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Drogues on Monohulls

D/M-20 SPARKMAN & STEPHENS 34 (Swarbrick)

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S&S 34 monohullD/M 20

Monohull, Sparkman & Stephens

33' x 6 Tons, Fin Keel

Seasquid

Force 9+ Conditions

File D/M-19, obtained from Ben Tucker, Australia - Vessel name Gypsy2, hailing port Hobart, monohull sloop designed by Sparkman & Stephens and built by Swarbrick, LOA 33' x LWL 25' x Beam 10' x Draft 5' 10" x 6 Tons - Fin keel - Drogue: Seasquid on 150' (45m) x 7/16" (11mm) kermantle dynamic nylon double braid rode plus 6ft (2m) of 8mm chain - Deployed in  deep water midway on passage from Hobart, Australia to Bluff, New Zealand in winds of 45 knots gusting to 60kt and breaking seas of 20 - 30 ft. (6 - 10m) - Surfing down waves was inhibited, and speed was reduced to about 4 knots during 18 hours of deployment

Ben Tucker has over 70,000 miles of sailing experience, plus a million miles as an officer on a container ship. On this occasion he was sailing from Australia to New Zealand in early summer when he get caught in a strong gale:

On passage from Hobart to Bluff in early summer we got caught in a nasty low with strong westerly winds. Over the day the wind and seas built and quite suddenly it went from fun fast downwind sailing to dangerous just on dusk. We dropped the deep reefed main, and eventually ran with just a scrap of the roller reefing headsail set. As the seas built up we started surfing too fast for comfort down the front of the seas and deployed a sea squid on about 45 meters of 11mm kernmantle dynamic nylon rope that had previously been used for climbing.  About 2 meters of 8 mm chain was shackled between the drogue and the warp. 

The drogue immediately slowed us down and controlled the surfing. 

But a big problem with our setup was soon revealed, the stretch in the drogue warp, coupled with the short line and only a short length of lightweight chain caused the drogue to break free of the approaching wave and fly forward towards us through the air about 10 meters and then re-engage, this would allow the boat to accelerate quickly to 7 or 8 knots until the drogue reengaged and with a brutal jerk it then slowed us down again to around 4 knots, this would often rip the drogue back out of the water again, repeating the cycle.

It was clear that the wavelength was around 100 meters or so, as the drogue was visible behind us on the approaching crest when we were near the trough.

It was deployed off the port quarter with no bridle to keep it clear of the windvane. We added a length of 19mm polypropylene line approximately 100 meters long in parallel with the drogue. This slowed us down enough that the drogue remained in the water with a more steady pull. 

We rode out the night hand steering with a small scrap of jib sheeted tight amidships and the drogue and warp behind.  Many times the cockpit filled with water, and were buffeted badly by the bigger crests, bouncing down the wave face. But by early morning it had eased significantly. 

We found that the windvane had been damaged by the drogue line at some point, and the plastic sea squid drogue had a bad crack in it, probably due to the tumbling as it flew through the air, then tangled with the chain and reengaged. 

the biggest lesson was to avoid using a dynamic rope with a drogue, Have at least 100 meters of warp available and plenty of heavy chain on the end to keep it well under water.  

The next time I used a drogue sailing to Antarctica on my 33 foot yacht Snow Petrel I had no issues with a much longer line, approximately 120 meters of 18mm polypropylene and 10 meters of 10mm chain using a Seabrake HSD 300 and the pull was very steady and consistent.

Once again we have problems with drogues skipping out of the waves, in this case exacerbated by using a very stretchy climbing rope as a rode. Elasticity is crucial in the rode for a para-anchor so as to prevent shock loading, but in a drogue a non-stretchy rode, combined with some weight at the drogue end, helps to keep the rode submerged leading to a more constant rode tension.

Ben notes that the wave length was about 100m and the drogue rode about half that. One would expect that this might work well, placing the drogue on the back of the when one needs it most, ie surfing down the face of the same wave, but in this case the extreme stretching of the rode seems to have counteracted this, resulting in the drogue pulling out of the water with the concomitant rapid acceleration of the boat.

As the Furgusons on St. Leger (D/M 17) found, one needs to either have a long rode with more weight to cover a wider range of conditions (as did Ben Tucker on his next adventure), or else be able to adjust it from the cockpit to specifically tune it to the conditions at the time.

Sea Anchors on Monohulls

S/M-37 Monohull, Pearson 424C

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PEARSON4S/M-37

Monohull, Pearson 424C

42' x 11 Tons, Low Aspect Fin Keel

18-Ft. Dia. Sea Anchor

Force 8-9 Conditions

 

File S/M-37, obtained from William T. Dwyer, Jr., Chicago, IL. - Vessel name Overdraft, hailing port Chicago, Pearson 424C cutter, designed by William Shaw, LOA 42.4' x LWL 33' 8" x Beam 13' x Draft 5' 6" x 11 Tons - Low aspect fin & skeg rudder - Sea anchor: 18-ft. Diameter Para-Tech on 300' x 5/8" nylon braid rode with 5/8" stainless steel swivel - Partial trip line - Deployed in a gale in deep water about 350 miles NW of Bermuda, with winds of 35-45 knots and seas of 12-20 feet - Vessel's bow yawed 20° - Drift was undetermined due to the proximity of the Gulf Stream.

The Gulf Stream is a 60-mile wide, swift (up to 5-knot) eastward flowing current. Past Cape Hatteras the stream is known to meander from side to side like a river. These meanders may change periodically, peeling off from the main body of the stream to form intense eddies. The eddies are sometimes called "rings." As the Stream moves eastward, warm rings are formed to its north and cold rings to its south. These discrete rings often migrate and meet back up with the main body of the Stream after months, or sometimes years.

Since the Gulf Stream transports warm water from southern latitudes one can usually tell whether one is entering or exiting it by the abrupt change in water temperature. At its edges, and deeper down, the Stream consists of a distinct, temperature gradient. This thermal gradient may extend deeper than 6000 ft. beneath the Stream.

Since cold water tends to dive beneath warm water, theoretically it may take a large sea anchor down with it - if it is deployed at an exact boundary zone. This is something that one has to be cautious of if one has to use a sea anchor in the Gulf Stream, especially in the fringes of a cold eddy. If this is the case one should rig a full trip line, one that allows the canopy to be readily tripped and retrieved without having to power up to the secondary float of a partial trip line. Otherwise the anchor may have to be cut away. There may be a possibility that this is what may have happened in the case of the S/V Overdraft. Transcript:

We departed Newport, RI on the afternoon of June 1, 1997 bound for the Mediterranean via the Azores. NOAA and a private weather forecaster called for NE winds 20-30 kts and recurring low pressure systems along a frontal boundary lying east to west along the 40th parallel, dropping to the southeast. Our plan was to sail SSE to approximately 38° N where we would cross the Gulf Stream and then sail SE until we encountered the westerlies. The going was rough, with winds from the NE higher than predicted.

Some time in the early morning of June 3, we entered the Gulf Stream heading south. Winds over the prior 24 hours had been NE at Force 6 to 7. Throughout the morning, winds increased to Force 8 to 9 with one observed gust of 55 kts apparent. We were sailing downwind in a following sea doing 8+ kts by the speedo. The waves became tall (10-12' with frequently higher waves of approximately 20'), and steep, as the seas ran counter to the Gulf Stream. Graybeards covered the sea as the tops of the waves broke against the current. We were sailing almost due south with the wind against the current, and although our knotmeter was registering hull speed, we were making approximately 4 kts over the bottom according to the GPS. I determined that we could not exit the Stream before nightfall on our current course, and decided to attempt to head ESE to escape these dangerous conditions before dark.

We proceeded ESE under staysail, deeply reefed main and engine to maintain as much directional control as possible. We took the non-breaking waves just aft of the beam and fell off to take the large breakers on our port quarter, or headed quickly up to take them at a 60° angle off the port bow. On three occasions when attempting to run off we were caught by a breaker and broached to starboard with the spreaders in the water and the wave breaking over the port side, filling the cockpit with 2½ feet of green water. By dusk we had reached the edge of the Gulf Stream, which we determined by a significant drop in water temperature. The waves became more trochoidal [rounded] in shape with fewer breakers. I decided at this point to set the sea anchor for the night as the crew had experienced miserable weather for three days and had no food or sleep for almost 24 hours.

An 18 foot Para-Tech sea anchor was deployed off the bow on 300' of 5/8" nylon braid line with 5/8" stainless swivel and no chain. The para-anchor had the standard float line with a 12" diameter plastic float buoy securely attached. After deployment the boat lay bow to the wind and did not yaw significantly from side to side, although Overdraft continued to pitch sharply, as the seas, while improved, were still quite steep. The boat lay to the sea anchor all night in winds of Force 7 decreasing to Force 6. Seas remained at about 8 feet.

At first light, we found that the rode was pointed downward at an angle of 35-45° off the port bow. Overnight the rode had chafed through the teak cap rail below the chock in an arc, cutting downward 3/4" to 1" into the wood. It was apparent that the boat was being pulled by the para-anchor in a northeasterly direction against the wind and sea. A comparison to the position check at the time the anchor was set showed we had move NE more than 3 nm overnight. The strain on the anchor rode was significant.

We attempted to retrieve the sea anchor by motoring in the direction of the anchor and pulling on the line - without success. The anchor seemed to dive deeper as we motored towards it, and we were only able to recover line as the boat rode down into a trough. As Overdraft rode back up the next crest, the rode was cleated and came under extreme tension with the anchor pulling downward on the bow. The wind was beginning to increase again and I feared that the crew attempting to retrieve the anchor by uncleating and cleating the line between waves could suffer serious hand injury, given the tension on the rode and the sea states. At this point I cut the anchor away. We had only recovered about 10 feet of line.

My supposition is that we had not sailed completely out of the Gulf Stream, and that the sea anchor was pulled downward by the northeasterly flowing current which may have been stronger at depth because of the counter-acting surface conditions caused by wind and waves. I do not believe the float became detached as it was securely tied and floating free upon deployment. Clearly, we were still in the influence of the Stream or we could not have moved northeast overnight against the wind and sea. An attempt to plot our position on a May 30th Gulf Stream analysis weather fax is enclosed, and it shows us at approximately the edge of the Stream on 0700 June 4. I find our overnight drift the more compelling evidence that we were still in the Stream because the potential plotting error of both the boat's position and the Gulf Stream location on this large scale fax is very large. For what it is worth, I don't believe setting the para-anchor in full current of the Gulf Stream in the conditions we experienced would have been a successful strategy. Because of the steepness of the seas and their frequent breaking, the boat would have taken a terrible pounding. The current would have pulled us NE into the seas, and because the anchor "dove," the bow would have been held down, further impeding the boat's ability to ride over the breaking seas. This experience has convinced me that (not even considering the loss of the gear) a sea anchor should not be set in a strong current running counter to the wind and seas except in a case of absolute last resort.

 

NOAA chart of the Gulf Stream for 30 May 1997. X marks the location of Overdraft. (Courtesy of JENIFER CLARK'S GULFSTREAM).
NOAA chart of the Gulf Stream for 30 May 1997. X marks the location of Overdraft. (Courtesy of JENIFER CLARK'S GULFSTREAM).

CAUTION: Do not deploy a large sea anchor in the axis of a major current unless it is absolutely necessary. Use a full trip line if you do, else stand ready to cut away the rode if you are absolutely certain that a cold eddy is taking the parachute down into the depths. You will be able to tell that this is so when the main float begins submerging and then finally disappears, by the significant increase in the angle at which the rode is leading downward, and by an unmistakable downward pull on the bow of the vessel.

If you are in the vicinity of a major current and there is a gale on the way, the best strategy is to try to traverse the current at right angles and get well clear before deploying the sea anchor. By and large ocean currents are a mixed blessing. The free ride that they may provide can be very costly at times. Some experienced sailors prefer to stay out of them altogether. The Pardeys have this to say about major currents in Storm Tactics: "Another thing we've learned the hard way is to avoid the axis of major currents. Even though it is tempting to grab the free lift offered by the Gulf Stream, you increase your chances of meeting unusual weather patterns and rougher seas."

Sea Anchors on Monohulls

S/M-36 Arpège 29 Sloop

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ARPEGES/M-36

Arpège 29 Sloop

29' x 3.6 Tons, Low Aspect Fin/Skeg

12-Ft. Dia. Sea Anchor

Force 8-9 Conditions

 

File S/M-36, obtained from Eleanor Tims, West Hagbourne, England - Vessel name Moon River, hailing port Southampton - Arpège sloop, designed by Dufour, LOA 29' x LWL 22' x Beam 10' x Draft 5' x 3.6 Tons - Low aspect fin keel & skeg rudder - Sea anchor: 12-ft. Diameter Para-Tech on 300' x 5/8" nylon braid rode with 1/2" stainless steel swivel - Partial trip line - Deployed in a gale in deep water about 50 miles north of Casablanca, with winds of 35-45 knots and confused seas - Vessel lay broadsides to the seas due to fouled sea anchor - Drift was about 80 n.m. in 32 hours.

Eleanor Tims has been a die-hard sailor for twenty years and has her own sailing school in the UK, offering practical boat handling and confidence-building courses. She has cruised her Dufour Arpège 30 out of Hythe Marina in England, sailing nearly 5,000 miles a year, now and then shaking a white-knuckled fist at Fastnet Rock on a passage to the fair harbors of Ireland, or waving a hasty goodbye to Ushant Island on a wind-driven - compulsive - jaunt to Santander harbor on the northern coast of Spain.

Eleanor is addicted to sailing. She has written many articles describing some of her hair-raising experiences at sea, the most infamous of which took place in the Bay of Biscay in 1994 - Force 9 and 25-foot seas, the mast about to come down, crew seasick, the diesel and the VHF dead, a roller furling genoa in ribbons and turned into screaming banshee, rocky islands and shoals looming close in the night, etc. etc.

Somehow the indefatigable, indomitable Eleanor Tims manages to emerge from such ordeals with a wave, a nod, a wink and a wicked sense of humor. Where would we all be without our sense of humor at sea?

In November 1996 Eleanor and friend Tom were sailing Moon River to the Canaries from the Moroccan harbor of Mohammedia when they ran into a gale and tried to deploy a sea anchor. What follows is a hard-won lesson that the lady would like to pass on to others:

We left Portugal for the Canaries with a favorable NE wind and decided to divert to Casablanca, Morocco, in order to break the long 600 mile leg into two stages and also to visit an "exotic" country. After leaving the harbor of Mohammedia our tack lay to the SW, but the wind, which had been from the NE for a long period, did a complete volte-face and came from the SW. I decided, nevertheless, to leave, as the forecast was for Force 5/6 and I thought that I could lay in a long tack to the NW and then to the South and perhaps the front would pass over in that time. However, things did not work out according to plan, as firstly there were very big seas running and secondly the wind increased past Force 6, to 7 and then 8. We were already becoming very tired and it was obvious that the time had come - indeed was past, as it was now dark - to put out the para-anchor.

Because it was dark, I took a long time in carefully preparing everything to ensure that is would run smoothly when launched, perhaps an hour. When I went up onto the foredeck, it was found that the deck-light was not functioning, so I had only the fitful light of a flashlight shone from the cockpit towards me. First of all I launched the pickup buoy and line, followed by the float buoy, but these were torn from my hands by the wind (nearly 40 knots) and by waves sweeping over the deck and over me. I then realized that the genoa furling line made things complicated and that I ought to have launched all this gear beneath the furling line instead of above it, so I pulled it in and tried to stuff it back into the sea under the line instead of over. Trying to do this caused a tremendous snarl-up, so I was forced into spending a long time lying sprawled on the deck in the almost continuous dark, with waves washing over me, trying to sort it all out. Eventually I decided I had it just about right and once more launched it all, following it finally with the para-anchor and 100 metres of rode. This done we turned in. However, things didn't seem right somehow. The bow was clearly not pointing into the waves, as every wave swept us over sideways, sometimes very nearly beam on, is how it felt. We were quite clearly lying ahull, and an inspection of the wind instrument confirmed that wind and waves were beam on. We passed an entirely wretched night, and were so tired the following day, with the wind steady at about 40 knots, that we were too tired to do anything much about remedying the situation. I did realize that the para-anchor hadn't opened, and as I could see both buoys close together, I also realized that the whole lot had snarled up together. We attached the rode to the [steel] anchor and let out a few metres of chain, so that it now ran out of the boat through the bow roller instead of through a deck fair-lead. This didn't improve things at all, in fact it probably worsened them, as I suffered some damage to the bow roller as a result. We had another perfectly horrible day, drifting backwards for the Strait of Gibraltar, far beyond our original starting point [more than 60 miles].

Day 3 saw me in more positive mood. "We have to get this thing in," I told Tom, so he did the muscle work. The wind was still 30+ knots and it took us about 50 minutes to bring the bundle in, and then the sad story could be seen. What had happened was that the tripping line had twisted round and round itself until it was as stiff and unwielding as a metal spring and that this metal-like mess had ensnarled with it some of the shroud lines of the para-anchor. (The latter had not opened - had just lain in the water like a lump of cloth). Later, on arriving at a harbor near Cadiz when I was able to put it all out onto a dock and try to disentangle it, I found I had to cut away the tripping line - it had practically fused into a couple of "springs." These had abraded 11 of the 12 shroud lines and had indeed broken three of them. I knew I should return it to the factory [for repairs] but I did not dare let it out of my hands. I knew I would need it again and I intended to use it again. So I took it to a local sailmaker, spread it out on his floor and we agreed as to how to repair it. He sewed some very strong sailmaker's tape into the shroud lines, restoring them all to a good state and ensuring that they were all the original length.

On Christmas day we left again for the Canaries. Same story. Weather got bad, decided to put out the para-anchor and this time to do so before dark. I had bought a new tripping line, 50 metres of floating line. This went out OK, then the float buoy.... Got the float out and the parachute. Absolutely brilliant! The bow came right round into the waves and yawed from side to side, but I could see the parachute had opened. Good, so far, I thought. I then uncleated the pickup buoy, stood up and tossed it into the sea over the pulpit. I had cleated off the anchor rode at about 20/30 metres, and was going to let more out in progressive lengths. However, I never got as far as that because in a twinkling the parachute had opened, the rode-tightened to steel-bar tautness, and, horror of horrors, not only was it leading OVER the pulpit, which folded down as if made of butter, but it was also once round the forestay and my precious furling gear. How that happened I have next to no idea because I thought I had been very careful... I think this story illustrates the dangerous effect of being tired and maybe also of being short-handed.

OK, still enough daylight, probably, to winch it in and start again. However, we were hampered by the weather conditions from doing anything at a reasonable sort of speed. Rain, like a dense monsoon, fell like rods of iron, flattening the sea, doing a sort of white-out and flattening me too! Eventually got the chute back on deck. Exhausted. And dark now. OK, why didn't I motor up to the pickup buoy and pick it up? Because as I hadn't stitched the damned knot up, just tied it to the [float-line] swivel, it had come undone and is now floating happily around the north Atlantic, trailing its new rope!

Well, it was dark, I was soaked and exhausted, and felt unable to sort out the mess of lines, so bungeed it all away and off we went into the night and Force 7/8 - increasing - big seas, 4-6 metres. Later the night turned into a nightmare. I was making very poor progress with small sails, only about 2 knots, and a ship (whose Officer on Watch was clearly not on watch as I even fired a flare) collided with us! In order to prevent the mast from falling (an upper shroud was torn away) I decided to go back - 200 miles - to Cadiz. I think I am lucky to be alive, as after that the wind increased to 40+ kn steadily, gusting up to 55, and we had to hand-steer under the most minute sails, in waves that must have been 8-10 metres high....

Somehow - by hook or by crook - Eleanor managed to outdo Neptune and bring her ship back into safe harbor at Cadiz, whence she contacted Victor Shane. Shane then passed her feedback on to Don Whilldin of Para-Tech Engineering in Colorado.

Although it would appear that in this case the para-anchor and float line assembly may have been fouled even as they hit the water, Whilldin nevertheless went to work on the design of the Deployment Bag, to see if there was any way in which he could somehow further reduce the chances of float line foul-ups. The simplest solution, of course, would have been to forego the float-line altogether. Unfortunately the float line and float are necessary to keep larger para-anchors from sinking straight down when the wind dies.

So Whilldin made a modification to the deployment bag instead. The thirty feet or so of colored float line, previously coiled outside the Deployment Bag, is now tucked into a "kangaroo pouch" under it. With this minor design change there is less chance of float line foul-ups. Whilldin reasons that once the parachute has opened up and is under stable tension the chances of float line foul-ups are greatly reduced. Likely most of those foul-ups occur in the pre-inflation stage, when the parachute is a shapeless mess of loose cloth and shrouds.

Don Whilldin sent the English lady stranded in Spain a brand new sea anchor, in appreciation of her contribution to design improvement. The redoubtable Eleanor Tims has since crossed the Atlantic.

Sea Anchors on Monohulls

S/M-35 Fast 40 Sloop

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FAST40S/M-35

Fast 40 Sloop

40' x 3 Tons, Lifting Keel

12-Ft. Dia. Sea Anchor

Force 7-8 Conditions

 

File S/M-35, obtained from Robert J. Bragan, Bethesda MD. - Vessel name Javelin, hailing port West River - Fast 40 sloop, designed by Alan Adler, LOA 40' x LWL 36' x Beam 8' x Draft 7.5' (with keel down) x 3 Tons - Lifting keel (fiberglass-encapsulated 2000 lb. lead bulb on end) - Sea anchor: 12-ft. Diameter Para-Tech on 300' x 5/8" nylon braid rode with 1/2" stainless steel swivel - No trip line - Deployed in a gale in deep water about 300 miles west of Bermuda, with winds of 30-40 knots and seas of 12-15 feet - Vessel's bow yawed 30° with riding sail on backstay - Drift was about 5 n.m. during 12 hours at sea anchor.

An ultralight ocean racer designed by Alan Adler, this yacht was one of fifteen Fast 40's built in the 1980's by North End Shipyards of Rockland, Maine. Given her narrow beam, slender profile, low displacement, and high-tech construction, she was aptly named Javelin by her owner.

En route to Bermuda in May 1996, Javelin ran into bad weather and hove to a sea anchor. After the weather moderated she got underway again. And that's when her 2000 lb. lifting keel fell off. The yacht rolled over and subsequently had to be abandoned. Rob Bragan's brief hand-written note on the back of the DDDB form reads, "the 12 ft. sea anchor performed beautifully once anchor riding sail set on backstay."

The following is a transcript of Rob Bragan's article about the incident, appearing in the September/October 1996 issue of Ocean Navigator (reproduced by permission of Ocean Navigator Magazine):

We sailed Javelin extensively on the [Chesapeake] bay in all sorts of weather, including winter gales. Experience caused us to add stand-up blocks on the cabin top for double-sheeting the trysail, as well as a 12-foot Para-Tech sea anchor, a wind vane self steering system, anchor riding sail, detachable furling system for the Yankee jib, and many other improvements. In two years I hauled the boat twice, initially for a survey that found no problems and later to fair and paint the keel and hull. The keel assembly [2000 lb. fiberglass encapsulated lead bulb] was inspected each time, but only after losing Javelin did I learn that the previous owner had found broken bolts among those that secure the Delrin blocks and had replaced all four bolts twice. (A good maintenance log might have saved the boat by recording such details for subsequent owners).

On Friday, May 24, 1996, after picking up a rented Viking life raft and an ACR Type B 121.5/243 MHz EPIRB (406 MHz units cannot be rented) from Outfitters/USA services in Annapolis, we left our mooring in Galesville, MD....

Transitioning from Chesapeake Bay sailing to ocean sailing as night fell, we left the coast behind. Our course of 150° magnetic led to a waypoint NE of Cape Hatteras where the [Gulf] stream was only 80 nautical miles wide.... A pod of 30 to 50 spotted dolphins greeted us as we entered the stream, and they stayed until a tail slapped to starboard calling them off to the south. Were they moving away from impending bad weather?

The wind strengthened from the NNE on May 30, reaching a sustained 28 to 32 knots (Force 7) at the masthead anemometer by afternoon. The sea state increased from a few feet in the morning to 10 to 15 feet with occasionally larger, breaking waves, by evening. The 65° water temperature, knotmeter, and GPS readings all suggested we were in the wrong quadrant of a cold eddy which was aggravating the sea state. We put the second drop boards in place, secured the sliding hatch and hand-steered a beam reach, turning up and over bigger waves. The back sides of some waves were as steep as the fronts, requiring another turn at the wave top to set a good angle down the back and avoid slamming the boat....

After battling the waves for hours, the prospects of further exhausting ourselves with hand steering or deploying a drogue and losing miles by running off to the SSW were unacceptable. Lying ahull or heaving to were out of the question since Javelin had been too lively in past attempts and since the steep, breaking waves could roll the boat if she were caught broadside. Our position was approximately 400 miles from Bermuda, 10 to 20 nm south of the rhumb line. It was the right time to deploy the sea anchor. I had made up a dual-purpose sea anchor/drogue bridle of 3/4 inch three strand nylon line a few weeks before that would be strong and resist chafe. The bridle, shackled to stainless steel lifting plates on the aft end of the keel case, ran forward and through the rubber bow anchor rollers, terminating in a heavy thimble clamped in place. Three hundred feet of 5/8-inch braided nylon anchor rode was now shackled between the bridle thimble and the sea anchor. Strong attachment points on the boat, chafe protection, and a long, braided elastic rode are necessary components of a sea anchor system.

Deployment involved Tim's steering us through a 150° turn to point up into the wind, at which time I fed out the sea anchor float, trip line, deployment bag, and rode from the bow. The boat immediately fell off onto port tack before Tim could drag the trysail down. I fed rode and Tim wrestled sail until finally the rode came taught and we were pulled around.... A few minutes after the messy set, we were riding to the sea anchor and Javelin began her anchor dance. She was sailing through a 90° arc, so that breaking waves threatened to throw her sideways.... Setting the 15- to 20 square-foot anchor riding sail on the backstay with double sheets led forward to the toerails reduced the boat's arc to less than 60°.... With the cockpit secured, we closed ourselves up inside the boat to rest. Both the boat and we had taken a pounding during the last 12 hours. We needed food and sleep....

The next day and a half brought NE winds at 18 to 25 knots and six-to 10-foot seas, so we recovered the sea anchor and set sail that day, continuing on through the night making good speed and staying on course. We lay to the sea anchor on the night of June 1 as the wind clocked to east and strengthened. On June 2 we again set sail, but 20 to 30 knots of wind out of the ESE nearly halted our progress, and we made only 40 nm to the south. Early that evening we again set the sea anchor to hold our position while awaiting a better wind direction. Sounds from the keel that were louder than usual caused Tim to raise it into its case for support....

We awoke on the morning of June 3 to the first beautiful day of the trip. The wind had rounded to the SW at last and moderated to 10 knots. The sky was clear for the first time, the waves were running three to five feet and we only had a couple of hundred miles to go.... We lowered the keel and put the aluminum brace back in place.... Upon recovering the sea anchor, we raised the mainsail. As it filled, the boat heeled a little... a lot... and continued to lay over until flat on her side. It happened so gently.... After pausing for a few seconds, Javelin finished turning turtle, leaving us alongside trying to comprehend what had happened in less than a minute. We climbed onto the hull and peered into the empty keel case. The four bolts that had secured the keel to the Delrin blocks on either side were sheared off, leaving the heads on one side, tails on the other, and nothing but air in between....

After getting over the initial shock, Rob Bragan and son Tim inflated the life raft and quickly resigned themselves to the serious business of survival, diving and retrieving 20 gallons of water, food, blankets etc. from Javelin's upturned hull. The EPIRB was then turned on and the raft allowed to drift free of the mothership.

A short while later they spotted a passing ship and fired off parachute flares, but it did not see them. Just before sunset however, a Coast Guard C-130 roared overhead. Crew members on the aircraft reportedly saw Javelin's upturned hull first, and Bragan reckons that they should have remained tethered to the hull for as long as possible to be easier to see. Later the Italian bulk carrier Ursa Major was diverted to the scene and plucked the waterlogged sailors out of the Atlantic.

Sea Anchors on Monohulls

S/M-31 Gauntlet, Bermudan Sloop

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BERMUDANS/M-31

Gauntlet, Bermudan Sloop

42' x 14 Tons, Full Keel

18-Ft. Dia. Sea Anchor

Force 8 Conditions

File S/M-31, obtained from R. Walton, North Gosforth, UK. - Vessel name Lady Emma Hamilton, hailing port Amble - Gauntlet, Bermudan Sloop, LOA 42' x LWL 33' x Beam 9' 6" x Draft 6' x 14 Tons - Full keel - Sea anchor: 18-ft. Diameter Para-Tech on 400' x 3/4" nylon braid rode with 5/8" stainless steel swivel - Partial trip line - Deployed in a gale in shallow water (45 fathoms) in the North Sea, about 125 miles east of Aberdeen, Scotland, with winds of 40-45 knots and seas of 28 feet - Vessel's bow yawed 20° at the peak of the gale in Force 8, increasing to 45° when the wind moderated to Force 6 - Drift was 7 n.m. upwind during 23 hours at sea anchor.

This file was forwarded to Victor Shane by Mike Seal, proprietor of Cruising Home Ltd. in the United Kingdom, to whom we are indebted.

Lady Emma Hamilton is a double-ended Bermudan Sloop, similar to Bernard Moitessier's Joshua, hailing from the Northumberland harbor of Amble (about 40 miles south of the Scottish border).

In June of '97 her owner, R. Walton, was sailing her back to Amble from Bergen, Norway, when she ran into a gale in the infamous North Sea, about 125 miles offshore, east of Aberdeen, Scotland. Walton describes the sea states as "cycloidal, steep, breaking/unstable" on the form he filled out, which is believable, given that the yacht was in only 45 fathoms of water, and that the northerly wind was blowing contrary to a northwesterly current. The average waves were about 28 feet high at the time, as measured by the crew on a nearby oil rig. Transcript:

Rode led over bow roller and tied to it. Rags were used to wrap around rode at bow fitting to stop chafe. In future I will use a leather "tube." Checked for chafe every two hours - rags wore through, but rode only very slightly scuffed. No bridle used. Once wind moderated the yaw increased, but at the peak of wind boat held almost dead into wind. We hove-to just next to an oil platform, "SANTAFE 135," which relayed a message to our destination advising our delay, etc.

Hove-to at 0600 hrs. Wind moderated by 2300 hrs, but waited till first light to haul in the anchor as this was the first time I had ever used it. Made way at 0500 hrs 28 June in Force 6 still from North. Initially our drift was imperceptible (no noticeable slide or turbulence at all! Just stayed put). But by dawn it was obvious we had drifted upwind past the oil rig, so current was overcoming drift downwind.

Throughout, the tension on the rode seemed very great. Considerable windage from 60 foot mast and [roller] furled genoa. No sail or other windage hoisted at stern. Boat motion was quite extreme, with gunnel to gunnel roll being set up, then dying down again every few minutes.

The Para-Tech sea anchor and Delta Rode were supplied by Cruising Home Ltd. UK as a complete package, with deployment bags for both (rode in Rode Bag) - they worked perfectly. I just undid the straps and the Rode Bag toggles and tossed it overboard - it all sorted itself out and within five minutes we were riding head to wind. I am totally sold on the concept! We had been pooped twice before we hove-to and the seas increased in ferocity somewhat later.

 

 

Sea Anchors on Monohulls

S/M-29 Morris Justine Sloop

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JUSTINES/M-29

Morris Justine Sloop

36' x 9 Tons, Low Aspect Fin/Skeg

15-Ft. Dia. Sea Anchor

Force 9 Conditions

 

File S/M-29, obtained from Robert K. Gwin, Jr., Orange Park, FL. - Vessel name Osprey, hailing port Jacksonville, Morris Justine sloop, designed by Chuck Paine, LOA 36' x LWL 30' x Beam 12' 6" x Draft 4' 9" x 9 Tons - Low aspect fin keel & skeg rudder -

Sea anchor: 15-ft. Diameter Para-Tech on 300' x 5/8" nylon three strand rode with 5/8" stainless steel swivel - No trip line - Deployed in a whole gale in shallow water (100 fathoms) about 300 miles ESE of Jacksonville, with winds of 45-50 knots and seas of 15-20 feet - Vessel's bow yawed 20°

Like so may other case histories the benefit that Osprey derived from her sea anchor was all too brief. The rode chafed through. Transcript:

We actually did not deploy our sea anchor until the storm had peaked and perhaps began dropping. The storm had been building the previous day and we had hove-to the previous evening under storm staysail and double-reefed main. The boat rode fairly well under this configuration, but there was a lot of movement and about 2:00 AM we took a 80-90° knockdown which carried away our deck-mounted life raft and did some other damage.

We remained below until sunlight and decided to deploy the sea anchor to stabilize the boat. We lowered the stays'l and deployed it as instructed. It filled fairly quickly and appeared to have a quieting effect on the boat's motion. Unfortunately the rode was chafing on the bow roller next to the anchor due to the movement of the boat (¸ 20° yaw + more when the boat was hit by a cross sea). Attempts to re-route the rode resulted in the rode and the sea anchor being lost.

Comments:

1) The primary anchor had not been stowed before going offshore, so the bow roller was not available for use, and the anchor caused chafing.

2) A practice run had not been done.

3) Insufficient chafe gear was available for use. We did notice that there was no jerkiness or surging with the anchor deployed. The tension on the rode was terrific.

Sea Anchors on Monohulls

S/M-26 Bristol Sloop

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CDORYS/M-26

Bristol Sloop

27' x 3.5 Tons, Full Keel

9-Ft. Dia. Sea Anchor

Force 8-9 Conditions

File S/M-26, obtained from Bud Clay, Pensacola, FL. - Vessel name Miracle, hailing port Pensacola, Bristol sloop designed by Carl Alberg, LOA 27' x LWL 22' x Beam 8' x Draft 4' x 3.5 Tons - Full keel - Sea anchor: 9-ft. Diameter Para-Tech on 80' x 1/2" nylon three strand rode with 1/2" stainless steel swivel - No trip line - Deployed in a low system in deep water in the Gulf of Mexico about 150 miles NW of Tampa with winds of 35-45 knots and seas of 9 feet - Vessel's bow yawed 30-45° during 14 hours at sea anchor.

Miracle, a full-keeled Bristol 27, was en route to Pensacola from Tarpon Springs (300 miles as the crow flies across the Gulf of Mexico) when she ran into a cold front in the month of June! Bud Clay told Victor Shane that a friend had loaned him the para-anchor, "just in case." At any rate, when the wind switched and started building right on the nose Clay beat into it for a couple of nights and a day.

Being shorthanded, tired and sleep-starved he deployed the para-anchor at three in the afternoon of the next day. He spent the night at sea anchor, managing to get some sleep in between trips forward to check for chafe. He felt somewhat rested up by next morning, at which time the wind and seas subsided and he was able to get underway again. Clay, who is now building a 31-ft. Farriar trimaran, told Shane that he would never go offshore without a sea anchor.

Sea Anchors on Monohulls

S/M-19 Aloha 30 Sloop

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ALOHAS/M-19

Aloha 30 Sloop

30' x 3.5 Tons, Fin Keel

9-Ft. Dia. Sea Anchor

Force 8-9 Conditions

 

File S/M-19, obtained from Richard Brooker, Winnipeg, Canada - Vessel name Crocodile Rock, hailing port Winnipeg, Aloha 30 sloop designed by Ron Holland, LOA 30' x LWL 26' x Beam 10' x Draft 6' x 3.5 Tons - Fin keel - Sea anchor: 9-ft. diameter Para-Tech on 400' x 1/2" nylon three strand with 3/8" swivel - Deployed in shallow water (50 fathoms) about 30 miles off the Oregon coast, NW of the mouth of the Columbia River, in a low system with winds of 40-45 knots and seas of 10 feet - Vessel's bow yawed 20° - Drift was 4 n.m. during 18 hours at sea anchor.

No written feedback accompanied the completed DDDB form. In answering the question, "How many degrees did this vessel yaw from side to side?" the owner has checked the "20°" box and written the words "very stable" next to it.

Sea Anchors on Monohulls

S/M-14 Carol Sloop

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DEANNAS/M-14

Carol Sloop

24' 6" x 2.7 Tons, Full Keel

9-Ft. Dia. BUORD Sea Anchor

Force 6-7 Conditions

 

File S/M-14, obtained from Walter Keintzel, Monterey, CA. - Vessel name Deanna, hailing port Monterey, "Carol" double-ender designed by Chuck Paine, LOA 24' 6" x LWL 20' x Beam 9' x Draft 3' 6" x 2.7 Tons - Full keel - Sea anchor: 9-ft. diameter BUORD on 300' x 1/2" nylon three strand with 1/2" galvanized swivel - Deployed in deep water off the central coast of California in low system with winds of 30 knots and seas of 10 feet - Vessel's bow yawed up to 80° - Drift was about 7 miles during 11 hours at sea anchor.

Victor Shane had the opportunity to take a close look at Deanna when she was moored in Santa Barbara harbor. This little pocket cruiser has a flush deck, with very low freeboard and a large full keel beneath. When Deanna is lying a-hull she is more or less anchored to the surface of the ocean by virtue of her big keel alone. Her rate of drift is further reduced because of her low freeboard. In general a yacht has to drift, to tug at a sea anchor, to cause it to fully inflate and function properly. In 60-knots of wind the same BUORD would have done a better job on this boat. A much larger parachute, say a 24-ft. diameter military chest reserve, would likely have pulled Deanna's bow up much higher into the wind as well, even in the given 30 knots. Here is a transcript of the feedback obtained from Walter Keintzel:

Location was 55 miles true west of Pt. Sal, measured by the Loran. I don't recall the barometer reading, but it was "normal." Don't recall the wave length & period, because when I deployed the sea anchor at 20:00 hrs. I was very, very exhausted & numb.

We lay at 80° to the nylon rode - almost parallel to the seas. I think this is because my flush-decked boat got lost in the troughs - not enough windage! With a riding sail on the back stay, I think it would work. As it was, it wasn't too bad.

Mainly the anchor kept me in place for a stormy night, and kept my physical condition from deteriorating to the point where I needed to call the Coast Guard. Next day I ran into Morro Bay for rest & repairs.

I'm very grateful for the parachute anchor. It was easy to deploy, but next time I'll certainly use a 300' trip line. Retrieval was like pulling a VW for fifty minutes!

Sea Anchors on Monohulls

S/M-13 Bristol Channel Cutter

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BCHANNELS/M-13

Bristol Channel Cutter

26' x 7 Tons, Full Keel

9-Ft. Dia. BUORD Sea Anchor

Force 8 Conditions

 

File S/M-13, obtained from Gary Kaye, Sidney B.C. - Vessel name Mintaka II, hailing port Vancouver B.C., designed by Lyle Hess, LOA 37' (with long bowsprit) x LWL 26' x Beam 10' x Draft 5' x 7 Tons - Full keel - Sea anchor: 9-ft. diameter BUORD on 300' x 5/8" nylon three strand rode with 1/2" galvanized swivel - No trip line - Deployed in a whole gale in deep water approx. 140 miles west of Coos Bay (Oregon coast) with wind sustained at 40 knots and seas of 20 ft. - Use of the "Pardey Bridle" arrangement held the bow 50° off the wind. Drift was estimated to be about 50 n.m. during 52 hours at sea anchor.

In August 1987 Mintaka, a Lyle Hess designed Bristol Channel Cutter, was headed for San Francisco from Victoria B.C., when she ran into a whole gale at about latitude 44° N, longitude 127° W, (some 140 nautical miles west of the Oregon Coast). Gary and Sandi Kaye deployed a 9-ft. diameter BUORD parachute, using the Pardey bridling method (see files S/M-3, 4). All told, this traditionally designed, heavily built cruising yacht was hove-to for 52 hours, the wind sustained at 40 knots and seas of 20 feet.

Since there were no written notes, opinions or observations accompanying the DDDB form that Victor Shane received from these intrepid sailors, it was likely a matter of routine seamanship. Victoria, has a rich seafaring history. It is the hailing port of Taleisin, as well as a number of other boats in this database. It is inspiring to find boats like Mintaka following in the Voss/Pardey tradition of safe voyaging under mast and canvas. When one of these boats get into heavy weather the crew members are not wanting for a tactic. They heave-to, ride out the storm, and quietly resume their cruising.