my body... made for a rough drive home... but I digress.
We sailed all day Saturday, one of those perfect days that makes it all worth it. Enough wind to move, amazing weather... cooking brats on the grill as we sail to an anchorage. I had picked out two possible places to anchor... we chose the one closer as we wanted to swim. Anchored perfectly, swam, grilled, ate... drank a glass of wine. Perfect.
Night came, wind changed... our sheltered cove became bumpy. I let out more rode, was at a 10:1 now... because there's only 6 feet of chain on the anchor, and we were in 15 to 20 knots. Anchor held... really impressed/surprised. In the morning, we left fairly early, but our destination was directly into the wind. We decided to motor instead of sail, kinda wanted to get home. I checked the fuel, and did the calculation... we had enough... so off we motored.
I watched in envy as it seems everyone was out sailing... and I wish we didn't have to get back on a schedule... but we did, so didn't have time to tack back and forth. We get about a mile away from the harbor entrance... and engine starts to stall out!!! WTF?
Whoops... guess either I didn't calculate correctly, or the gauge was off when I read it... or just plain dumb. We cut the engine, raised the genoa, and sailed to the entrance. I figured that with it being rough 2 to 4 foot waves, that was causing the fuel to slosh around enough that the engine didn't get enough. Once in the calm, we fired the engine up, she worked... we made it to the dock, and then she quit... just as we were grabbing the bow-lines off the piers.
Moral... more safety factor... and backup jerry can of fuel... and learn math better. In the end, our boat took care of us... she let us know she might run out, so we raised the sails... then she waited till we were at the dock, and grabbing the docklines before she finally quite. She's awesome.
Brings to mind one of my less stellar moments. Had sailed a new to me 70s era boat down from northern Maine. The boat had and has no gas-gauge. I had done calculations in my head but they were off, as they were based roughly on consumption rates in my last boat. We ran out of gas shortly after exiting the Bourne canal and its near six knots of currrent. I had two jerry cans on the boat and should have topped it off before hitting the canal, even if it was a little close. A potential disaster narrowly escaped by dumb luck.
The tank on my OB holds 1/2 gallon of fuel. You can imagine what happened when it took us three hours to transit the Bellingham Channel against a 4 knot current with 20+ on the nose. It made for some interesting GPS tracks to be sure. Nothing like leaning over the pushpit filling the tank up in those conditions with 3-4' confused seas.
Ran out of fuel once on the old Yanmar. I think it was a little 7.5 horse.
It was the first day my Father took delivery of the boat and the Salesman told us we had plenty of fuel to motor to the harbor. Needless to say, we never ran out again as it us forever to re-prime the fuellines.
OK, it’s been a couple of weeks so I guess I can admit to this one.
We had a bone headed move a little while back.
After it was all over, we got a good laugh out of it.
No harm, No foul.
The crew and I made a mistake. Coming in after a 20 Hour sail, 6;00AM, tired and cranky. My wife and I are ready to dock. I always tell her, drop the spring line over the midship cleat, move forward and grab the bowline with your boat hook than drop that over the bow cleat. As she does this I stop the boat and after she has the spring on the cleat, I continue to back down and let prop walk nudge us gently against our padded pilling.
Well, that didn't happen. She grabbed the spring and dropped it, but it was not on the cleat. The bow started to drift out so she ran to the other side of the boat to fend off on that side. I thought we had a spring attached so I just kept the boat in reverse but nothing was happening,..... Except we were now going backwards and sort of kind of the stern was going under our finger slip. (Yes our docks are high and we have to use a boarding ladder) What the !!!! Julie what are you doing!!!??? I'm pushing off!!! What are you doing???? Why isn't the spring attached???!!!! Because you were too close on this side!!! Just get the spring on and we will be fine!
Needless to say, everything ended just fine. We were a little sideways in the slip for about two seconds. After I realized what was happening, I just put her back in gear and nudged forward so she could cleat the spring, which was simply lying on the deck.
Oh well, its all good.
We were a little crabby with each other for about ten minutes. Than it all went away.
The first bonehead move involved a charter. My wife and I were chartering for the first time. The chartermaster gave us a tour of the boat, showed us where everything was, and I pointed out that the fuel gauge read empty. He laughed and said it must be broken as he had filled the tank himself just last night. I took his word for it. Out in Green Bay, motoring into the wind, and the engine sputters (a little Atomic 4). I go below, grab a wrench, and hit the metal fuel tank - the sickening echo of an empty tank hits my ears. Should never have taken his word for it (as an aside, decided to sail on and blew out the jib - turned around and it took over four hours to get someone out to the boat with extra fuel. Ugh!! Not a good way to get your wife into sailing).
The second bonehead move involved our own 36-foot boat. It was our first season with it and we were going to head out to sail. Wife and daughters manning the lines, I put the boat in reverse and started to back up. For some reason, I looked forward, saw the shore power cord start to tighten up and slammed the transmission into forward and gave it full throttle. To this day, I do not know how the boat reversed direction so quickly. I'm sure I came within a foot of yanking the electrical box off the dock. The line was completely taunt and the electrical pedestal was just slightly bending when the boat began to move forward. Yikes. You only have to do that once to know you'll never do it again.
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S/V Benediction
Beneteau 36CC
"To reach the port of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it - but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.”
- Oliver Wendel Holmes
I expect we'll hear about you running out of 
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