Results of sea trial for Cape Dory 25 and Navik windvane...
Posted: Thu Jun 15, 2006 9:00 am
Near the end of may I took the CD-25 "Spring Gail" out on a short sea trial in the Gulf of Mexico. Weather window was favorable. The purpose was to check out the installation of a Navik windvane as well as other systems newly installed or repaired. I decided to do this solo as it would be only a 3 or 4 day run, out 40 to 50, down a hundred or so and back into Galveston Bay.
Although the weather was good the winds were predictably on 'on the nose' all the way out and down the coast, mostly 10-15 knts with a few hours offshore at 20, all in all perfect conditions with seas running 3-5ft and occassionally a 2ft wind wave atop those. Progress was ~3knts over the bottom with 4.5 on the water on each tack. Very good for a 25' boat with only about 21' waterline at 15 degrees heel. Sails were full main and 100% jib the entire trip.
The eboat exceeded exceeded expectations in the open water. The Navik was very solid in holding a line. Two main issues that require correctoin(as far as I am concerned) did appear with the Navik. The most serious was a tendency for the trim-tab on the oar to jump its pin/roller where it exited from the main tube just above the oar. The problem occured whenever an extreme condition(a condition out of the norm for that setting) occured and the oar would swing to its maximum during the course correction; this would exceed the tolerance and the pin/roller would jump out of the 'hoop'. When this occured the oar would then remain in the far outside position and since it was a fair percentage in size to the main rudder caused difficulty when trying to bring the boat back under control manually. A fairly simple fix was devised but would require doing it after removing the vane and having access to proper tools(an extended pin with aa cotter and washer at the botom which exceeds the width of the 'hoop'.
The second problem, not nearly so vexing, was the difficulty in turning the correction knob on the vane itself. It is plastic, small, knurled and is quite snug. Access could be had only by getting onto the motor well hatch cover and hanging on with one hand while turning the knob with the other, all while avoiding the backstay and the windvane control lines...the added problem of wet fingers made grasping a chore at best. A couple of possibilities for correct came ot mind, but again not ones that were easily attained at sea.
Other problems, all minor that appeared were the expected 'springing' of a couple of the seals on the portlights, the hard sloshing in the forward water tank caused by the beating into the wind caused it to spring leaks on its too large cover. And the side of the navigation table next to the icebox at the companionway was easily removed when grabbed during an unexpectedly large lurch of the boat.
A rather nasty case of diarhea cropped up on the second day, probably from some very questionable 'junk' food I snuck onboard.
By the end of the second day out I decided that the list was sufficient and the weather window was probably going to close in two or three days and the decision was made to return to port. Doing so put me on a broad reach, almost a training run and the boat registered a consistent 6.1 knts all the way back with a faster spurts near the end when the swells had increased. On of the most pleasant sailing experiences in years. Although the Navik did not hold as tight a course downwind it never exceeded more thna 20 or so degrees yawing except when when heeled by a compound wave made up of the main and its reflection, that is just conjecture though. Point being that it was entirely acceptable performance.
The one problem with returning when I did was that the arrival would put me into the Galveston jetties around 3AM or so. Sleeping had been done in one and two hour blocks, one hour when near the oil rigs and buoys and two hours when out beyond shipping and junk. It proved adequate and no exhaustion nor even excessive tiredness was noted. But when the turn was made the course was set to a direct line to the entrance, partially dictated by the direction of the winds, and that set me in quite close inshore 10-12 miles as I neared the jetties; which inturn meant little time for rest.
At about 5 or so miles out from the channel I took manual control of the tiller and decided to cut in about a 1/2 mile or so out from the end of the jetty between buoys 5a and 5 instead of my usual more conservative approach between 3 and 5 buoys. Just as I was about to make the last approach correction and while just a 1/2 mile or so off one of the tiller lines of the windvane came unloose and allowed the oar to swing violently to one side, jumping the cursed pin and causing difficulty in contolling the rudder. (note when disengaged I found it necessary to tie off the tiller lines to cleats such that the windvane oar remained verticle and centered when not in use).
With winds around 15kts and a good following swell I decided to reduce power, I dropped the jib, but the halyard hung up tight about halfway down. So I released the main and more or less hove-to and went slowly forward, after about 10-15minutes of cursing and tugging I finally secured the jib sufficiently and went back to deal with the windvane. The windvane ate up 5 minutes or so, but I finally got back on the tiller, sheeted in the main and within 45 seconds found myself literally smashing onto the nearly submerges granite blocks of the Galveston Bay South jetty, about 1000 ft from the very end. The wind and swell had carried me the half mile during my 'fix the problem' efforts.
Three hours later I was lifted(with some interesting effort) into a USCG helicopter via an enlarged french-fry basket. The view of ones boat from a hundred feet or so above while illuminated by a large search-light would probably considered a rather unique experience, one to be savored...except when the boat is on its side and being smashed on granite rocks by a rising tide. The boat was lost.
Epiloque: The cause of the disaster was the almost to trite to mention usual one of fatique brought on by a bad decision which caused one further bad decision. There was no earthly reason that I could not have simply turned out to sea, rested and came in later the next day on an incoming tide. But the lure of making an anchorage just 4 miles or so further on over-rode good sense and the piper was paid in full. No allowance was made for contigencies which are sure to occur at night on approaching a harbor, obstinance coupled with some fatigue worked hand in glove.
The second possibility for the cause (and I am sure as time goes on that this will become the favored one) is that on the second day out I took the liberty of running about on the boat clad only in shorts, something not to be envisioned consciously. I figure Neptune took a gander, concluded that one of his minions was in trouble, i.e. a very rare hairless albino walrus had become entrapped in a plastic container and needed freeing. That's my theory and I'm sticking to it!
No there was no insurance, so it will be awhile before I am afloat once again, but float I will.
Didereaux
Although the weather was good the winds were predictably on 'on the nose' all the way out and down the coast, mostly 10-15 knts with a few hours offshore at 20, all in all perfect conditions with seas running 3-5ft and occassionally a 2ft wind wave atop those. Progress was ~3knts over the bottom with 4.5 on the water on each tack. Very good for a 25' boat with only about 21' waterline at 15 degrees heel. Sails were full main and 100% jib the entire trip.
The eboat exceeded exceeded expectations in the open water. The Navik was very solid in holding a line. Two main issues that require correctoin(as far as I am concerned) did appear with the Navik. The most serious was a tendency for the trim-tab on the oar to jump its pin/roller where it exited from the main tube just above the oar. The problem occured whenever an extreme condition(a condition out of the norm for that setting) occured and the oar would swing to its maximum during the course correction; this would exceed the tolerance and the pin/roller would jump out of the 'hoop'. When this occured the oar would then remain in the far outside position and since it was a fair percentage in size to the main rudder caused difficulty when trying to bring the boat back under control manually. A fairly simple fix was devised but would require doing it after removing the vane and having access to proper tools(an extended pin with aa cotter and washer at the botom which exceeds the width of the 'hoop'.
The second problem, not nearly so vexing, was the difficulty in turning the correction knob on the vane itself. It is plastic, small, knurled and is quite snug. Access could be had only by getting onto the motor well hatch cover and hanging on with one hand while turning the knob with the other, all while avoiding the backstay and the windvane control lines...the added problem of wet fingers made grasping a chore at best. A couple of possibilities for correct came ot mind, but again not ones that were easily attained at sea.
Other problems, all minor that appeared were the expected 'springing' of a couple of the seals on the portlights, the hard sloshing in the forward water tank caused by the beating into the wind caused it to spring leaks on its too large cover. And the side of the navigation table next to the icebox at the companionway was easily removed when grabbed during an unexpectedly large lurch of the boat.
A rather nasty case of diarhea cropped up on the second day, probably from some very questionable 'junk' food I snuck onboard.
By the end of the second day out I decided that the list was sufficient and the weather window was probably going to close in two or three days and the decision was made to return to port. Doing so put me on a broad reach, almost a training run and the boat registered a consistent 6.1 knts all the way back with a faster spurts near the end when the swells had increased. On of the most pleasant sailing experiences in years. Although the Navik did not hold as tight a course downwind it never exceeded more thna 20 or so degrees yawing except when when heeled by a compound wave made up of the main and its reflection, that is just conjecture though. Point being that it was entirely acceptable performance.
The one problem with returning when I did was that the arrival would put me into the Galveston jetties around 3AM or so. Sleeping had been done in one and two hour blocks, one hour when near the oil rigs and buoys and two hours when out beyond shipping and junk. It proved adequate and no exhaustion nor even excessive tiredness was noted. But when the turn was made the course was set to a direct line to the entrance, partially dictated by the direction of the winds, and that set me in quite close inshore 10-12 miles as I neared the jetties; which inturn meant little time for rest.
At about 5 or so miles out from the channel I took manual control of the tiller and decided to cut in about a 1/2 mile or so out from the end of the jetty between buoys 5a and 5 instead of my usual more conservative approach between 3 and 5 buoys. Just as I was about to make the last approach correction and while just a 1/2 mile or so off one of the tiller lines of the windvane came unloose and allowed the oar to swing violently to one side, jumping the cursed pin and causing difficulty in contolling the rudder. (note when disengaged I found it necessary to tie off the tiller lines to cleats such that the windvane oar remained verticle and centered when not in use).
With winds around 15kts and a good following swell I decided to reduce power, I dropped the jib, but the halyard hung up tight about halfway down. So I released the main and more or less hove-to and went slowly forward, after about 10-15minutes of cursing and tugging I finally secured the jib sufficiently and went back to deal with the windvane. The windvane ate up 5 minutes or so, but I finally got back on the tiller, sheeted in the main and within 45 seconds found myself literally smashing onto the nearly submerges granite blocks of the Galveston Bay South jetty, about 1000 ft from the very end. The wind and swell had carried me the half mile during my 'fix the problem' efforts.
Three hours later I was lifted(with some interesting effort) into a USCG helicopter via an enlarged french-fry basket. The view of ones boat from a hundred feet or so above while illuminated by a large search-light would probably considered a rather unique experience, one to be savored...except when the boat is on its side and being smashed on granite rocks by a rising tide. The boat was lost.
Epiloque: The cause of the disaster was the almost to trite to mention usual one of fatique brought on by a bad decision which caused one further bad decision. There was no earthly reason that I could not have simply turned out to sea, rested and came in later the next day on an incoming tide. But the lure of making an anchorage just 4 miles or so further on over-rode good sense and the piper was paid in full. No allowance was made for contigencies which are sure to occur at night on approaching a harbor, obstinance coupled with some fatigue worked hand in glove.
The second possibility for the cause (and I am sure as time goes on that this will become the favored one) is that on the second day out I took the liberty of running about on the boat clad only in shorts, something not to be envisioned consciously. I figure Neptune took a gander, concluded that one of his minions was in trouble, i.e. a very rare hairless albino walrus had become entrapped in a plastic container and needed freeing. That's my theory and I'm sticking to it!
No there was no insurance, so it will be awhile before I am afloat once again, but float I will.
Didereaux