67) Delivery: day 8

Subject: April 28 AM Update
Sent: Apr 28, 2011 7:34 AM

Hey.  Things are well here at 33.6N 143.1W.  Definitely much cooler, so no more showers off the back of the boat.  We are making good progress toward Long Beach and are past the half way point.  Going a little north since were expecting gale conditions by noon tomorrow.  The #4 will probably get some use.  We've had the heavy #1 up the entire time.  Also have been on starboard tack almost the entire time.  Winds should be from the north, so it should speed us on our way.  Currently, we're making 050M at about 6 knots.  Had a 180 nm day yesterday and hope for more today.  We added a final waypoint to the route:  Rockbottom Brewery in Long Beach!

Subject: 28 Apr PM Update
Sent: Apr 28, 2011 5:19 PM

Winds really picked up before noon.  We went to the #4 and a reef in the mail for a while, then shook out the reef and later went to a #3 and full main.  Where doing 7 knots now.  It looks like our westerlies won't happen.  There's a big high above us giving us SE winds.  The high's moving with us, so I expect more of the same.

We found what appeared to be one of the NOAA floating weather buoys.  The weather is getting much cooler, but during the day it was very nice--cool, but warm in the sun.  Dave, who said he would never do the cooking, is making wonderful dinners.  Our ice is gone, so it's on the canned and unrefrigerated things.  Added three jugs of fuel to top off the boat fuel tank and are keeping two in reserve.  We use very little power without refrigeration and an autopilot.  Running the engine a hour per day keeps the batteries topped off.  One water tank is empty, so we figuring out how to switch to another.

Anyway, enough about sailing.  We're having a wonderful time.  A challenge, pleasure, and adventure for us all.  We're officially past the half-way point and will have grog tomorrow to celebrate.

Bill

Some kind of buoy with an antenna.

Shaking out the reef (YouTube link)


During the 2007 Transpac of which I was one of ten crew we had difficulty with accessing water in the holding tanks after the first tank ran dry.  Prior to departure for this passage I kept that in mind and that's why I looked closely at the tanks.  While at the dock I checked to make sure the foot pump at the base of the galley sink was drawing water from the tank.  Then I verified which tank.  This 3-tank system had one tube that drew from a single tank at a time instead of a 3-way valve and 3 draw tubes.  We had to spend some time analyzing this system and found out that tools were needed to undo hose clamps, take flexible tubes off fittings, rearrange the lines and then drop a tube into a tank.  At that time we figured it was doable underway.   Hahahahahahahahaha..............................  Excuse me.


Now the truth.  Nothing goes wrong until it is either rough water or dark.  That mention of gale conditions above sets the mood for what was to come.  Unfortunately, we ran a tank dry and needed to switch tanks.  We went through the process of disconnecting and re-connecting lines and then tested the result with the foot pump.  There was a problem.  While depressing the pedal water would trickle out the faucet at the galley sink.  But the pedal would not come back up.  It was stuck.  You could pull it up with some force and it would slowly come up but this was not a good thing.


We could not get water from the faucet because the foot pump situation deteriorated quickly wherein nothing would come out.  By this time the increased wind had increased the size of the waves and it got rough.  With that rough water comes no cooking and poor sleeping.  The 4-hour on and 4-hour off schedule really takes its toll in these conditions.


Prior to departure I took all the emergency water bottles and threw them under the rat holes into an isolated storage area figuring they were out of sight and would not be used.  I accessed several and handed them out to everyone and said we were on bottled water for a while; at least until the water got calm and we could re-asses the situation.


We never did remedy the problem with drawing water from the tank and gave up.  There is not a lot of interest or strength, mental and physical, to go after a mechanical problem while underway.  We all were fatigued and since we had water there was no emergency.  I finally figured that I would siphon water from the tank into a 3-gallon water jug in the galley and then we would draw from that.  When the weather gets cold and there is not much being cooked the individual need for freshwater tends to decrease.  We ended up making it to Long Beach on the small water bottle supply.

12am 4/28/11 to 12am 4/29/11 (154nm/1,261nm) 

at the helm (YouTube link) 

The overall average speed for the daylight today was in the 6 knot range with bursts of speed in the gusts under a full main and a #3 jib.  The entire afternoon had sustained boat speeds ranging from 6-9 knots with very temporary lulls producing the low 6 knot speeds.  The sea-state was steady with 2' average wind waves and our course was parallel to the wave pattern.

As sunset approached the sustained boat speeds were in the high 8 knot range.  Just before sunset the sustained boat speeds temporarily dropped into the mid 5 knot range with moisture-laden non-towering cumulonimbus clouds on the horizon.   

Going into the evening and well after sunset everything was fine.  But very late into the night the sustained boat speeds were in the 9 knot range with bursts of speed well into the teens.  I remember the winds building throughout Bill and my watch from 8pm to midnight and as is common a discussion of reefing the main came up (reducing the amount of mainsail).  It is standard practice to do sail changes and reefing procedures during watch-changes to allow the off-watch crew to get as much rest as possible.  

The other guys came up into the cockpit just before midnight and at this time it was rough.  The winds were well into the 20s, the sea state was rough causing the boat to fall off the waves and there was some light rain.  It was definitely past the time to reef.  When it is dark you can not see the waves and a combination of maintaining the heading and keeping the boat under control caused us to fall off waves.  Until we reduced sail and changed heading it was going to be rough.

It is dark, the winds were strong, the boat was actively moving on all planes, there was light rain and we started the reef process.

Bill was at the helm on port tack with the boom well out on starboard in an attempt to bleed off power (this was the usual technique as opposed to the more proper technique of reducing sail and was all too common on this passage).  The call was made to reef and Mark & Clive were brought on deck.  Mark went forward to the leading edge of the mast to pull the main down once the main halyard was released back in the cockpit.  Clive was on the starboard forward edge of the cockpit handling reef lines and I was on the port forward edge of the cockpit getting ready to handle the halyard.  Due to the design of the cockpit I had to climb over the traveler and then while on my knees I would put a few wraps of the main halyard around the winch, unload the line in the clutch by slightly winching the line in, open the clutch and lower the halyard.  Mark would then pull the main down, attach the reef cringle to a hook on the goose-neck as the new tack.  Clive would then trim the reef lines as I trimmed the halyard.

All of this had to be performed with a high-level of synchronization due to the conditions. 
All of us had been in this kind of situation before and expectations were that everyone knew what to do.  Added to the situation was that we had to yell over the noise of the wind and the boat sailing along at a very fast clip.  And, it was a dark, moonless, cloud-covered night.

The reefing process was to begin when Bill turned the boat and headed into the wind.  The boom was so far out we would not be able to quickly reef it and secure the sail with sail-ties unless we had access.  Once on a close reach we then would ease the mainsheet to reduce pressure on the mainsail and the jib would continue to power the vessel.  The helmsman must keep the boat under control during this reefing and has to use the jib as the source of power.

Here's what really happened.

The mainsail was brought closer to the center from its position well off the starboard side but the aft tip of the boom was still over the lifelines.  The traveler was hiked to starboard and the line was secured in its cam-cleat.  At the exact moment that Bill was bringing the boat head-to-wind I was getting ready to climb over the traveler to gain access to the winch.  At this moment my tether was draped across the traveler and attached to the pad-eye on the forward edge of the traveler track.  I had previously been attached lower in the cockpit but had to move it closer to the winch. 

As the boat was brought into the wind it stood up but maintained forward speed with the jib.  When I partially stood up to climb over the traveler track the boat gibed.  The boat was not supposed to gibe.  Bill lost control of the boat and allowed the boom to violently swing across the boat from the starboard side to the port side.  The traveler cam-cleat released the old, hard line which gave the boom even more momentum when it broke free (but, in hindsight the free running traveler probably caused some friction to slow the boom).  

When the boom swung across the center-line of the boat the traveler car intercepted my tether as it transited from starboard to port and drew me down by retracting the tether.  It pulled me with such force and accuracy that I was drawn completely to the deck.  I was physically forced into the port winch adjacent the traveler track striking the upper rear portion of my head on the stainless line-feeder on the winch, my left shoulder struck the coaming and the left side of my jaw may have hit something.  During all this it was lightly raining, the boat was not in control and the wind was sustained in the high teens.

I did not know what happened.  I thought Clive fell on me.  I did not know that we gibed. 

I was yelling at Clive to get off me and in reality he was pulling on me to get me free.  I was stuck and yelling.  My head was pinned against the winch and extreme pressure was on my chest from the PFD being pulled in another direction by my tether.  Clive immediately reached for me and and began pulling on me as I was pushing with both hands against the deck to try and get out of being pinned and crushed. 

The forces were too great for us to overcome and I suddenly came free when the boat gibed back.

Clive commented on my tether and I released it from my harness on my chest.

I stepped back stunned and Clive asked if I was hurt.  I said yes, that I hit my head and was hurt.  I stepped aft and sat down on port forward of the wheel.  At this time the mainsail was flogging and they then continued to reef.  I did not lose consciousness or see stars that I am aware of but immediately felt pain and disorientation.  

I put my hand on my head by sliding it under my sweatshirt hood which was under my foulie hood and touched what was new to me, a dent.  I then shined a light on my fingers and saw blood.  I stood up in front of Bill and told him I had a head injury and blood and then sat back down.  The impact broke the skin with a visible and textured dent in the skin.  

Contributing factors in my opinion are primarily the unplanned gibe and the unsecured traveler car.  The traveler line is old and hard which reduced the effectiveness of the cam cleats.  The cam cleats had also lost their spring tension and did not retain the line.  From this point on we bypassed the cam cleats and wrapped the traveler lines around the winches which was difficult and did not allow for a fair lead.     

In all the chaos the reefing was not going well so I quickly got back in the game.  Mark, yelled from forward of the mast to look!  The mainsail had torn from the leading edge to the aft edge about 8'-10' down from the head (top).  It was a clean tear completely through the sail.  It happened in the gibe when it hit the spreaders.  We only had one mainsail.  We were a thousand miles from land.

It's amazing how the brain works.  I immediately started calculating the volume of food on board, how much water we had, how much diesel fuel and burn rates, our location, the sail inventory (spinnakers and jibs), an inventory of supplies and tools and lines, quickly calculated an estimate that it would take us about 2-3 more weeks to reach CA, the better chance of getting to CA due to wind, waves & currents instead of going back to HI, repairing the main, jury-rigging another sail in its place, and then what is a head injury.

For the record, I try to be very involved in provisioning a boat for a passage and make efforts to inspect everything on board from tools and supplies to electrical and plumbing to rigging and power.  It pays off to know what's available when it all goes bad.

The call was made to drop the main and tie it to the boom and wait until sunrise to assess the situation.  I remember vividly that after seeing the torn mainsail Bill literally said, as I was closest to him, "Oh no, what are we going to do.  This is bad, this is really really bad".  That was the beginning moment of his slide into an apathetic non-leadership state.  


After the reefing was completed I stood up in front of the wheel looking aft and stated to Bill again that I was injured and a call needed to be made for medical advice.  He acknowledged and asked me what to do.  I said that I just had a head injury and I should not be consulted.  

We all had gathered in the cockpit after the boat was secure and going much slower and discussed my head injury.  We discussed a possible concussion and agreed that you were supposed to remain awake and none of us knew why.  I was very alert due to adrenalin and stated that I was going to remain in the cockpit indefinitely.  The consensus was that none of us knew what to do and a call was needed to be made to get medical advice.  

I had a lot of adrenaline in my system at that time and could not even fathom sleeping but knew that I needed to go lay down.  The top of my head hurt, my neck hurt, my jaw hurt and I had a headache.   

While still at the helm Bill asked me if he should send an e/m to Gib telling him of the events.  I said he should definitely send the e/m for his eyes only and not to broadcast any information.  He needed to know that we had no mainsail and that the arrival in Long Beach would be delayed.  He also needed to know that I had a head injury and I needed medical advice.

I remember going below soon after the incident and talking to Bill who was at the nav station with the laptop on in front of him.  He asked me again if we should tell Gib.  I said absolutely tell him everything that just happened.  I also told him to call Gib on the sat phone.  I walked away and assumed that the captain in charge of the vessel was taking the correct steps.  Apparently, he said nothing to anyone.  He did nothing. 

I learned on 5/9/11 after arriving in CA that no contact was made with Gib in the form of an e/m or sat phone call; no contact was made with the Coast Guard; no contact was made with anyone outside the vessel and no follow-through was made over the course of completing the journey; there is no record anywhere in the e/m sent from the boat to Gib or Facebook that mentions anything about the incident.

Two days later after the incident a freighter passed within 3 miles of us in daylight and that could have been the golden opportunity for a medical evacuation.

(Contributing factors hindering the research of this passage is the lack of a ship log.  The only record that I found that was generated by the captain were the pencil plots on the paper chart that were acquired from his hand-held GPS). 

The vessel should have been reefed before sunset to slow the boat down and prepare for the reduced visibility of sailing at night in strong wind, high boat speeds and the threat of rain on the horizon.  

Bill's own reasons and a primary factor in his decision making was his intent to make it to Long Beach in order to make his flight home on time.  Later in the passage we learned from him that he was concerned about losing his job from being away for so long.  The pieces added up when he started telling all of this to us and that makes sense why he consistently did not want to reef or slow the boat down.  He always went into the night with no intent of reefing.  This turned out to be a huge mistake when we went into the nights during the 2nd gale.  It becomes too dangerous to go forward in the dark in a rough sea with a violently pitching fore-deck to work on the jib.  We generally had a very difficult boat to handle in big seas at night that would regularly fall off waves or slide down them sideways.  From down below the sound of a boat sliding down a wave and heeling aggressively is one of the most scary sounds possible while on a sailboat offshore and underway.