File S/M-6, obtained from Paul C. Brindley, Houston TX. - Vessel name Heaven & Hell, hailing port Houston, J-30 sloop, designed by Rod Johnstone, LOA 30' x LWL 25' x Beam 11' 6" x Draft 6' 6" x 3.75 Tons - Fin keel - Sea anchor: 9-ft. diameter BUORD on 300' x 3/4" nylon three strand rode with no swivel used - No trip line - Deployed during a storm in deep water in the Gulf of Mexico, about 120 miles Southeast of Galveston, with winds of 60 knots and combined seas of about 30' - Vessel's bow yawed about 10° - Drift was .5 -.7 knots during 4 hours at sea anchor.
This is the first file that Victor Shane documented after starting Para-Anchors International in 1981.He comments that it tends to stick in the mind, like that first high school date. It is an important file in other respects as well. The boat, a fin-keeled J-30, rode very well to the 9-ft. BUORD parachute. Up to that time conventional wisdom had it that sea anchors were useless on board so-called "modern fin-keeled sailboats." This was a turning point of sorts.
In a letter to Victor, dated 2 November 1986, Donald J. Jordan, author of widely publicized articles on capsize prevention and inventor of the series drogue wrote the following (reproduced by permission): "Dr. Brindley called and gave me a comprehensive description of his experience.... As you say, the J-30 rode very well in that type of wind and sea. This is the first well-documented instance of a modern sloop riding properly with a sea anchor from the bow."
The 9-ft. diameter BUORD pulled the bow of this yacht into 60-knot winds and 30-ft. seas in a satisfactory way. It kept it there for four hours. However, the crew had inadvertently omitted to use a swivel on the parachute terminal, and the canopy's rotation resulted in a fouled-up useless mess of parachute and kinked-up rode.
After retrieving the mess and stowing it the best they could the crew then used the boat's inboard engine to jog into the seas. Apart from a few near knock-downs, Heaven & Hell emerged from the ordeal intact. From Dr. Brindley's handwritten feedback:
The drogue [meaning sea anchor] worked well. We could have eaten soup below until it twisted shut as we had inadvertently left off the swivel. We made about .5-.7 knots sternway, checked by the Loran. It went to 4-5 knots when the chute twisted shut. I much preferred the bow into the waves.
File S/M-5, obtained from Jeremiah Nixon, St. Louis MO. - Vessel name Goodjump II, hailing port St. Louis, steel Schooner, designed by George Sutton, LOA 75' x LWL 62' x Beam 15' x Draft 6' 2" x 36 Tons - Full keel - Sea anchor: 28-ft. diameter C-9 military class parachute on 600' x 1-inch nylon three strand rode, with 5/8" galvanized swivel - No trip line - Deployed in deep water during a storm near 39° 50' N, 49° 30' W (mid-Atlantic) with winds of 60 knots and seas of 18' - Vessel's bow yawed 10° - Drift was about 18 n.m. during 18 hours at sea anchor
Goodjump II was sailing to Portugal from the U.S. east coast. The skipper, Jeremiah Nixon, had purchased a para-anchor from the author's company. It was a 28-ft. diameter C-9 military parachute, converted into a sea anchor. This parachute has been a staple of the Armed Forces for decades, and is still in use by the Air Force. You can tell a C-9 by the colors of the canopy, either red and white, or a combination of red, white, gold and olive drab. C-9s have 28 suspension lines.
Shane Victor has handled hundreds of C-9's to date, each and every time with awe and amazement. Little wonder World War II pilots used to refer to their parachutes as "silken angels." Light in weight, resilient and strong, a military parachute (not to be confused with lighter sport parachutes) embodies eighty years of development and refinement. Government contracts require that C-9 parachutes be able to negotiate dynamic loads of 5,000 lbs. without failure - they have to be test-dropped from aircraft flying at high speeds with dummies attached.
When Goodjump II ran into a storm in the middle of the Atlantic, the crew decided to put out the chute. They had some initial difficulty in getting the big canopy in the water. The wind took hold of it on deck and it was almost airborne . The crew persevered, however, and finally had the chute properly deployed on 600 feet of nylon rode. Goodjump II rounded up into the seas, her bow nicely snubbed to her parachute sea anchor in 18-ft. seas. Transcript:
The para-anchor worked perfectly, we rode nicely. Learned the hard way to deploy it from the windward side of the boat by pushing it right into the water while holding it against the side of the boat. It got loose on our first effort on the lee side and went into the air.
You asked the question of the angle and movement of our bow during the storm. I cleated the rode to the forward port cleat and as a result the bow held about 10° to the right of the wind and there was no swing from side to side that I noticed. In fact the deck was dry and there was no spray or pounding. The 600 feet of rode stretched and raised out of the water at the point of wave crest and then came back down with an easy controlled feeling.
We drank beer and ate chili during the worst and I got a solid 6 hours of sleep at a time when we had to wear a safety harness because of wind when we went forward to check on chafe.
No trip line is necessary. Just motor up to it and bring it up. These are some of the reasons why I consider this equipment the most important safety item on my boat.... I will never make an ocean passage without one on board. People must realize that ocean cruising can be safe if you go with the idea that you will go into a defensive position before the seas build too high. The flat-out philosophy of professional racers must be disregarded by the small crew cruising yachts
(Note: The problem of the wind inflating parachutes prematurely on deck can be minimized by wetting down the parachute beforehand. Nylon cloth is much more manageable and less likely to fly open in the wind when wet and heavy. The other alternative is to use a deployment bag.)
File S/M-4, obtained from Lin & Larry Pardey - Vessel name Taleisin, hailing port Victoria, B.C., cutter designed by Lyle Hess, LOA 29' 6" x LWL 27' 9" x Beam 10' 9" x Draft 5' 3" x 9 Tons - Full keel - Sea anchor: 12-ft. diameter BUORD on 250' x 5/8" dia. nylon three strand rode with Pardeys' own bridle arrangement and 1/2" galvanized swivel - No trip line - Deployed in 100 fathoms during a tropical cyclone about 100 miles off the Queensland coast, with sustained winds of 60-70 knots blowing contrary to the Australian Current, creating confused seas of 25' and greater - Drift was estimated to be about 15 n.m. during 56 hours at sea anchor.
The Pardeys are now cruising on board their new and larger boat, Taleisin. The sea anchor for Taleisin was a larger - 12-ft. diameter - BUORD parachute. On 1 November 1988, en route to Mooloolaba from Roslynne Bay (Queensland), Taleisin safely rode out a cyclonic depression off the Australian coast, hove-to the para-anchor and storm trysail, in the manner described in the previous file (S/M-3). In their latest book, Storm Tactics, Lin and Larry describe the storm as "an unseasonable typhoon rammed up against a ridge of high pressure." The wind was blowing contrary to the Australian current, near the Great Barrier Reef. Conditions were atrocious. From Storm Tactics:
We were forced to lie-to parachute anchor for over 56 hours in winds exceeding 70 knots. (Weather forecasters spoke of winds of 85 in our area). Wind blew against current in only 100 fathoms of water, creating breaking seas, which forced 400-foot freighters to heave-to. We have never before seen waves dangerous enough to stop ships. We could see two of them nearby, maneuvering to keep their bows into the seas for over 12 hours. Yet even in seas like this we were able to bring Taleisin through with the only damage limited to chafed lines, chafed nerves, and bruised bodies. Other sailors within 50 miles of us fared far worse; two lost their lives while using other tactics.
Sometime in those fifty-six hours there was a formidable jerk as "an extra strong gust and an extra steep sea combined to head the boat up and tack." This caused Lin, who was sleeping down below, without the lee cloth in place, to be thrown out of her bunk against the stove, banging up her teeth and ribs, fortunately not too badly, however. All in all, Taleisin, tough little ship, came through with flying colors. But Larry has since opted for a smaller 9-ft. diameter BUORD, which he considers more yielding and better suited to the use of the bridle and riding sail arrangement.
Again, the main idea behind the Pardey strategy is to create a turbulent field upwind, a "slick" that smooths the seas and robs the waves of a great deal of their power. The bridle is adjusted so that the boat lies about 50° off the wind, and the use of a riding sail (storm trysail, triple-reefed main, or combinations of other sails, depending on the particular hull and rig) increases the pressure of the wind on the boat.
The result is that boat, rode and sea anchor are, as a train, drift downwind at about 5/8 of a knot, churning up the sea and setting up the turbulent field ahead of the boat. Note that this is a little different from the traditional method of heaving to - the boat occasionally fore- reaching.
Again: The Pardey strategy requires square drift. The yacht should not zig-zag or fore-reach out of her protective slick. She must drift squarely downwind, her keel "scraping" the sea. Refer to Storm Tactics for more insights into the Pardey's method of heaving-to.
File S/M-3, derived from writings of Lin & Larry Pardey - See article on "Heaving To" in August '82 issue of Sail Magazine, also pages 268-274 of Seraffyn's Oriental Adventure (W.W. Norton & Co., 1983) and the Pardeys' book entitled Storm Tactics (Pardey Books, 1995) - Vessel name Seraffyn, pocket cruiser, built by Lawrence F. Pardey, LOA 24' 7" x LWL 22' 2" x Beam 8' 11" x Draft 4' 8" x 5 Tons - Full Keel - Sea anchor: 9-ft. diameter Naval Ordnance (BUORD) parachute on 250' x 5/8" nylon three strand rode with Pardeys' own bridle arrangement & 3/8" galvanized swivel - No trip line - Deployed in the Gulf of Papagayo off Mexico and in the North Pacific during storms with winds of 40-70 knots - Bridle arrangement held the bow 50° off the wind - Drift was estimated to be about 5/8 of a knot.
Blue water veterans Lin and Larry Pardey have been using para-anchors since 1970. The one they used on Seraffyn was BUORD MK 2 MODEL 3. This parachute is government surplus and has been in use by fishermen for decades. The canopy is fabricated from heavy, nylon mesh material and it has sixteen shroud lines of 1000 lb. Dupont braid. Patrick M. Royce, author of Sailing Illustrated, did a series of tests on this parachute in 1969 and nicknamed it Two Pennant Storm Anchor (see page 157 of Royce's Sailing Illustrated).
Your author refers to these parachutes as "BUORDS" because they were originally developed for anti-submarine warfare use by the Navy's former BUreau of ORDnances - now Naval Sea Systems Command. Carrier-based S-3 Viking aircraft use such small diameter, heavy gauge parachutes to deliver torpedoes and other ordnances from the air. On page 269 of Seraffyn's Oriental Adventure the Pardeys show two photographs of the BUORD MK 2 MODEL 3. There is also a picture of Larry Pardey holding one up on page 36 of Storm Tactics.
In their original article in SAIL, Lin and Larry reported using this para-anchor in conjunction with a steadying sail in the Gulf of Papagayo (off Mexico) in gale force winds. The steadying sail would luff and flog violently as the boat was frequently pulled head-to-wind. Then it would fill and the head of the boat would fall off. This cycle would repeat itself once every four or five minutes - an uncomfortable and noisy affair. So Larry Pardey later rigged up an adjustable fairlead that kept the bow some 45-50° off the wind, at the same time causing the triple-reefed main to fill quite nicely and dampen the roll. This made the boat heel and lie much more comfortably. As a bonus, Larry found that in this attitude (45-50° off the wind) the boat would "scrape her keel" as she slid slowly downwind, leaving in her turbulent wake a significant "slick" that smoothed the seas, lessening their effect on the boat and gear. "You would be amazed at how this slick breaks down waves and steals their power," wrote the Pardeys to your author. Here is an excerpt from subsequent correspondence (reproduced by permission):
We have a preference for the BUORD surplus chute because 1) it is heavily built, with shrouds on our's almost strong enough to lift Taleisin, 2) it can be purchased quite inexpensively second hand, 3) as it is heavy weight fabric it does not have a tendency to fill with wind when you are deploying it, 4) we have used it since 1970 without problems, and finally, 5) because its fabric stretches when unusual strains come on it, the fabric becomes porous and lets some water sieve through, this absorbs shock loads.
Add this to the stretch of the nylon anchor line and we feel that the catenary curve-effect of chains or weights is redundant. We prefer a dead simple system - no floats, no trip lines, no catenary chains. We are also concerned about the move to bigger and bigger chutes. The bigger they are, the harder they are to store, handle and use. We are not sure they stop drift much better - once a chute is 8 to 15 feet in diameter, the drifts recorded by us on our boats, and during tests with modern sailboats off the Cape of Storms [South Africa], showed that the drift rate with the relatively small BUORD chute was about the same as that listed throughout the Drag Device Data Base for boats using much larger chutes, a drift of between 5/8 and one knot. For monohulls laying at a hove-to position, a smaller chute, combined with the considerable drag of the keel, as shown in the diagram, will produce a wide, effective slick. We can see that multihulls laying head to wind would need the largest chute possible as only the sea anchor is working to create a protective slick.
A further thought on chain. As chafe in the bowroller or fairlead is a major concern with any nylon anchor rode (onshore or offshore), we have considered using a 30 foot length of chain for the inboard end of the rode. But as we have not yet done so, we can make no actual comment on this idea.
PARDEY BRIDLE ARRANGEMENT
Sea anchor rode is led off the bow. Pennant line from cockpit winch causes the bow to lie 50° of the wind. Storm trysail is set and the tiller lashed to leeward. As the boat is pushed downwind her keel begins to shed vortices, which gradually merge into a turbulent field upstream. The intense mixing effect of this turbulence will tend to cancel molecular rotation - the stuff that waves are made of. Note that this strategy requires square drift. The boat must not forereach - sail out of her protective "slick." The Pardeys have practical suggestions for ensuring that it does not in their book, Storm Tactics - required reading.
To what extent does the turbulence generated by the square drift of the keel affect the shape and ferocity of the waves? The "slick" mentioned by Lin and Larry Pardey is not to be confused with the superficial effects of oil on the surface of the water. It is a more profound phenomenon. It has to do with the turbulent field created by a succession of vortices, technically known as the Von Karman Vortex Street.
Vortices are eddies, created by the motion of irregular shapes in fluids. They flow away from the boundary layer and gradually merge into a homogeneous turbulent field in which the turbulence in one part of the field is the same as that in any other part.
Since non-homogeneous ocean waves are created by the orbital rotation of water particles, anything that interferes with that rotation can have an effect in a seaway. Logically, and if the interference is great enough, the resulting turbulent field can de-stabilize - or at the very least smooth down - the wave formations directly ahead of the boat.
File S/M-2, obtained from Charles W. Turner, Marblehead MA. - Vessel name Mambo, hailing port Marblehead, Little Harbor 40 yawl, designed by Ted Hood, LOA 39' 11" x LWL 29' 7" x Beam 11' x 11 Tons - Full keel with bronze centerboard drawing 10' 6" when down, (draft 4' 3" with board raised at sea anchor) - Sea anchor: 24-ft. diameter cargo type parachute on 120' x 1" dia. three strand rode & 1/2" swivel - Full trip line - Deployed in 1964 in deep water, approx. midway between Bermuda and Nantucket Light, within the Gulf Stream, with the wind estimated at between 40-60 knots with seas 25' and greater - Vessel's bow yawed 10° - Drift was estimated to be 40 n.m. during 12 hours at sea anchor - mainly due to the motion of the Gulf Stream.
Chapter eighteen of Coles's Heavy Weather Sailing is entitled Twice Rolled Over. It is about the trials and tribulations of the 39-ft. centerboard yawl Doubloon, whose 3/4-inch-thick bronze centerboard was "bent about 30 degrees, probably when it hit the water as the yacht came back to even keel after the roll over." Doubloon was forced to run before 60-knot winds off the Carolina coast in the spring of 1964. The skipper, Joe Byars, tried a variety of traditional tactics in an effort to "keep the sea."
First, he tried running before the wind under bare poles. It worked for a while, but after taking five full smashes from astern (resulting in one crewmember being temporarily swept overboard) he changed course and put Doubloon on a broad reach, trying to work the boat out of the storm and the Gulf Stream.
This new tactic seemed to work for a while. Three hours later, however, the yacht was unexpectedly struck by a breaking wave and knocked down on her beam end.
Byars tried lying a-hull next. With her centerboard down Doubloon lay quietly with her bow some 70° off the wind for four hours. Then, suddenly, a wave broke and rolled her completely - 360-degrees in about five seconds. Six hours later she was smash-rolled for the second time. All the crew sustained injuries - Byars broke a rib - and there was havoc down below.
The next day the crew managed to improvise "sea anchors," one of which consisted of a working jib, with the head attached to the tack to create more drag. Two mattresses were also lashed onto the remains of the stern pulpit in order to create windage aft. Doubloon took no more knockdowns.
A few months later, in June 1964, another sailboat called Mambo, practically identical to Doubloon, encountered similar conditions in the same area of the Gulf Stream, but used a parachute sea anchor. Mambo was on the homeward leg of the Bermuda Race when, at daybreak, the wind freshened from the NE and quickly built up to Force-9. This was followed by a build-up of the seas, and it wasn't long before the waves were big enough to completely blanket the wind when Mambo was in a trough.
Mambo's skipper, Charles W. Turner of Marblehead, Massachusetts, a moderately experienced sailor, had the boat running before the seas initially. A short time later, as conditions continued to deteriorate, a trusted and more experienced crewmember suggested that it seemed high time to turn the boat around and face into it.
The decision was then made to try to heave-to in the traditional way - by using sails. However severe cross-waves made it impractical to do this.
Another crewmember then pointed to the 24-ft. diameter para-anchor on the cabin sole which the owner had purchased. He stated, "Since you had us practicing with that thing off Marblehead, why not try it now?" The skipper decided that this was a good time to try it, since the man who had ridiculed it in Marblehead now appeared to favor its use.
It took three tries to accomplish proper deployment. On the first attempt the parachute blew under the bow until the keel was on top of it. It was then pulled back, straightened out and again tried. This time it flew up in the air, reaching a position where a mizzen staysail would normally be flown. It was again recovered.
On the third attempt it stayed in the water and, as the boat drifted back, it was payed out to the full length of its line, with the trip line float right above it. The line was secured to a bow cleat, although they were not sure it would hold. Mambo then faced nicely into seas of about 25-30 ft. In this posture she rode out the rest of the storm safely, albeit cork-screwing annoyingly because of the cross-seas which were running up the troughs. Mambo, tethered to the 24-ft. diameter para-anchor, sustained no knockdowns or "barrel rolls" as did her sistership, Doubloon.
File S/M-1, derived from the writings of John Claus Voss and Norman Kenny Luxton - Vessel name Tilikum, converted Siwash Indian war canoe, hailing port Victoria B.C., LOA 32' x Beam 5' x Draft 36" x 1.5 Tons - Sea anchor, four-foot long, 22-inch diameter canvas cone used in conjunction with a mizzen sail - Deployed in numerous storms during voyage from Victoria B.C. (May 19, 1901) to Tahiti, Australia, South Africa, and finally England (September 2, 1904).
This is one of the earliest recorded cases of a small sailing vessel using a sea anchor to negotiate heavy weather offshore. Mention of the use of the device is made in The Venturesome Voyages Of Captain Voss and Luxton's Pacific Crossing (Gray's Publishing, 1968 and 1971). Both books have been out of print but Grafton Books has recently issued a reprint of the former, now entitled Venturesome Voyages, in its "Mariner's Library" series.
Little is known of the life of John Voss, the father of drag devices. He was born in about 1854, some say in Newfoundland, others Nova Scotia, and yet others Sweden. His seafaring life seems to have begun in 1877 when as a young man he went to sea in large sailing vessels. By 1901 he was a hardened seaman, having served as master on many sailing ships plying the fur trade from Victoria to Yokohama. Much controversy surrounds him in his later years. Some maintain that he was eventually lost at sea. It is more likely, however, that he died in San Francisco in 1922, while earning a living driving a bus there.
The vessel making the remarkable 1901-1904 circumnavigation was a converted 32-ft. Siwash Indian dugout which, according to her owner, had been in many Indian battles on the West Coast of British Columbia. She was given the name Tilikum, a Chinook word meaning "friend." During the voyage to the South Pacific the crew of the Tilikum consisted of John Claus Voss, captain, and Norman Kenny Luxton, mate. The two later fell out with each other. Voss's attitude toward the sea was a very conservative one. He was not one to take anything for granted out there and dealt with the unpredictable forces of nature in a cautious, methodical way.
Wrote Norman Luxton, "Voss's ideas were very much more scientific in weathering a storm... he knew his business, and he learned it by going easy. I only once ever saw Voss take a chance. He never gave a storm any benefit of any doubt, and he never sailed until he even lost a sheet, always anticipating trouble. Many's the hell he has given me for not taking in sail when perhaps I should have." (Luxton's Pacific Crossing.)
"Captain Voss Patent Sea And Surf Anchor." From a hand sketch believed to be Voss's own. (Courtesy of the Maritime Museum of British Columbia).
Voss told Luxton about how he would heave-to in a storm on what he called, a "sea anchor." He had gotten the idea from an old sailor in the North Sea. Tilikum's sea anchor consisted of an iron barrel hoop about twenty two inches in diameter, with a four-foot canvas cone sewn on (see image).
It was used in a total of sixteen heavy gales during the three year circumnavigation. To quote Luxton, "Once, for seventeen days the Tilikum rode to such an appliance and a drag, and never shipped a cup of water. The weather was composed of samples of everything that the misnamed Pacific could put up."
Voss maintained that a stationary hull was better able to retain its buoyancy - rise to the seas. The same hull moving at speed through the water, he argued, was "held down by suction" and susceptible to great damage by boarding seas. In Venturesome Voyages he appendixed some twenty paragraphs of advice, where we find the following:
I will go a little further, claiming - and I have absolute confidence in doing so - that on no occasion while in charge of a vessel which was hove-to under storm sail in a violent gale, have I shipped a sea that caused any damage to ship or outfit, even though the storm sails had been carried away by the force of the wind. And the same applies to the small boats I have sailed on long cruises when they were hove-to under sea anchor and riding sail. (Venturesome Voyages, Grafton Books, 1989.)
Voss's philosophy was to go into a defensive posture - heave-to - long before the seas built too high or began breaking. Head sails were first dropped and the vessel made to head up into the seas. The sea anchor was then lowered and its cable let out. The heavy mizzen was then set as a riding sail. Thus, if the bow fell off to one side it could only yaw so far before the sea anchor and the mizzen brought it back to face into the teeth of the gale. Using this tactic, Voss and crew were able to survive a 1912 typhoon off the coast of Japan in Sea Queen, a little yawl, 19 feet on the waterline! The outer fringes of the typhoon lifted the roof off Yokohama Station and drove a large steamer ashore.
This idea of "a cone and a riding sail" has entered into the folklore of heavy weather tactics. To this day your authors receive inquiries about the so-called Voss method. Both the Coast Guard report (CG-D-20-87, Investigation of the Use of Drogues to Improve the Safety of Sailing Yachts) and the Wolfson RORC report have concluded that small, cone-type sea anchors are generally ineffective and unstable on their own. Both indicate the need for larger devices for use off the bow.
Earl Hinz renders a similar verdict in Understanding Sea Anchors And Drogues (Cornell Maritime Press, 1987). It has to be pointed out, also, that small conical sea anchors tend to put inordinate strains on rudders and their fittings as well.
Lin and Larry Pardey have modified and modernized Voss's method of heaving-to with great success on their own boats. They have replaced Voss's small conical sea anchor with a larger parachute-type device, and his canvas mizzen with a modern storm trysail. Using these they have ridden out various storms with success - see Files S/M-3 & 4.
In 1965 Tilikum was restored and moved into the Maritime Museum of British Columbia in Victoria's Bastion Square. She - and her crude drag devices - can be seen there today, along with some other famous sailboats, among them John "Hurricane" Guzzwell's Trekka. A fact-finding mission to the Maritime Museum of British Columbia is highly recommend (read good excuse for a wonderful little vacation).
From Seattle take the high speed ferry to the delightful port of Victoria, then relax and immerse yourself in the sights, sounds and smells of a seafaring past. Stand on the wharf, close your eyes, and you may imagine that you hear the clanging of ship's bells and the noise and commotion that surrounds the arrival of a big, three-masted bark, after a difficult passage from Yokohama. The gaunt, tired Captain Voss leans silently over the rail. The first mate shouts orders as men with salt-crusted beards furl and tidy sails from their lofty perches up in the sky. Waiting on the wharf are the wives and children of the seamen, dressed in the attire of the late 1800s. A seagull cries out. The last yardarm is secured. The ship coasts to a perfect docking. Lines are heaved ashore. If you press your imagination a little more you may even see the horse-drawn carts lined up on the wharf, the horses flicking their tails impatiently.
File D/M-19, obtained from W.R. Allen, Milson's Point, NSW, Australia - Vessel name Adele, hailing port Sydney, monohull, Superstar sloop designed by Sparkman & Stephens, LOA 39' x LWL 35' x Beam 12' x Draft 6' x 8 Tons - Fin keel - Drogue: Seabrake MK I on 200' x 5/8" nylon braid rode - Deployed in cyclone Bola in deep water about 50 miles NW of the North Cape of New Zealand with winds of 60 knots and seas of 40 ft. - Vessel could be steered through a wide arc in the proximity of land - Speed was reduced to about 3-5 knots during 36 hours of deployment.
Seabrake Mk I
The Seabrake used in this file was the same model used by Peter Blake in D/T-1, the more expensive MK I, with the spring-loaded gate mechanisms. The mechanism is adjustable and can be set to open the gates at a certain speed, instantly increasing drag by about 70%. Refer to inventor John Abernethy's explanation of the workings of the spring-loaded mechanism in File D/M-10. The earlier versions (likely this one) had ballasted nacelles to help keep them submerged, while later versions relied on a length of chain in the rode. Transcript:
Since purchasing the Seabrake I have made four Tasman crossings - Sydney to Auckland and return. The first two crossings were reasonably monotonous. The third included my involvement as a competitor in the Trans Tasman Transfield Challenge Race [Feb/March 1988]. In this race competitors were savaged by cyclone Bola in the vicinity of Three Kings Island and the North Cape of New Zealand. We ran into Bola on the approaches to the northern tip of New Zealand. There was no race warning and the first advisory we had was a weather forecast from a shore-based NZ radio station! Needless to say this warning was passed rapidly through the fleet! We passed through Bola whilst it was centered in the area of Three Kings Islands, Cape Reinga and North Cape. Retrospectively the weather maps indicated that Bola had three centers concentrated in the area at the time.
We had to make an important decision regarding our course across the top of NZ, a particularly treacherous piece of water in bad weather. Even in settled weather the NZ pilot advises that small vessels should approach no closer than fives miles to land. In rough weather fishing boats and even large vessels have been lost, in some cases without trace. This is largely due to strong currents flowing up and down the West and East coasts, and shallow waters (120-130 meters). In bad weather the safer course is to keep northward of the Three Kings and proceed via the Three Kings Trough in deep water (more than 1000 meters). This is the course we adopted.
At 2200 hrs on the 7th March at 33° 36' S, 169° 17' E, we were under bare poles and had set the Seabrake. Shortly thereafter we suffered a 90 degree knockdown, but apart from a few bruises there was no damage. However through this incident we were made very much aware of the confused nature of the seas and that we were catching the odd rogue cross sea. On the 8th, 9th and 10th March we proceeded in a SE direction following the Three Kings Trough, towing the Seabrake. During this period of heavy breaking seas with winds in excess of 60 knots the Seabrake was in continuous use, doing a marvelous job steadying our progress and giving us a strong feeling of security regardless of the conditions. At no stage did Adele show any tendency to broach and it was always possible to maintain a measure of control, despite the extreme conditions.
With the wind generally NW we streamed the Seabrake from the starboard primary winch, which meant the brake was mainly on the quarter, though when the occasion demanded with a particularly big sea we would run straight before. I am not aware of any period when the brake was not on the back of the next wave. On the crest of a wave we would occasionally pull the brake clear [out of a wave face] but it always dug in to hold us for the next one. We made no adjustments to the spring-loaded mechanism which was set to operate [kick in and generate 70% more drag] at 5 knots, and generally we were able to maintain that speed.
We had no problems with chafe and we did not use chain or any other means to weigh the brake down. Wind speed was variable between 40 and 60 knots and for shorter periods 60 plus. Difficult to estimate the height of waves. With a fifty odd foot mast we would on occasions be buried in the trough. On the 8th we had periods of heavy rain followed by gusty winds up to 50 kts. On the 9th with storm jib set the log says "from midnight to daybreak ran before heavy breaking seas - Seabrake probably saved us from being rolled in the early hours of the morning. During the day and evening conditions too rough to get sailing so jilled along at 2-5 kts under Seabrake in a SE direction away from North Cape." On 10th March conditions had moderated and we were able to proceed under full sail.
On the return journey, Auckland to Sydney, we experienced peak conditions. A high extended right across the Tasman with a broad front covering most of the North Island of New Zealand with a narrow front bordering the New South Wales coast [of Australia]. We left New Zealand in extremely light conditions having to motor up the East Coast until we cleared the Three Kings. Thereafter we moved in an easterly air flow right across the Tasman.
As we approached Australia the wind steadily increased. This was further exacerbated by low pressure areas developing north and south of the high. During the last five days we experienced winds in excess of 40 knots for most of the time, including a squall which lasted about an hour which was an absolute white out of wind-driven seas, which we estimated in excess of 100 knots.
Throughout the period of five days we towed the Seabrake off the weather quarter. Initially we sailed under trysail and boomed out storm jib. As conditions increased in severity we progressively lowered the trysail then the storm jib. Later the cockpit spray hood and life buoys, to reduce windage. As you can imagine, with an easterly air stream extending right across the Tasman the seas built up and were breaking dangerously, particularly at times when the winds reached about 50 knots. Adele handled the conditions extremely well with the Seabrake out. It was quite remarkable how in the midst of a breaking wave it would hold the boat momentarily and allow the wave to sweep forward and away from under us.
As you will have gathered from this I have the highest regard for the Seabrake. Even under the worst conditions the brake always gives a measure of control and at the same time enables you to make progress. Not the least virtue is a sense of security and a great boost to your confidence at time when your morale could be at low ebb. The downside is that they are comparatively heavy and they take up room in the cockpit, though this can be overcome to some extent by mounting them on special brackets [on the stern pulpit]. Still, for safety at sea, anything is worthwhile.
I have also had some experience with parachute anchors which are also great, particularly with prolonged periods of heavy weather when you want to get some sleep and rest up for a period. You can really sit back and enjoy a good storm! The main problem is with chafe and this needs constant attention.
File D/M-18, obtained from Wes Thom, Brownsville, TX - Vessel name Paper Dragon, hailing port Annapolis, monohull, Cal T-2 designed by Bill Lapworth, LOA 27' x LWL 24' x Beam 10' x Draft 5' x 3 Tons - Fin keel - Drogue: 36" x 72" heavy duty, Coast Guard approved cone made by Cal June, on 125' x 1/2" nylon three strand tether and bridle arms of 10' each, with 1/2" galvanized swivel - Deployed in a whole gale in deep water about 125 miles west of Bermuda with winds of 45-50 knots and seas of 20-25 ft. - Vessel's stern yawed 20-30° - Speed was reduced to about 2 knots during 48 hours of deployment.
Wes Thom has delivered yachts on the east coast and across the Atlantic. En route to Bermuda on his own boat, a 27-ft. Cal T-2 designed by Bill Lapworth, he had occasion to use one of the heavier 36-inch diameter Coast Guard approved cones manufactured by Cal June of Los Angeles. This is quite a large cone, about six feet long, not to be confused with the smaller "fish trolling" ones made by Cal June. It was deployed on 125' of rode and Wes Thom and his wife saw it being repeatedly tumbled by the crests. Thom did not consider the tumbling a drawback at the time because the cone would always recover and re-exert its pull at the needed time. Transcript:
We had been sailing from Cape May to Bermuda. Two days out, on a Wednesday, we talked to a Russian tanker by radio and were warned by an individual, who seemed to be out of breath, to head back for the mainland immediately. Basically he told us that a bad storm was on the way and a small boat like ours had no business being out there. He said they were increasing their own speed to full speed to avoid the storm. We thanked them, but told them we could not get to land that fast. They said "God bless you, we will pray for you."
At 7000 hrs Friday we had a full main and 150 jib up. As the wind increased we rolled in the 150 and hanked on a working jib. At 1100 hrs first reef in main. At 1200 hrs 2nd reef. At 1400 hrs storm jib. At 1500 hours no main. At 1600 hrs bare poles. At this point we were still going in the general direction of Bermuda about 1.5 knots, and a little concerned about the reefs around Bermuda if the storm blew us all the way there. We were 100-125 miles west of Bermuda, our course NE, the wind out of the south. As our speed increased to about 6 knots, occasionally surfing at 10-11 knots, we put out two warps. No knots, no weights, just 150' of 5/8" line [nylon three strand] off the port winch, and 300' of 1/2" [nylon three strand] off the starboard winch. With the warps out our speed came back down to 1.5 to 2 knots, still heading NE. We thought if we needed to we could always use the port winch to pull the warps in and add weights etc. In reality we could never have done that. The strain on each warp, even after the worst part of the storm, was amazing. The 5/8" warp was pulled so tight it would make noises like a cello string, and the 1/2" warp had an even higher pitch, like a guitar string. After putting out the warps we later rigged a 125' piece of 1/2" line, the end securely bridled through corner stanchion bases, with a 2-size larger CAL JUNE conical drogue [36" x 72" Coast Guard Approved "Storm Sea Anchor"]. When our speed got back up to 6 knots [with warps in tow] we deployed the cone, which brought our speed back down to 1.5 knots [the two warps coming off port and starboard winches and widely spaced to right and left, the Cal June cone and its tether in the center].
Most of the waves seemed to be breaking before they got to the boat, but a few would drop 10" of water in the cockpit. At night we also steered by listening for the oddball waves crossing the others. They sounded a bit like a train when they hit, rocking us sideways if we had not turned down wave for them. The main waves were out of the SW. The odd ones from the S or SSE.
In the daylight we could see that the waves were not less than the height of our spreaders (about 25') and about 150-175' from crest to crest. We were in deep water east of the Gulf Stream, WNW of Bermuda, still headed NE. We could look behind and watch the drogue start up a wave as we came over a crest. We could see it tumble on its own crest as we slid down the back side of ours. About the time we were in the trough it would grab again, and up and over the next crest we would go. We could clearly see the yellow cone tumbling repeatedly. It would get rolled, get tossed around, go end over end and everything in between. But it wasn't getting turned inside out, and it seemed to be doing its job when needed.
Most of the time we could let the autopilot steer. We could get 2-3 hours of very good sleep, even with the freight trains coming every once in a while. Once, when I was inside and looking through a port hole I saw the bow get buried by green water, which then turned white, and rolled off, and I could see the bow again. Sunday morning (48 hours later) it starting moderating. By 1600 hrs we had hauled in our CAL JUNE. It had to be winched in, a few feet at a time, when it was tumbling on the crest behind us. The sea was still sloppy when we set sail and the last warp [which was still left out] served to ease our motion.
We believed we had been blown 50-75 miles WNW of Bermuda and set a course for south. Monday morning we got our first celestial sight, and a few hours later a running fix, but something was very wrong. Our intercepts were very long and our sights had never been this far off before. Theory says you don't have to know an exact DR. Just guess. So I picked 500 miles NE. The intercept said no, not there. I tried 500 miles NW - no not there. I tried 500 miles SE - not there either. But they all said "here," so I moved my DR there, and sure enough, I knew where we were. From the last known DR position we had been blown 125-150 miles. We had overshot Bermuda! By Monday about noon I knew we had sailed south past the East Coast of Bermuda and now had to double back to the NW to get to our destination. Monday night we were in St. Georges Harbor, tied up, in good condition, undamaged, safe. Our only loss was the 150' x 5/8" three strand warp. It had unlayed and hockled in the middle, in random 10' sections, and had to be scrapped. Not much to pay for a safe trip.
File D/M-17, obtained from Michael & Doreen Ferguson, Auckland, NZ - Vessel name St. Leger, hailing port Vancouver, monohull, G.R.P. cutter, LOA 41' x 8 Tons - Modified fin keel - Drogue: 36" Diameter Galerider on 250' x 3/4" polypropylene three strand rode, with 5/8" stainless steel swivel - Deployed in the Queen's Birthday Storm in deep water about 400 miles south of Fiji with winds of 60 knots and seas of 40 ft. and greater - Speed was reduced to about 3.5 to 4 knots during 60 hours of deployment.
St. Leger was in the same June 1994 "Queen's Birthday Storm" that claimed three lives and numerous yachts. Her Canadian owners, Michael and Doreen Ferguson, sent the following report to Skip Raymond of Hathaway, Reiser and Raymond, who then forwarded it to Victor Shane for inclusion in the database. Transcript:
We launched St. Leger in 1 May 1982. She is a 41 ft. G.R.P. cutter with modified fin keel and fully unbalanced rudder, using a "Sayes Rig" self-steering vane. We moved aboard St. Leger the day before the launching and have lived aboard since 1982. We retired in 1991, Mike was a Sargent with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police - the NCO I/C of Marine Services with commercial maritime qualifications. After a hair raising experience in severe weather in Queen Charlotte Strait in 1989, we purchased a Galerider drogue directly from Hathaway, Reiser and Raymond after seeing an advertisement in a yachting magazine.
In May of 1991 we left our home port of Vancouver, Canada, and headed for Alaska. Thus began our life as full time cruisers. In April 1993 we crossed the Pacific from Mexico, arriving in New Zealand in November of that year.
In June 1994 we departed Tauranga, New Zealand, bound for Fiji, with only Michael and I aboard. At 1600 hrs on our second day out and approximately 75 miles from the North Cape of New Zealand, we first heard of a low pressure system situated over Vanuatu, predicted to track southeast into our intended path. The weather forecast in our area predicted southeast winds 35-40 knots, not particularly severe, so we decided to continue on our course under reduced sail. Later, under bare poles and in deteriorating conditions, we ran before it in very steep, short seas, and the wind sustained at 50 knots, with higher gusts.
At about midnight on day 2 of the storm we decided to deploy the Galerider as our boat speed was now 11-12 knots in precipitous seas. We deployed the Galerider using a single line off the starboard quarter, approximately 250 feet of 3/4 inch three strand polypropylene line. We selected polyprop three strand because of its floating ability. Our plan was to slow St. Leger down, whilst still maintaining steerage using the "Sayes Rig" vane, due to shorthanded crew. Immediately upon deployment our boat speed was reduced to 3.5 to 4 knots and we felt much more comfortable.
The wind vane continued to steer beautifully, but as St. Leger slowed down in the troughs of the huge seas the tow line and Galerider tried to catch up to us, leaving a loose coil of 12 to 15 feet of tow line floating in close proximity to the vane's trim-tab steering paddle. Fearing that the slack line might tangle in the trim-tab and surely tear it off, Mike began bringing in the slack each time we were in a trough, using a primary cockpit winch, until the Galerider was approximately 80-90 feet behind the boat. The drogue was in the same wave as St. Leger, but on the other side of the crest [on the back side]. We observed the Galerider for hours! A small "half-moon" section of the drogue was visible at times, and we noted the three strand polypropylene tow line did not unwind, nor did the Galerider oscillate or rotate. And best of all, this enabled the wind vane to steer the whole time.
We towed the Galerider without incident for 60 hours, with winds at 60+ knots (our "Swoffer" wind gauge was pegged at its limit). At approximately 0800 hrs on day 5 the wind had dropped to 18-20 knots. The low pressure system was east of the Kermadec Islands and moving away from us. The seas were still high, but we readily retrieved the Galerider, which was in almost new condition with no damage or excessive wear after a tough workout!
We should also mention that the New Zealand Air Force Orion aircraft searching the area [for other vessels in distress] made a low pass over us and we advised them by radio that we were OK and not in need of their assistance. Our sails were set and we spent the next week hard on the wind in light northerly winds with very lumpy, confused seas. We arrived safely in Suva, Fiji, where we exchanged tales of the "Queen's Birthday Storm" that claimed three lives and seven cruising yachts. Everyone involved was interested in what "worked" and what didn't.
File D/M-16, obtained from John A. Traylor, Alta, Wyoming - Vessel name Beyond, hailing port Portland, Oregon, monohull cutter, designed by John Traylor, LOA 65' x LWL 56' x Beam 12' 8" x Draft 8' x 18 Tons - Fin keel - Drogue: Jordan series, 144 x 5" Diameter cones on 330' x 1"- 3/4"-5/8" nylon braid rode, with 24' of 3/8" chain at the end of the array - Deployed in a whole gale in deep water about 90 miles west of Point Conception, California, with winds of 40-60 knots and seas of 18-24 ft. - Vessel's stern yawed 10° - Drift was about 68 nm in 33 hours of deployment.
Before setting off on a major ocean passage John A. Traylor equipped Beyond with a number of drag devices, including a Para-Tech sea anchor and a Jordan series drogue. The series drogue was used in a gale off Point Conception. Transcript:
The drogue took me personally about 24 man hours to construct, from a kit sold by Dave Pelissier (Ace Sailmakers). Once I had tied a few cones on the rode, construction was easy, but of course boring! The tow-rope specified for our 18-ton cutter is: first third 1" nylon braid, second third 3/4" nylon, and the last third 5/8" nylon. Total number of cones: 144. We did fabricate a bridle, each leg being about 25 feet long, leading to large port and starboard bronze cleats on the stern. The end weight was four fathoms of 3/8" chain.
It took me about thirty minutes to bring the gear up from below and lash the bag into deployment position, and rig the bridle. The most difficult task was to remove the Aries vane (one of Nick Franklin's last models, which can be quickly dismounted). This was a bit dangerous - I had to go down into our stern "sugar scoop" and unhinge the vane, all the while watching for the next wave which might sweep the scoop. Once the Aries was secured, deployment was very easy. Just drop the chain off the stern and stand clear.
There was no noticeable shock [when the drogue took hold], but I could clearly see the heavy nylon rode stretching and squeezing the water out as it absorbed the load. We had been running under bare poles. Over a period of perhaps 40 seconds our speed dropped from 8 knots to about 1 3/4" (one and three-quarters) knots. The rudder was lashed amidships with a nylon bungee. There were no signs of rudder stresses. Chafe was not a problem throughout the duration of the 44 hour gale, but would have been if we had not removed the Aries vane gear.
Our vessel is 65 feet long and has a center cockpit. We had no water shipped in the cockpit, so I cannot comment on the performance of the cockpit drains, companionway, etc. The rather large "sugar scoop" stern was frequently swept by the cresting seas, and the noise was occasionally quite loud. On several occasions large waves broke astern and completely filled the "scoop." But the series drogue kept the hull very well aligned into the seas, with at most 10 degrees of occasional yaw. Once the long narrow hull was held stern to the seas, the wild ride was much smoother. Either my wife or myself stood watch in the deckhouse, where we could look astern and watch the seascape.
The gale abated rather quickly in the early hours of 27 October. The seas were quite lumpy and with no wind to steady the ship, the strain on the rigging was a concern. We decided to attempt to retrieve the drogue immediately, rather than wait for the light of dawn. With a rolling hitch on the bridle, and line led to our largest coaming winches, we found we could retrieve the drogue, albeit slowly, without damaging the cones. We were about 15 minutes into this process (and had retrieved about ¼ of the total) when my wife noticed a tanker to the northwest, already well over the horizon and with leading lights lined up directly on us. After two attempts to raise him on VHF with no response, we could now see the foam under his bow from the bright moon overhead. I had my wife standby with a knife, ready to cut away the drogue if necessary. But much to our relief we were able to "rouse the watch" on the ship by playing our 600,000 candlepower spotlight on our mast and finally, I must admit, on the bridge of the ship, perhaps a mile away! We soon heard a voice (Greek?) in unmistakably angry tones on the VHF. After a short explanation, he bore away and wished us "Bon Voyage!"
All in all, we were most pleased with the performance of the drogue. My main concern with our particular installation is the necessity to remove the Aries vane gear. This exposes the crew to some definite risk of injury. If the gear is left in place, it will eventually be destroyed and the series drogue will probably be lost as well. One would hope to foresee the onset of serious weather and make preparations in advance, but as our experience with the rapid (and poorly forecast) onset of this gale shows, this is not always possible.
Using Parachutes, Sea Anchors and Drogues to Cope with Heavy Weather – Over 130 Documented Case Histories
S/M-6
