All posts by Noel Swanson

S/C-3 Catamaran, Prout Snowgoose

S/C-3

Catamaran, Prout Snowgoose

37' x 16' x 6 Tons

12-Ft. Dia. Sea Anchor

Force 9 Conditions

 

File S/C-2, obtained from William E. Masters, Columbus OH. - Vessel name Rhayader, Snowgoose catamaran, designed by Prout, LOA 37' x Beam 16' x Draft 2'6" x 6 Tons - Sea anchor: 12-ft. Diameter Para-Tech on 300' x 3/8" nylon three strand tether and bridle arms of 12' each, with 5/8" galvanized swivel - Full trip line - Deployed in a whole gale in the Bay of Biscay, and also in a low system near the Bahamas with winds of 35-60 knots and seas of 20-30 feet. - Vessel's bow yawed 10° - Drift was estimated to be 12 n.m. during 66 hours at sea anchor.

Rhayader, a handsome 37-ft. "Snowgoose" designed and built by the Prout brothers, was purchased in England and sailed across the Atlantic in April 1987. The owner, William Masters, used a 12-ft. diameter Para-Tech sea anchor in a gale in the infamous Bay of Biscay. Winds were then sustained at 45 knots, gusting to 60. The sea anchor was used again about a year later when Rhayader ran into a low system stalled off Bermuda. When a low system gets stalled for an extended period of time, even if it is only packing thirty knot winds it will eventually begins to generate huge waves and swells. On the DDDB form that Masters sent back he indicated that some of the combined seas were higher than 30 ft. On this second occasion Rhayader was tethered to the sea anchor for 66 hours. Transcript:

During the 66 hour period, the seas and wind averaged 040° True. Our drift was 262° True, probably tidal set onto the Bahamas Banks. Also, in April of '87 while sailing to the Canary Islands from England, we deployed the para-anchor off the Continental Shelf, depth unknown. Winds were easterly, sea from the northwest. Nasty. Seas were short and steep (200-250' crest to crest. Winds were steady 45 knots, gusts to 60 knots. Hove to the para-anchor for 22 hours. Drift was 2 n.m. west. Thanks, para-anchor, and of course the Casanovas. I wouldn't leave port without it.

S/C-2 Catamaran, Gemini 3000

S/C-2

Catamaran, Gemini 3000

30' x 14' x 3.5 Tons

24-Ft. Dia. Parachute Sea Anchor

Force 7 and 8 Conditions

 

File S/C-2, obtained from R.P. King, McCune, KS. - Vessel name King Kat, Gemini 3000 catamaran, designed by Robin Munster and Tony Smith, LOA 30' 6" x Beam 14' x Draft 4' 6" (1' 6" board up) x 3.5 Tons - Sea anchor: 24-ft. Diameter military chest reserve on 300' x 1/2" nylon three strand tether and bridle arms of 40' each, with 1/2" galvanized swivel - Full trip line - Deployed in an Atlantic gale in deep water near Flores Islands (Azores) with winds of 35-40 knots and seas of 10-15 ft. - Vessel's bow yawed 10° - Drift was reported to be minimal.

King Kat was the fifth production "Gemini" catamaran to be built by Performance Cruising, Inc. of Mayo, Maryland. It was a prototype, without the large pilot house that has since become a characteristic of the Gemini. It was purchased by Dr. and Mrs. Robert King, who sailed her to Europe in 1984, this being the first Gemini to have crossed the Atlantic - a great many more have crossed since. Your author received a letter from the Kings in 1985. The envelope had a French stamp on it. Transcript:

Dear Para-Anchors International, we received your newsletter. Since you mention testimonials, we are glad to contribute ours. We cannot equal the high drama of some of your other testimonials; but we hope we can always use our para-anchor because we choose to - not because we have to. A trans-Atlantic sailor sold us his spare para-anchor in the spring of 1984. In June, my wife and I left Tampa Bay for England in our 30' Gemini. We are both 56 years old. These synopses, mostly from the log, explain why we would not be without our para-anchor:

 

      June 19: Had rough, wet night. Winds over 30 knots, waves of showers, irregular 12 ft. waves from all directions. Autopilot out. Jib alone since 0330. Gave it up at dusk and tried para-anchor for first time. Boat swung directly toward wind, still active in the waves, but much slower, easier motion. Both slept like babies. It works!

      June 20: Woke refreshed and sailed on. Still overcast. Third day no celestial fixes. Worried about reef west of Bermuda. Set para-anchor before dark. Later saw beacon clearly. Good night's sleep (then went into Bermuda refreshed).

      July 11: Waves have been building for five days with winds usually over 30 knots. We must be running with the storm. Autopilot out again. Another day under storm jib alone. Winds today 35-38 knots steady, gusts to 45 in squalls. Para-anchor deployed 2100 hours. Boat dipping bows under breaking waves (about every 20th wave). Slept soundly for 12 hours!

      July 12: Arrived off Flores (Azores) Island about midnight. Set para-anchor to sleep until morning. Need daylight to enter the tiny, rockbound unlit harbor. Checked position with beacons. Don't think we drifted a foot in 8 hours.

      July 29: Hit by fast-moving front. Winds hit 45 with gusts up to 55. Had para-anchor out before then, however. Good evening playing scrabble.

 

We have logged 20,000 miles on King Kat including passages to the Caribbean and back, and to Europe and back. In short, the para-anchor gives us the option of taking a breather whenever we choose. It's like being able to call "time out." A para-anchor takes the fear and sweat out of passage-making.

SC2

S/C-1 Catamaran, CSK

S/C-1

Catamaran, CSK

65' x 30' x 22 Tons

28-Ft. Dia. Parachute Sea Anchor

Force 8 Conditions

 

File S/C-1, obtained from Bruce Reid, Costa Mesa, CA. - Vessel name Rose Marie, hailing port Vancouver, BC, catamaran, designed by Vince Bartalone, LOA 65' x Beam 30' x Draft 3' 3" x 22 Tons - Sea anchor: 28-ft. Diameter C-9 military class parachute on 500' x 1" nylon three strand tether and bridle arms of 60' each, with 5/8" galvanized swivel - No trip line - Deployed in gale force winds in shallow water (40 fathoms) off Point Conception, California, with winds of 40 knots and seas of 15-20 ft. - Vessel's bow yawed 5° - Drift was upwind at 2 knots, induced by current.

 

Rose Marie was on her way to Vancouver from Newport when she ran into gale force winds off Point Conception - the "Cape Horn of the Pacific." The skipper put out the 28-ft. diameter C-9 parachute when progress against headwinds began to diminish. The strong coastal current that flows northward hereabouts caused the para-anchor to tow the big catamaran upwind! Because water is some 800 times heavier than air, large sea anchors should be used with caution where there are local currents, especially in close quarters. The sea anchor will pull the boat with the current, regardless of the intensity and direction of the wind. If the current is going your way, then fine and well. If not, be warned that the sea anchor may tow your boat over a ledge, across fishing nets, a shipping lane or into other hazardous areas. Transcript:

We were conducting sea trials of our newly launched C/S/K designed catamaran. We had departed Newport Beach on 9 June 1984 with the intention of making our way north to Vancouver B.C. On the evening of June 11 we anchored at Coho, an open roadstead just southwest of Point Conception, along with six or seven fishing boats and two other cruisers. The winds were northwesterly at 28 knots, gusting to 38 knots, and the seas were about 15 ft., which continued to build during the night. By early dawn the fishing vessels all departed in the direction of Santa Barbara, along with one of the cruisers. The other cruiser, a Westsail 32, raised sail and headed out to sea. At around 5:30 am we motored out to see what the conditions were... the 2 am weather report was 35 knots gusting 45, with seas of 15-21 ft. We continued on course for about an hour and a half when the wind shifted to the north by northwest and our progress began to diminish. The Westsail 32, under sail and engine, passed ahead of us on a port tack and seemed to be taking a lot of green water. Standing on our cabin top my eye level is about 18 ft. above the waterline and in several of the troughs I could not see over the approaching wave. The 6 am report described the sea as 18-26 ft. and I am sure they were all of 18 and occasionally 26 ft.

Within one mile or so of Point Arguello, the Westsail 32 turned and ran back toward Point Conception.... Though we were not in any trouble, we decided to deploy our 28' diameter parachute and take a rest. We had covered only nine miles in about three and a half hours. My windspeed indicator averages out most of the gusts, so the peak winds are not known, but while lying to the parachute the wind rarely fell below 40 knots, and on occasion we saw 50 knots.

Standing about a mile and a half offshore, lying abeam to the sea under minimum power, we slowly deployed the parachute off the port bow, letting it stream off to weather about 30 to 40 feet. We then snubbed off the rode and watched the chute fill and come to full shape. We then fed out the rode until it was a full 500 ft. out to windward, then secured it to the bridle, in turn secured to the port and starboard bow bollards. Everything became quite peaceful. We took reference sights on the shoreline and went below for breakfast.

About twenty minutes later, I checked on our shore marks but could not identify them. I had a feeling of confusion and together with a crew member established a new set of reference marks on shore. Fifteen minutes later I went on deck and saw that the marks had shifted unexpectedly. What had confused me on my first sights was that I had expected our drift to be to leeward. After careful calculation we estimated that we were making about 2 knots to windward! We were making about the same progress to weather as we had been making motor-sailing, however, with everything shut down life had become so peaceful we had to refer to the windspeed indicator to verify the winds had not decreased and in fact had increased slightly.

After about two hours we decided to practice picking up the parachute and attempted a hand over hand retrieval. A bit of foolishness. We then cast off the rode and began to motor up on the trip line float. Again another bit of foolishness. The float's relationship to the parachute was impossible to determine and in short order we had the parachute around a prop. After recovering all the rode and what we could of the parachute, we sailed off back around Point Conception. So far as we could determine, our cat has never shown any tendency to sail about while laying to a parachute (on 500 ft. scope). Whatever movement there may be is within a five degree arc. If the movement is in fact greater than that it is very difficult to identify it from the other motions, created by the sea state.

All my parachute retrievals since this event have been by a polypropylene trip line, however I find even with the help of various crew members recovering a chute on 500 feet of rode is always work, even when conditions are less hectic. So far as I am concerned, getting to port ahead of a storm is the best tactic. But if that is impractical, lying to a parachute on a bridle, head-to-wind, or even with the sea quartering, is by far the safest and least wearing storm tactic I have tried to date.

D/T-10 Trimaran, Newick

SVALD/T-10

Trimaran, Newick

40' x 28' x 3 Tons

36" Dia. Galerider

Force 8-9 Condition

 

File D/T-10, obtained from Deborah Druan, Farmingham, MA. - Vessel name Greenwich Propane, hailing port Greenwich, CT, ocean racing trimaran designed by Richard Newick, LOA 40' x Beam 28' x Draft 5' 6" (2' 6" board up) x 3 Tons - Drogue: 36" Diameter Galerider on 250' x 5/8" nylon braid rode - No bridle - 5/8" Stainless steel swivel - Deployed in a gale in deep water about 400 miles NE of the Azores with winds of 40-45 knots and seas of 18 ft. - Vessel's stern yawed 10° - Speed was reduced to about 3 knots during 10 hours of deployment.

Debbie Druan is the United States' foremost female multihull skipper - America's Florence Arthaud. She has won numerous first-to-finish trophies to date, the latest on her Formula 40 racing trimaran, Toshiba. Doubtless she will make it to the Whitbread. Debbie is also commodore of the New England Multihull Association and has written numerous articles about ocean crossing and heavy weather tactics in the journal of the NEMA. In May 1994 she arrived in Bermuda with David Koshiol and Joe Colpit to deliver the 40-ft. Newick trimaran, Greenwich Propane, to Plymouth, England. The owner of the boat, John Barry, was to race it in the 1994 Two Star Double Handed Transatlantic Race from Plymouth to Newport. On the Horta to Plymouth leg of the crossing Debbie and crew ran into a gale. The following is a transcript of her report, appearing in the September 1994 journal of the NEMA (reproduced by permission):

The gale hit us on May 23. We were 838 n.m SW of England and 424 n.m. NE of the Azores. It was good to know about the low in advance because by noon when it started building rapidly we knew why. We went from the full main, jib, and spinnaker to just the jib, surfing at 10-12 knots down 8 ft. seas in 18-22 knots of wind. We decided to just take the main down and not deal with reefing. We weren't racing and just needed to get the boat to England in one piece and on time, so we played it conservative. By 5:00 PM as the wind and waves increased we just kept rolling in more and more jib and took the rotation out of the mast. We were still going just as fast. It was tiresome, wet and cold on watch, so we went to a 2 hours on and 4 off system. Late that night it had moderated down to 30 knots and 12 ft. waves, so we started thinking the worst was over.

The next morning we started getting hit by rain squalls and an increase to 40 knots and 18 ft waves. There wasn't much jib left out so we started wondering what we were going to do when we ran out of jib. The problem was that the boat didn't have a barometer and we had no way of telling if we were moving along with this storm, or if it was intensifying. After much discussion between the pros and cons of setting the para-anchor or the Galerider, we decided on the Galerider because it seemed out of the question to turn the boat up broadside to the 18-20 ft steep seas to set the anchor off the bow. So we pulled out the Galerider and got it ready just in case. It wasn't the high wind that concerned us but the fact that the boat just was not steering down the steep waves very well. Occasionally she would surf madly down the face of a wave, the rudder would cavitate, we'd lose control and go down a wave sideways. You only needed for this to happen once and the boat could trip over itself. As Joe had once capsized in another trimaran, he was familiar with the warning signs.

Finally, after 24 hours of hand steering down these steep seas David, who was on watch, yelled down to us "hey these suckers are getting bigger, we better do something." As another large wave slammed us sideways, you could hear the nervousness in his voice. They were over 20 ft now. We determined that we must be moving along with this system, as the wind was supposed to change direction after it had passed, and it hadn't. We needed to stop and let it pass by us. We were all worried. None of us had ever set out a drogue before. The Galerider was constructed of thick 2" webbing in a criss-cross pattern with a 3 ft diameter opening. Attached was 6 ft of 3/8 chain and a 5/8 swivel. The line was 250 ft. of 5/8" nylon braid. The blocks on the ama sterns weren't strong enough to be used for a bridle, so we used the main stern anchor cleat to secure it.

While David steered, I made sure all the line was flaked and ready to pay out of the bag in the cockpit, and Joe stood on the main transom with the drogue. He looked like he was standing over the edge of a huge cliff with 20 ft deep troughs and 250 ft to the next wave crests. Joe took a wrap around the cleat and gently dropped the Galerider off the stern: instantaneously the Galerider took hold and you felt the boat take a huge tug backward. The transom was pooped instantly as a wave overtook us. Joe paid out 150 ft of line. We waited, wondering if the anchor cleat was holding. You could see the Galerider riding the crests of the waves, so he paid out another 100 ft of line to take the strain off the cleat. Now you could see only the line riding in the waves. Soon we were surrounded by mountains of waves and they just came up, passed under the boat, and away. We were calmly and slowly going down wind at three knots.

Our first reaction was "why hadn't we put it out sooner?" Even without a bridle, the Galerider stayed centered off the stern. It only yawed back and forth a little. It was now easier to steer. For anti chafe gear we used a rag on the cleat and kept and eye on it. Ten hours later the wind and seas had moderated enough and we simply pulled the drogue back in. Joe from the stern pulled it in hand over hand, waiting for the line to go slack between waves. David tailed the end of the line on the runner winch into the cockpit.

Two days from the onset of this low we were able to put the full main back up. For the next 800 n.m. to Plymouth we'd have 2-3 days of wet, bumpy and cold conditions to one day of dry and warm.... The last 300 n.m. was a beat to weather. As we were worried about the rig we sailed the boat as conservatively as possible. We made our approach to England by the Lizards.

D/T-9 Trimaran, Shuttleworth

SHUTLWTHD/T-9

Trimaran, Shuttleworth

60' x 40' x 10 Tons

12 Knotted Warps (300' each)

Force 12 Conditions

 

File D/T-9, derived from an article by Richard B. Wilson, appearing in the October 1991 issue of SAIL MAGAZINE - Vessel name Great American (ex-Livery Dole IV, ex-Travacrest Seaway) hailing port Boston, MA, maxi ocean racing trimaran designed by John Shuttleworth, LOA 60' x Beam 40' x Draft 11' (3' board up) x 10 Tons - Drags: 12 knotted warps, 300' each (3/4" and 5/8" nylon) - Deployed in a 940 milibar storm in deep water 400 miles west of Cape Horn with sustained winds of 70 knots and breaking seas of 50' - Vessel capsized on 22 November 1990 despite the 12 long warps - Crew of two were rescued by the M/V New Zealand Pacific.

On 22 October 1990 Rich Wilson and Cape Horn veteran Steve Pettengill set sail on the 60-ft. maxi ocean racing trimaran Great American determined to break the 76-day San Francisco to Boston record set in 1853 by the clipper Northern Light. Apart from wanting to beat the record, it was also Rich Wilson's goal to heighten public awareness of the activities of the American Lung Association and to prove the viability of corporate sponsorship in sailing. Wilson is a severe asthmatic.

Sailing out of San Francisco Bay Wilson and Pettengill put "pedal to the metal" and tried to imagine their opponent, Northern Light, beginning to trail behind. Having records of Northern Light's daily runs, they had their imaginary opponent in view, so to speak, trailing behind all the way down the coast of California and then Mexico. In skirting hurricanes Trudy and Vance off Mexico, however, the lead changed hands a few times as the ghost of the 200-ft., three-masted clipper ship would overtake the trimaran, only to be later overtaken herself. Once past the equator, Wilson and Pettengill began bashing full bore into the southeast trade winds. The going was rough and took a heavy toll in equipment failures. After passing Pitcairn Island they began to line up their approach to Cape Horn - and "the mother of all storms."

It began as a low system that "exploded" (to quote the words of meteorologist Bob Rice) into a 940 milibar storm, with Great American's number written all over it. Approximately 600 miles from Cape Horn the storm said hello to Wilson and Pettengill when the trimaran broached, tripped on her big daggerboard, and Wilson was thrown violently out of his bunk. The two dazed men found that they had to raise Great American's huge daggerboard all the way up to improve steering and avoid tripping on it.

Steve Pettengill then let out five knotted warps, 300' each, slowing the boat down a little. On the next day the boat broached again with the five warps in tow. But she side-slipped smoothly - raising the board had definitely helped. Pettengill added three more 300' long knotted warps. On Wednesday morning, 21 November, the boat's barograph tracer hit rock bottom. Four additional knotted warps were then added, making a total of twelve (12) to bring the speed back down to 9 knots in 70-knot winds and 50-foot seas.

On Thanksgiving morning, some 400 miles west of Cape Horn, a graybeard swept over the entire boat (this trimaran is 60 feet long and 40 feet wide!) carrying away the two wind generators. Great American then rushed down another steep mountain. The combined drag of the twelve knotted warps were not enough to keep her properly aligned. She slewed to starboard, probably dug the port ama, heeled, and capsized. The two men, fortunately OK, immediately donned their immersion suits, activated the 406 MHz EPIRB, and resigned themselves to the business of survival. As they were sorting out the debris in the inverted main hull, "the grandfather of all waves wrenched the water-laden trimaran out of the water, spun her, and slammed her violently back down, upright again." (Quoting from Wilson's article in SAIL).

So, Great American was right side up again! But the mast and the rigging were in pieces on deck and trailing in the water. The cockpit was awash and the main hull looked like a submarine, with the winches at sea level. Everything was in shambles. Everything had broken free down below. They wondered whether they would have been better off if they had remained upside down. Somehow, in the freezing cold, they managed to sort things out and get a little hot nourishment. Meanwhile, Scott Air Force Base in Illinois had received a "hit" from the EPIRB. Additionally the ARGOS, which had gone off when the second wave righted the boat, had alerted a base in France, which alerted Atlantic Rescue. AMVER (automated merchant vessel emergency routing) then found the nearest ship to be the New Zealand Pacific. In a feat of brilliant maneuvering, Captain Dave Watt brought his 62,000 ton ship - the world's largest refrigerated container carrier - alongside the awash Great American at 3:30 am in the dark. With the 815-foot ship rolling severely, Captain Watt coordinated the throttles and bow thrusters with such precision that Rich Wilson and Steve Pettengill were able to step onto the rope ladders hung down from the cliff-like side of the ship. They were then taken inside, cared for, and taken to Vlissingen, Holland.

Three years later, Rich Wilson and his new crew mate, Bill Biewenga, set out again from San Francisco. This time Wilson accomplished his goal. On April 7, 1993, Great American II finally arrived in Boston, 69 days and 20 hours out of San Francisco, beating Northern Light's record by six days. Wilson is currently head of Ocean Challenge, an educational institution dedicated to linking classrooms all over the world with ongoing adventures. Ocean Challenge has an interesting web site that readers may wish to explore: www.sitesalive.com

D/T-8 Trimaran, Piver

LODESTARD/T-8

Trimaran, Piver

35' x 20' x 3.5 Tons

4-Ft. Dia. Conical Drogue

Force 12 Conditions

 

File D/T-8, obtained from Warren L. Thomas, Charleston, SC. - Vessel name Lady Blue Falcon, hailing port Charleston, Lodestar trimaran designed by Arthur Piver, LOA 35' x Beam 20' x Draft 2' x 3.5 Tons - Drogue: 4-ft. Diameter cone, custom-made from heavy mesh (porous) material on 250' x 5/8" nylon three strand tether, with bridle arms of 60' each and bronze swivel - Deployed in an unnamed hurricane about 300 miles north of Bermuda with sustained winds of 80 knots and breaking seas of 30 ft. and greater - Vessel's stern yawed 30° and more with the owner steering.

To quote the immortal words of K. Adlard Coles in Heavy Weather Sailing, "When the wind rises to Force 10 or more and the gray beards ride over the ocean, we arrive at totally different conditions, and for yachts it is battle for survival, as indeed it sometimes may be for big ships." In July 1990, Lady Blue Falcon, one of Arthur Piver's original "Lodestar" designs, was off the northern coast of Maine sailing to Charleston, South Carolina, when she became entwined in a cyclonic system with sustained hurricane-force winds - an unnamed, minor hurricane. What followed was five days of sheer terror for the singlehanded sailor on board, Warren Thomas. The boat was driven without mercy round all points of the compass, eventually finding herself back in Halifax, Nova Scotia.

The only drag device on board was a 4-ft. diameter cone, custom made from some sort of tightly knit, porous, nylon mesh material. Thomas deployed it off the stern on 250' of tether and a bridle with 60-ft. arms attached to the outboard sterns of the floats. The bridle would not allow the boat to be steered freely, a major disadvantage in Thomas' opinion. In the chaos that followed, Warren Thomas tried quartering the seas by bringing both bridle arms to one float. This turned out to be a bad idea - made things much worse. To compound matters, the cone would completely pull out of the water at times, allowing the boat to lurch ahead at incredible speeds. The whole experience was traumatic and Thomas' recollection of the details are hazy - "due to complete blank of mind & loss of charts & notes" (to quote Thomas). Transcript:

I used the drogue off the stern of my Piver Lodestar in a mild hurricane 300 miles north of Bermuda, approx. 360 miles east of Cape Cod. Got blown 570 miles in 5 days, running completely out of control. Drogue's bridle would NOT let me steer at high speeds of 22 knots on 2-3 minute continuous runs. (Once rode a gale in Albermorle Sound with 45-55 knots for thirteen hours. It was a walk in the park compared to this.)

Seas in excess of 25 ft. but running faster than HELL! Wave patterns rather organized but about every hour a series of oddballs would come. I could hand-steer them, except at night when I could not see them coming. All this under bare poles. I was alone, scared and just hanging on. It was the biggest horror of my life. The sea won the war! Cannot erase the fury from my mind. First time that I have ever cried like a baby, I believe just from nerves.... Eating raw Taster's Choice right out of the coffee jar.... Wind blew all around compass. Was hovering around 80, gusts exceeding 100. I knew I was going to die. Just did not know when. Mr. tough-guy did die out there. Now only a cautious, humble sailor remains. Took two years to shed the fear and exchange it for a healthy respect for the sea. Am sure I am alive today because of luck only. If I had had a para-anchor I would still have needed luck, but I would have been rested enough to appreciate it!

 

D/T-7 Trimaran, Searunner

BROWN37D/T-7

Trimaran, Searunner

37' x 22' x 7.5 Tons

Series Drogue - 120 x 5" Dia. Cones

Force 8-9 Conditions

 

File D/T-7, obtained from Philip & Marilyn Lange, Longwood, FL. - Vessel name Kuan-Yin, hailing port St. Augustine, trimaran, designed by Jim Brown, LOA 37' x Beam 22' x Draft 6' 11" (3' 6" board up) x 7.5 Tons - Drogue: Jordan series, 120 x 5" diameter cones on 200 x 3/4" & 5/8" nylon braid tether, with bridle arms of 75' each and 10' of 5/8" chain at the end of the array - Deployed in a gale in deep water about 500 miles east of the Bahamas with winds of 35-45 knots and seas of 20-30 ft. - Vessel's stern yawed 10° - Drift was 18 nm during 46 hours of deployment.

 

Kuan-Yin was en route to Virgin Gorda, British Virgin Islands, from St. Augustine, Florida, when she ran into a gale. Philip and Marilyn Lange deployed a Jordan concept series drogue consisting of 120 x 5-inch cones. The drogue was homemade, with instructions received from Donald Jordan himself. See also Marilyn Lange's technical article and illustrations on how to fabricate a series drogue with an ordinary sewing machine, appearing in the March/April 1997 issue of Multihulls Magazine (back issues available from MULTIHULLS MAGAZINE, 421 Hancock St., Quincy MA 02171 - Tel: 617-328-8181). Transcript:

This was Kuan-Yin's maiden sea passage - and first long passage for captain & mate. Our gale was never mentioned throughout its duration on HF WWV! We were not prepared in advance. Wife/mate assembled Jordan series drogue components in our center cockpit and threaded bridle through aft snatchblocks (#3 Lewmars) and around transom, while I steered to avoid broaching. (Her Lirakis harness saved her at least once.) We used 10 feet of 5/8" chain as the weight on the end of the drogue. The Jordan series drogue deployed easily, and immediately slowed us down from 8 knots to 1.6 knots under bare poles. Our strongly-built stern lifted easily and smoothly to the oncoming waves. An occasional breaking wave dumped several quarts of seawater in, around the [stern castle] window gasket. Although the rushing and pounding noises were terrific below, we were able to rest because the movement of the boat was quite regular and predictable. We set a timer to remind us to freshen the nip [let out a few inches of line to shift the wear point and minimize chafe] and wrapped towels around potential chafe points on the bridle as it led to the Anderson 40 winches mounted on either side of our stern companionway.

The pressure on the drogue line alternated rhythmically between the two arms of the bridle - the tension was surprisingly light and the bridle winches could be adjusted easily. Our Autohelm wheel was bent when our first efforts to secure the rudder with line worked loose. The cheeks of our snatch blocks took a lot of wear. It took both of us to haul in the drogue hand-over-hand. Other than one wear point on the bridle it was in perfect condition!