File D/T-8, obtained from Warren L. Thomas, Charleston, SC. - Vessel name Lady Blue Falcon, hailing port Charleston, Lodestar trimaran designed by Arthur Piver, LOA 35' x Beam 20' x Draft 2' x 3.5 Tons - Drogue: 4-ft. Diameter cone, custom-made from heavy mesh (porous) material on 250' x 5/8" nylon three strand tether, with bridle arms of 60' each and bronze swivel - Deployed in an unnamed hurricane about 300 miles north of Bermuda with sustained winds of 80 knots and breaking seas of 30 ft. and greater - Vessel's stern yawed 30° and more with the owner steering.
To quote the immortal words of K. Adlard Coles in Heavy Weather Sailing, "When the wind rises to Force 10 or more and the gray beards ride over the ocean, we arrive at totally different conditions, and for yachts it is battle for survival, as indeed it sometimes may be for big ships." In July 1990, Lady Blue Falcon, one of Arthur Piver's original "Lodestar" designs, was off the northern coast of Maine sailing to Charleston, South Carolina, when she became entwined in a cyclonic system with sustained hurricane-force winds - an unnamed, minor hurricane. What followed was five days of sheer terror for the singlehanded sailor on board, Warren Thomas. The boat was driven without mercy round all points of the compass, eventually finding herself back in Halifax, Nova Scotia.
The only drag device on board was a 4-ft. diameter cone, custom made from some sort of tightly knit, porous, nylon mesh material. Thomas deployed it off the stern on 250' of tether and a bridle with 60-ft. arms attached to the outboard sterns of the floats. The bridle would not allow the boat to be steered freely, a major disadvantage in Thomas' opinion. In the chaos that followed, Warren Thomas tried quartering the seas by bringing both bridle arms to one float. This turned out to be a bad idea - made things much worse. To compound matters, the cone would completely pull out of the water at times, allowing the boat to lurch ahead at incredible speeds. The whole experience was traumatic and Thomas' recollection of the details are hazy - "due to complete blank of mind & loss of charts & notes" (to quote Thomas). Transcript:
I used the drogue off the stern of my Piver Lodestar in a mild hurricane 300 miles north of Bermuda, approx. 360 miles east of Cape Cod. Got blown 570 miles in 5 days, running completely out of control. Drogue's bridle would NOT let me steer at high speeds of 22 knots on 2-3 minute continuous runs. (Once rode a gale in Albermorle Sound with 45-55 knots for thirteen hours. It was a walk in the park compared to this.)
Seas in excess of 25 ft. but running faster than HELL! Wave patterns rather organized but about every hour a series of oddballs would come. I could hand-steer them, except at night when I could not see them coming. All this under bare poles. I was alone, scared and just hanging on. It was the biggest horror of my life. The sea won the war! Cannot erase the fury from my mind. First time that I have ever cried like a baby, I believe just from nerves.... Eating raw Taster's Choice right out of the coffee jar.... Wind blew all around compass. Was hovering around 80, gusts exceeding 100. I knew I was going to die. Just did not know when. Mr. tough-guy did die out there. Now only a cautious, humble sailor remains. Took two years to shed the fear and exchange it for a healthy respect for the sea. Am sure I am alive today because of luck only. If I had had a para-anchor I would still have needed luck, but I would have been rested enough to appreciate it!
File D/T-7, obtained from Philip & Marilyn Lange, Longwood, FL. - Vessel name Kuan-Yin, hailing port St. Augustine, trimaran, designed by Jim Brown, LOA 37' x Beam 22' x Draft 6' 11" (3' 6" board up) x 7.5 Tons - Drogue: Jordan series, 120 x 5" diameter cones on 200 x 3/4" & 5/8" nylon braid tether, with bridle arms of 75' each and 10' of 5/8" chain at the end of the array - Deployed in a gale in deep water about 500 miles east of the Bahamas with winds of 35-45 knots and seas of 20-30 ft. - Vessel's stern yawed 10° - Drift was 18 nm during 46 hours of deployment.
Kuan-Yin was en route to Virgin Gorda, British Virgin Islands, from St. Augustine, Florida, when she ran into a gale. Philip and Marilyn Lange deployed a Jordan concept series drogue consisting of 120 x 5-inch cones. The drogue was homemade, with instructions received from Donald Jordan himself. See also Marilyn Lange's technical article and illustrations on how to fabricate a series drogue with an ordinary sewing machine, appearing in the March/April 1997 issue of Multihulls Magazine (back issues available from MULTIHULLS MAGAZINE, 421 Hancock St., Quincy MA 02171 - Tel: 617-328-8181). Transcript:
This was Kuan-Yin's maiden sea passage - and first long passage for captain & mate. Our gale was never mentioned throughout its duration on HF WWV! We were not prepared in advance. Wife/mate assembled Jordan series drogue components in our center cockpit and threaded bridle through aft snatchblocks (#3 Lewmars) and around transom, while I steered to avoid broaching. (Her Lirakis harness saved her at least once.) We used 10 feet of 5/8" chain as the weight on the end of the drogue. The Jordan series drogue deployed easily, and immediately slowed us down from 8 knots to 1.6 knots under bare poles. Our strongly-built stern lifted easily and smoothly to the oncoming waves. An occasional breaking wave dumped several quarts of seawater in, around the [stern castle] window gasket. Although the rushing and pounding noises were terrific below, we were able to rest because the movement of the boat was quite regular and predictable. We set a timer to remind us to freshen the nip [let out a few inches of line to shift the wear point and minimize chafe] and wrapped towels around potential chafe points on the bridle as it led to the Anderson 40 winches mounted on either side of our stern companionway.
The pressure on the drogue line alternated rhythmically between the two arms of the bridle - the tension was surprisingly light and the bridle winches could be adjusted easily. Our Autohelm wheel was bent when our first efforts to secure the rudder with line worked loose. The cheeks of our snatch blocks took a lot of wear. It took both of us to haul in the drogue hand-over-hand. Other than one wear point on the bridle it was in perfect condition!
File D/T-6, obtained from Donald Longfellow, Garden Grove, CA. - Vessel name Take Five, hailing port Ventura, CA, Searunner trimaran designed by Jim Brown, LOA 31' x Beam 18' x Draft 6' (3' board up) x 2.2 Tons - Drogue: Australian Sea Squid on 130' x 7/16" nylon braid tether with bridle arms of 30' each - Deployed in Papaguyo winds in 100 fathoms of water about 30 miles off the coast of Nicaragua, with winds of 30-35 knots and seas of 8-10 ft. - Vessel's stern yawed 20° with autopilot steering - Speed was reduced to about 5 knots during 18 hours of deployment.
Another reminder that the Australian Sea Squid is no longer available. Transcript:
The Sea Squid was deployed 18 hours after leaving Costa Rica and approximately 30 n.m. off the coast of Nicaragua. The seas had grown during the night as my distance offshore grew, and by morning I was becoming concerned about the way the occasional cross waves would knock the stern 40 degrees sideways to the primary wave track as the boat accelerated down wave faces. Neither the electronic nor the mechanical autopilot was quick enough to correct this and I was in no mood to start hand steering. Still, I didn't feel safe risking the boat getting beam-to on the wave faces, especially when it was traveling at over 6 knots. Top speeds down some wave faces were 8-10 kts (double-reefed main up, sailing almost dead downwind.) I didn't want to go bare poles, but I wanted speeds kept under 6 kts. and the yawing reduced. It seemed like an appropriate time to baptize the Sea Squid (it was already hooked up, ready to go).
Over the side it went with no noticeable shock when the line went taut. The effect was immediate and quite apparent, speed down wave faced maxed at 6 kts. (curious though, my ambient speed remained nearly the same as before, 4-5 kts.versus 4-6 kts). Yawing was noticeably reduced. The self steering was now able to handle conditions, allowing me to get much needed rest (singlehanding). Occasionally the Sea Squid would briefly pull free when it was on a wave face. This removed tension on the bridle with unfavorable results. It wasn't a major problem, but I felt it could have been under heavier conditions. Seems to me this could be rectified with the addition of some chain to the drogue's line. There was a Galerider drogue aboard, but I never used it during that trip. It is one size larger than the company recommends for my boat displacement (36" dia. instead of 30"). If I had encountered heavier conditions than the one above, I would have used the Galerider instead of the Sea Squid. There is no doubt in my mind that the sea conditions on that day presented only two reasonable options for my boat: para-anchor, or running down the swells. I would no sooner leave on a cruise without my para-anchor and drogues than I would leave without secondary anchors and heavier headsails.
File D/T-5, obtained from Michael Redvers Golding, Slough, UK. - Vessel name Gazelle, hailing port Poole, Dorset, modified Stripling 28 trimaran designed by Derek Kelsall, LOA 30' x Beam 24' x Draft 4' (12" board up) x 1 Ton - Drogue: Custom-made 18" diameter cone on 200' x 5/8" nylon braid tether, with bridle arms of 40' each - Full trip line - Deployed in a whole gale in mid-Atlantic with winds of 40-50 knots and seas of 30 ft. - Vessel's stern yawed 20° with the helm lashed - Drift was estimated to be about 25 nm during 10 hours of deployment.
Transoceanic racing skipper Mike Redvers Golding has been in many offshore gales. In 1989 his slender racing trimaran Gazelle came to grief off the Shetland Isles during the Round Britain Race. In an article appearing in the December 1989 issue of Multihull, he recounts the harrowing events that led to the loss of his boat (reproduced courtesy of Multihull):
We were only 20 miles off the Shetlands, a lee shore, and 30 miles from our turning point, the infamous Muckle Flugga. Once round the headland we could head off south toward Lerwick.... I would normally have lain to the drogue in these conditions but the lee shore was far too close for comfort. We had spent some time beating, which although painful felt very safe until we could no longer climb the mounting seas.... The noise level rose to fever pitch as Gazelle was picked up by another nasty sea.... It was a slow sickening roll, not at all what I had imagined, with a crash as the port float met the water.... Water rushed below, filling the boat to chest level.... Then came the immortal words, "We've capsized."
Golding and first mate activated the EPIRB and took to a life raft. They were later picked up by a Scottish Search And Rescue helicopter and taken to Lerwick. In the same article Golding writes, "Our proximity to land prevented me from lying to the drogue, although I am sure that this would have prevented the capsize, having ridden out storms with Gazelle which were of equal magnitude, although in the open ocean." Victor Shane contacted Michael Redvers Golding about his previous use of the drogue and Golding then sent the following for inclusion in the DDDB. The drogue was an 18-inch diameter cone, custom made by a sailmaker. Mike used it in an Atlantic gale while participating in the 1988 CSTAR. The cone reduced the speed of the lightweight (2,000 lb.) trimaran from more than 12 knots to about 2.5 knots, with steering generally unnecessary. Transcript:
I have experimented with many methods of lying a-hull and lying to drogues, and must confess that I have reached no definitive conclusion. For simplicity I now consider that there are three basic weather conditions which the skipper must prepare for:
1) HEAVY. It is my opinion that in the event that the weather is unlikely to deteriorate further it is often the safest course of action to sail on with a well prepared boat, an alert helmsman and a linear reduction in sail area.
2) SEVERE. With a multihull it is often necessary to only take the edge off the most extreme turns of speed. In this situation it is prudent to tow warps or lay to a drogue over the stern, which slows the boat to an acceptable speed, preventing surges and reducing the risk of tripping.
3) SURVIVAL. When conditions reach the ultimate for a given craft it seems logical that a strong sea anchor system with a bridle over the bows is the best of a bad lot. As you know survival conditions are rare, though consideration must be given when setting up the boat in the previous category as to whether or not the situation will deteriorate to survival condition, as re-organizing the boat may be both difficult and dangerous.
I will state again that it is my confirmed opinion that Gazelle would not have capsized had we been lying to the drogue. At the time we were too close to a lee shore and the drogue we carried would have only slowed us to around 2.5-3 knots. No doubt there are sea anchors which could have slowed us further, however I doubt that my decision would be much different taking all the factors into account.
Victor Shane forwarded literature on para-anchors to Golding. Had Gazelle been equipped with such a device she would probably have been able to stand off the lee shore, the currents off the Shetlands permitting. The 43-ft. catamaran Ariel did as much in file S/C-6A.
File D/T-4, obtained from B.J. Watkins, Arnold, MD. - Vessel name Heart, hailing port Richmond VA, Val ocean racing trimaran designed by Richard Newick, LOA 31' x Beam 26' x Draft 5' (2' 5" board up) x 1.5 Tons - Drogue: 4-Ft. Diameter cone (unknown make) on 200' x 1/2" nylon braid tether, with bridle arms of 75' each and 1/2" galvanized swivel - Deployed in a whole gale in deep water about 300 miles NE of Bermuda with winds of 40-50 knots and seas of 20 ft. - Vessel's stern yawed excessively - Damage and risk of capsize lead to the abandonment of the boat.
In order for a medium-pull drogue to take greater control bridle should be attached to the extreme outboard ends of the floats. (Review also Figs. 22, 23 in Section 4 for options relating to the attachment points of low-pull drogues that may require hand steering).
B.J. Watkins was singlehandedly sailing Heart from Annapolis to England to participate in the 1988 C-STAR (Carlsberg Singlehanded Trans Atlantic Race). Her intent was to become the first American woman ever to finish that race. "That is not what happened, unfortunately," writes B.J. in an article entitled The Agony of a Premature Defeat (March/April '88 issue of Multihulls Magazine).
B.J. departed Annapolis on 9 April 1988. On the third or fourth day out the boat hit something, damaging the rudder. A week later, 380 miles NE of Bermuda, Heart ran into a whole gale. B.J. set a 4-ft. diameter, conical drogue - unknown make - off the stern.
While the cone was too small to pull the bows into the seas (B.J. had tried that once and the boat just laid beam-to), by all tokens it should have done a good job of pulling the stern into the seas. But it did not. Why not? Likely because of the incorrect attachments points of the bridle. Heart was practically identical to Galliard (file D/T-2), both trimarans being Newick Val 31s. The difference was that Tom Follett deployed a 5-ft. diameter Shewmon with a bridle leading to the extreme outboard ends of the floats, whereas B.J. deployed a 4-ft. cone with a bridle secured to chain plates located on the cross-arms, inboard and forward.
The cone may have been on the wrong part of the wave train as well. In order to keep the stern aligned into the full blown gale B.J. found that she had actively to steer the Val trimaran. The pull of the drogue was not constant. Now and then the yacht would surf down the face of the steeper waves. To steer risked further damage to the rudder. To not steer risked a broach and possible capsize. The barometer kept falling. Components began failing. The seas built up and finally started to break over the small trimaran.
The situation became untenable and B.J. had no alternative but to turn on the EPIRB (Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon). She was taken off the crippled trimaran by the Dutch container ship Charlotte Lykes.
B.J. Watkins had spend about $50,000 in preparing her boat, which was uninsured once it was 200 miles from the U.S. coast - a bitter loss. A transcript of the DDDB feedback submitted by B.J. Watkins follows. It includes portions of related correspondence with Donald Jordan (by permission):
I have enclosed a copy of the correspondence I had with Donald Jordan. I hope this is helpful. Mr. Jordan and I have reached the conclusion that the reason the sea anchor did not pull the stern to the seas was because of the location of the attachment points. We feel that they were too far forward on the boat and too far inboard....
[From the Jordan correspondence]: I cannot tell you exactly what size drogue I had. It was a cone shape, approximately 4 feet in diameter at the widest point. It was original equipment which came with Heart, so I do not know the exact measurements. I had attached snatch blocks to half-inch "D" shackles whose pins formed the pins for the turnbuckles on the mast rig. The bridle lines ran through the snatch blocks to the primary winches. I am at a loss to explain why the boat did not ride stern to the wind. My experience with Heart prior to rigging with the wing mast was interesting. I had on a previous occasion deployed the sea anchor from the bow of the main hull, no bridle. This was done in Long Island Sound, 50-knot winds, 5-8 foot seas, no bridle. Heart laid beam to the seas at that time. We had the board up but the rudder was in place. Dick Newick suggested that possibly if we had raised the rudder we might have then set bow-to. The action of the sea anchor at that time prompted me to investigate further. We added the bridle and decided to try stern-to.... I agree that the best arrangement is to attach the bridle to special reinforced fitting provided at the aft ends of the amas.
UPDATE: Two years later B.J. Watkins and her teammate Boots Parker were participants in the 1990 Two Handed Transatlantic Race on the 45-ft. Peter Spronk catamaran Skyjack. On their way to England they lost both rudders (the shafts had been fabricated out of aluminum instead of stainless steel). And, while attempting to limp to the Azores on one spare rudder they ran into two Force 8 gales!
However, this time B.J. had an 18-ft. diameter Para-Tech sea anchor on board. In the second gale she deployed it. The orange parachute pulled the bows of Skyjack into the teeth of the gale, parking the boat and minimizing damage.
In a subsequent telephone conversation with Victor Shane, B.J. said that the parachute sea anchor performed in a most satisfactory way - it was a morale booster and it allowed them to "call time out" in a difficult situation.
File D/T-3, obtained from Thomas Follett, Orange City, FL. - Vessel name Rogue Wave, Maxi ocean racing trimaran designed by Richard Newick, LOA 60' x Beam 34' x Draft 8' (board down) x 8 Tons - Drogue: 5-Ft. Diameter Shewmon (sea anchor) on 100' x 3/4" nylon braid rode. - No bridle - Deployed in a gale in shallow water (50-60 fathoms) about 80 miles west of Tunisia with winds of 50 knots and unstable seas of 15 ft. - Vessel's stern lay at a 25° angle during 36 hours of deployment with very little drift.
This is the second of two major reports obtained from veteran delivery skipper Tom Follett (see also previous file). The occasion of this file led to the publication of the Shewmon Paper, Sea Anchor - Rode Tactics (1986, Shewmon, Inc.)
Multihull sailors may recall that Rogue Wave once belonged to the late, great Phil Weld, whose previous 60-ft. trimaran Gulfstreamer was capsized by a rogue wave in the Atlantic, later to be picked up by the Russian ship Boreas and taken to Odessa, where she collected dust for many years. Some time after Phil passed away, Rogue Wave was purchased by a wealthy individual of the United Arab Emirates. Tom Follett and crew were delivering the big tri when the incident occurred.
Rogue Wave departed Almerimar, Spain, in February, bound for Sidi-bu-Said, Tunisia. Two days later and some 100 miles north of the African coast - in shallow water - she ran into an Arifi (a cousin of the Scirocco), packing 45-50 knot winds. The waves were about 15 ft. high and 200 ft. from crest to crest. Rogue Wave was doing about 10 knots on bare poles with her 117 sq. ft. wingmast feathered when the 5-ft. diameter Shewmon sea anchor was jettisoned over the stern.
The crew had led about 100 feet of the rode through some deck hardware to three cockpit winches, thinking that they could let out more line afterwards. When the sea anchor took hold it brought the huge trimaran to a jarring halt, yanking some minor hardware out of the deck. The three cockpit winches held, however.
Tremendous tension was noted in the rode, "too great to risk paying out any more line after we got the thing made fast," quoting Follett. Notwithstanding, the sea anchor held the stern into the seas for 36 hours, until the storm abated. According to Shewmon, "When the sea anchor was retrieved, many of its longitudinal seams were found ruptured despite its tug-tested 10,000 lb. pull rating. The wind force on the boat was well under 1,000 lbs., so what caused the other 9,000 lbs. of pull?" Dan Shewmon then draws from Bowditch table 3303 showing that the circular surface water particulate speed for the reported 15-ft. waves must have been 3 knots.
Orbital rotation can cause extreme high loads in the case of large sea anchors, or small ones used as medium pull drogues.
When the boat was moving downwind on a crest at 3 knots the sea anchor must have been moving upwind at 3 knots in the adjacent trough. This adds up to a divergence of 6 knots, "which explains the missing 9,000 lbs. and the ripped out hardware and ruptured seams." (Quoting from the Shewmon paper, Sea Anchor - Rode Tactics.) The trouble appears to have been caused by a rode that was too short. Had the crew tied off 400-500' of rode (instead of only 100') the initial shock and the subsequent system loads would have been a great deal less. (Walter Greene seems to have run into a similar problem in File D/C-1).
Rogue Wave spent a few weeks in Tunis and then departed for Crete. About 100 miles from Sicily she ran into a Gregale (a cousin of the Mistral). This time Follett used a smaller, 3-ft. diameter Shewmon drogue. Transcript:
About a hundred miles or so east of Sicily, we streamed our smaller (3-ft. diam.) Shewmon drogue in an easterly wind of Force 7, in order to avoid plugging to windward. Worked much better. Lots of shipping about and we could maneuver with the engine whenever necessary [drogue in tow]. Didn't stop us but slowed us down a lot and was very comfortable. Not nearly as much strain (of course the wind was only about Force 7) and we could easily vary the length of the rode.
EPILOGUE: Tom Follett passed away shortly after Victor Shane obtained invaluable feedback from him. He was a close friend of Richard Newick and delivered many of Dick's fantastic wind machines to exotic places all over the world. During his lifetime he made fifteen Atlantic crossings and numerous other passages, successfully negotiating a variety of heavy weather situations in monohulls and multihulls.
Tom knew the sea. He could discern subtle differences between gales and compensate for them ahead of time. He knew when to heave-to in a H-28 monohull and when to deploy a drogue on a 60-ft. racing trimaran. We are very fortunate that just before passing he left some of his priceless knowledge to us.
File D/T-2, obtained from Thomas Follett, Orange City, FL. - Vessel name Galliard, Val ocean racing trimaran designed by Richard Newick, LOA 31' x Beam 26' x Draft 5' (2' 5" board up) x 1.5 Tons - Drogue: 5-Ft. diameter Shewmon (sea anchor) on 200' x 5/8" nylon braid tether, with bridle arms of 80' each and 1/2" galvanized swivel - Deployed in a whole gale in deep water about 300 miles east of Cape Cod, with winds of 45-50 knots and seas of 12-15 ft. - Vessel's stern yawed 10-20° during 48 hours of deployment.
This is one of several files Victor Shane was able to obtain from Thomas Follett. Follett delivered hundreds of boats all over the world. In February 1985 Follett and crew were delivering Galliard, a Newick Val 31 ocean racing trimaran, to Villa Mora, Portugal, from Vineyard Haven, Massachusetts when they ran into a heavy gale some 300 miles east of Cape Cod. Follett deployed a 5-ft. diameter Shewmon sea anchor off the stern - in drogue fashion. The boat was hove to the Shewmon for 48 hours, during which time the sea anchor must have withstood over 40,000 wave cycles. Transcript:
A crew of two and heavy load of stores. Boat was essentially a daysailor and not suitable for the North Atlantic in October, and we ended up returning to Norfolk. About 300 miles ESE of Cape Cod a NE breeze came up and increased to Force 8 or 9 with rough seas. Streamed a 5' drogue with a bridle to the stern ends of both amas [floats]. Bit of nuisance with the stern of the aka [main hull] jutting out and all cluttered up with antennas and with a spade rudder hanging down. Managed to get part of the bridle under the rudder at one time and this took some time to sort out. Unlike Rogue Wave [see file D/T-3] there was not enough windage on Galliard. Finally had to set a storm jib in order to reduce the tendency to surge forward and then snap back, as though tethered to a rubber band. Caused the drogue to collapse after a time and we had to reel it in for a sorting out. In general, however, we lay quite comfortably about 20° off the wind and very few seas broke aboard in spite of the heavy load of stores and crew. No damage to the drogue, except for the swivel, which got crosswise somehow.
Before 1981, Tom Follett was using warps and other makeshift drag devices during his deliveries. Typically the setup consisted of two lengths of rode, with a bit of sail or chain in the bight. The arrangement proved itself quite satisfactory when Follett was delivering lightweight multihulls. Here is a transcript of a report involving one such occasion:
Vessel name, Bonifaccio, 41-ft. trimaran designed by Dick Newick and built by Damien McLaughlin for a French owner to sail in the Double-Handed Trans Atlantic Race from Plymouth, England, to Newport, R.I. in 1980. Used warps (3/4" braided nylon) from both ama sterns with a 10-ft. piece of 1" chain in the bight. Each warp was about 200 ft. Wind about Force 8 from SW (blowing us in the right direction, i.e., towards Plymouth) with heavy rain. Rough sea. One part of the bridle led through a snatch block on the Ama stern and back to a cockpit winch. Very easy to handle the whole mess and the boat rode very easily. Not necessary to steer. Fresh breeze only lasted one night and we were back in gear about noon the next day. Fair amount of drift. About 2 knots, more or less.
General comments: The trimaran configuration makes the use of a bridle difficult when streaming a drogue off the stern. If one could get around to setting things up with the wind about Force 4, life would be easier. But unfortunately it's often Force 8 or more before one gets around to it. Then the difficulties are magnified and one often ends up doing it all wrong. The ideal system would be one which is easy to sort out, does not put too much strain on the boat or fittings and holds the boat fairly steady while riding easily. Not exactly compatible factors.
File D/T-1, obtained from Sir Peter Blake, Auckland, NZ - Vessel name Steinlager, hailing port Auckland, Maxi racing trimaran designed by David Allan Williams, LOA 60' x Beam 52' x Draft 5' x 5.5 Tons - Drogue: Seabrake Mk I on 300' x 3/4" nylon braid rode and 30' of ½" chain - No bridle - Deployed numerous times in the Bicentennial Round Australia Two-Handed Race with winds of 55-70 knots and large, confused seas - Vessel's stern yawed 10°.
Sir Peter Blake is one of the most experienced sailors on the planet earth (500,000 blue water miles). His heavy weather experiences span the entire gamut of gales and storms on board every conceivable type of small craft both monohulled and multihulled. Victor Shane had the privilege of interviewing Peter on the telephone just after his team won the America's Cup on the New Zealand yacht Black Magic in May 1995, in San Diego. The interview revolved around a number of subjects. Here is a transcript (by permission):
The 1988 Round Australia Race: The Bicentennial Round Australia Two-Handed race started on the 8th of August 1988 from Sydney to Sydney [anti clockwise], with a number of stops in between. You go up inside the Barrier Reef to start, go round through Torres Strait to Darwin, down the Indian Ocean to Fremantle, and then come along the Great Bight of Australia to Adelaide, down to Hobart, back up the east coast of Tasmania, back through the Bass Strait towards Melbourne, and then through the Bass Strait again up to Sydney.
The Seabrake [MK I] was used in the first storm, which occurred within the first twelve hours of the race. We had winds of 55-60 knots from dead behind against very big seas because of a south going current. The wind was southerly and the set was going south so it built very big seas. We used the Seabrake again between Fremantle and Adelaide, across the bottom of Australia. We used it with a vengeance there and it definitely saved the boat and the crew in a full force winter storm coming in from the Southern Ocean. We used it again between Adelaide and Hobart, along the bottom of Tasmania, again with a severe weather front coming through, and then later on we used it again between Melbourne and Sydney, just coming up round the corner from the Bass Strait turning north. On this occasion we were beating into it with reduced sail when my partner Mike Quilter suddenly yelled at me as I was down below getting ten minutes of sleep. He said, "come up quick," and in about two minutes the wind went from 25 knots northerly to about 50 knots southerly. And so the Seabrake went over the transom straight away, no sails set, and the sea still coming from the north, but the southerly wind was driving us hard into those sea, so if we hadn't slowed the boat down I think it would have broken up.
The worst case scenarios were on two different occasions. One was on the day we started the race [8 August], and if I hadn't had the Seabrake I wouldn't be talking to you now, probably. And the other occasion was the day and a half before the finish, when I think if we hadn't had the Seabrake there was no way we could have slowed the boat and the lightweight racing trimaran would probably have self-destructed, again because the wind changed and we were being driven headlong into northerly seas by a 50-knot wind from the south. These were very big breaking seas, real breaking waves collapsing down their full fronts.
Using the Seabrake without a bridle the trimaran steered very well [without autopilot]. We pulled the centerboard up and the boat basically blew down wind with the Seabrake off the back. It was really great, no keel to trip over, no roll, no yaw, nothing, just straight downwind, fantastic. Multihulls are very good like that, much better than monohulls. No need for bridle, just a single tow line coming to a great big winch.
In extreme conditions an improperly positioned drogue may come flying out of a steep wave face when boat is surfing down another steep wave face. Positioning the drogue on the back of the next wave will help prevent this. The use of chain next to the drogue will help as well.
The drogue pulling out: On a few occasions we found that when we started to surf very hard the Seabrake broke free of the seaface behind. Depending on if we had it at the right distance behind the boat or not, it sometimes broke free and nearly caught the boat up. I mean it came whistling through the air like a rocket and we severely damaged the first one and replaced it with another, which we then tied all our anchor chain to, between the rope and the drogue - probably about 30' of ½" chain - then it was just fine and didn't pull out any more. We broke the original Seabrake up because it wasn't designed for such a large boat (we had a 400 sq. ft. wingmast on Steinlager) and that particular Seabrake was designed for boats up to 45 feet I suppose, and a bit heavier. But it did a marvelous job nevertheless. Once we added the chain it didn't pull out any more and it worked well.
ENZA: Far more recently we did a run around the world with a boat called Enza, New Zealand. We broke the record for non-stop around the world on this 92' x 43' catamaran. We went around in 74 days and 22 hours, and really I think there's a lot more to be learned from that, an enormous amount more than the Round Australia Two-Handed Race, mainly because it's fresher in my mind. At one time we were in sustained seas that we estimated over 60 feet, totally breaking down their fronts. And on the second occasion, when we had all warps out, not only did we have 40-50 ft. seas coming from behind, but also seas of 50-60 ft. coming at right angles from the port beam and it was a nightmare. We just about lost the boat on two occasions at that point going down the mine, until we got the drogue out the back and then suddenly we could relax. That really was a matter of survival. It was an "if we don't get the drogue out we're not going to be alive" scenario. There was no maybe to it that time.
We spent quite a bit of time in the last 24 hours from the finish in full Atlantic storm conditions on Enza and we used what we had on board, which was all of our anchor chain and every single bit of rope we had, strung in a bight off the back and that worked fantastically. That was just as good. Two bridles, made up from 300 meters of rope on each side, and then right at the end we had all of the anchor chain, which was I suppose about 30 meters parceled up, and around that we had wrapped the anchor warp and seized it all up so that it made like a big bundle, but a heavy bundle, and that worked extremely well. It wasn't as easy to deploy as the Seabrake, however, took a bit of getting out and a bit of getting it back. The Seabrake we used to throw over with no hesitation, and it no doubt saved us on a number of occasions just because it was so easy to use.
Sea anchor or drogue? I've got my own view, and not just the facts. I've been hove-to in cyclones, I've run before, I've used trysails, I've dragged things, I've been beam on, you name it, on every sort of vessel. To me the biggest thing is that you must be prepared. I think that a lot of people get into problems because sometimes these weather patterns creep up on you and then suddenly it really is very nasty and you haven't quite realized it, and then to get out the necessary drag device, whatever it may be, is almost too late. By then people are seasick if it's a cruising boat, or they're not too used to it, or not necessarily experienced. So to have something easy to put over, such as a Seabrake, or whatever drag device you are using, I think that is very important. I have never layed to a sea anchor in earnest, but I can see that it might be reasonable. I tried lying to a sea anchor with my own trimaran once. We used a jet aircraft drogue parachute, but the trimaran had a big wingmast, and we could never anchor her conventionally by the bow anyway, having to anchor her by the stern instead. And we finally blew that parachute out, there was so much load on it. So I don't think there is any fixed answer to a set of conditions, though I think that if you've got searoom I, personally, would always go with a drag off the back. But if you haven't got searoom you haven't got an option. On a number of occasions in the Round Australia Race, on Steinlager, we would be on a lee shore with nasty weather coming in and we would actually keep an eye on the geography of the shoreline, even though it was a hundred miles to leeward, knowing that if conditions were to really turn bad we weren't going to be able to go to windward - no boat goes to windward in a storm - and we were going to have to run downwind, and the best thing probably would have been to find a place that didn't have steep cliffs and run the boat up on beach as far as possible. Run it up on a sandy beach and just get off the thing.
Quartering the seas? I don't necessarily go along with the idea of quartering the seas [with drogue in tow]. I think that it depends on what you are on, and if you're on a multihull it's definitely much better to be running squarely downwind, because if you're running with the wind on the quarter you're likely to dig a bow and loose it much more easily. Better to run absolutely downwind [in a multihull]. It's dangerous to take the seas on the quarter, and much, much better to take them square on the transom; that's in a multihull - a trimaran or a catamaran. A monohull, I think, is a different scenario, and I might agree with the quartering idea.
Lying A-Hull: I've hove-to in some really extreme conditions. I'm happy to sit there, but would be absolutely against lying a-hull anywhere. I don't think lying a-hull is a mode of survival that one should contemplate if conditions are really severe. In moderate conditions, if you're not too worried about the sea state, maybe it's OK. But lying a-hull in a storm is a recipe for being rolled, or having the deck or the cabin top stove in and heavy water come inside. I think that the other approaches are better. Even though lying a-hull is natural and sort of easy, I definitely don't think it's a tactic that people should use, unless they haven't got another option.
File D/C-9, obtained from Captain Fred Yeates, Tarpon Springs, FL. - Vessel name Anna Kay, hailing port Gwenn Island, VA, catamaran, designed by Jim Brown, LOA 44' x Beam 25' x Draft 3' x 6 Tons - Drogues: 4-ft. diameter Shewmon Variable Pull & 9-ft. diameter Shewmon (sea anchor) on 250' x 3/4" nylon braid tether, with bridle arms of 25' each and 5/8" galvanized swivel - Deployed in a severe Tehuantepeccer storm in 160 fathoms of water in the Gulf of Tehuantepec with winds of 120+ knots and seas of 40 ft. and greater - Vessel was blown 100 miles offshore in 20 hours before having to be abandoned.
Situated on the Pacific side of the Mexican isthmus, the Gulf of Tehuantepec ranks among the most perilous bodies of water on the planet earth. Experienced ship captains fear the Tehuantepec as they fear Bengal monsoons, Caribbean hurricanes, North Atlantic icebergs, North Pacific fog and the freak waves of the Agulhas (see a list of such events by month in Appendix V at the back this publication).
Crossing the Gulf of Tehuantepec is not something to be trifled with. The weather mechanism that can generate 70-knot winds in a matter of hours can be likened to a boiling kettle from which high pressure steam has only one escape route - the spout. The kettle is the Gulf of Mexico, flanked by the Mexican Plateau and the 10,000 ft. Sierra Madre mountains.
The steam consists of the northeast tradewinds reinforced by a massive high pressure cell situated over Texas or thereabouts. The spout is the cut in the Sierra Madre Mountains (in the Isthmus of Tehuantepec) through which the wind blasts out into the Pacific.
The Tehuantepec Demon (as locals refer to it) is most active in the months of November, December and January, though it has been known to wake up in other months. The demon's reach may extend a few hundred miles out to sea.
In crossing the Tehuantepec most southbound cruisers hold up in Huatulco Bay, waiting for a weather window. Northbound cruisers do the same on the other side of the Gulf of Tehuantepec, in Puerto Madero. The distance between Bahia de Huatulco and Puerto Madero is 260 miles as the crow flies
Since a strong wind must blow over a minimal distance - fetch - in order to build dangerous seas, and since the Tehuantepeccer blows from land out to sea, standard procedure - the highly recommended course - is to hug the beach and anchor if the Tehuantepec awakens, using the boat's heaviest ground tackle. Note that in doing so there are currents and other hazards that have to be watched for.
Captain Fred Yeates built Anna Kay with his own hands in 1984. She was the largest Jim Brown designed catamaran at the time. He spent five years cruising the Caribbean before transiting the Panama Canal in the spring of 1991. After several years in San Diego, Yeates sailed up to Santa Barbara where Victor Shane briefly met him. In the autumn of 1995 Yeates and Holly Janette Gatioan set sail out of Santa Barbara. Their destination was to be the Caribbean, via the Panama Canal. They spent several months in Mexico, arriving in Huatulco Bay in late February. Anna Kay waited there for two weeks. On 5 March a 48-hour window came through from the Canadian route forecaster Herb Hilgenburg via SSB. The weather fax was good and the port captain predicted safe sailing for two days. Fred and Holly set off to cross the Gulf of Tehuantepec and a nice warm breeze pushed them past Salina Cruz that night. The next day the wind freshened and Anna Kay was moving along at a nice clip, hugging the beach just in case the Tehuantepec should awaken. In the afternoon of 7 March 1996 the Tehuantepec awoke with a vengeance. The wind did an abrupt right-face and started blowing offshore, building to hurricane force in two hours, wiping out the local fishing fleet and claiming dozens of lives. Anna Kay was blown offshore. Transcript:
We were sailing off the Mexican coast, on the Pacific side, in the area known as the Gulf of Tehuantepec. At 1500 hrs on the afternoon of 7 March 1996 I found myself staring at a true wonder of nature - the largest thunder cloud I had ever seen, grow and form into a massive solid black wall of wind and rain bearing down directly on Anna Kay. I awakened Holly from her sleep. She came up on deck and saw what was coming down. I can't repeat her first words. The cold wind and rain hit us like a sledgehammer. There were other vessels around us, large shrimp boats, with crews of four or five. We watched them struggle with the sudden buildup of wind and sea.
Anna Kay was handling the conditions very well, the wind pushing us along the beach in the direction we wanted to go, there being no reason to anchor. In fact, by then it would have been quite difficult to do so. The bottom was too deep and the surf along the shore already quite spectacular. The wind continued to build. As we were being blasted down along the shore we witnessed one shrimp boat capsize. Clearly others were in trouble as well. With darkness falling, conditions worsening, and having no radar, I felt it would be wise to move offshore. Around 2000 hrs the wind suddenly shifted 90° and quickly built up to 75 knots! I deployed my 4' Shewmon VP [variable pull] drogue. Holly and I watched the last shore light disappear. We were now alone and heading out to sea.
The Shewmon Variable Pull drogue is designed for drag adjustment while underway. The pull is varied by means of a secondary line affixed to the inside center of the drogue. This secondary line leads out of the shackle termination and comes back to the boat along with the main tether. Drag can be reduced by pulling on the secondary line. It can be increased by slacking off on it. (See Shewmon's Sea Anchor and Drogue Handbook for details)
With the drogue deployed from a stern bridle the behavior of the boat was relatively comfortable and I was able to lie down and rest for an hour or so. By midnight the confused seas had built to such an extent that the ride was getting scary. Suddenly we started moving faster, crashing-banging sounds all around. We came on deck and discovered that the drogue had twisted and tangled itself. I retrieve it, straightened it out and re-deployed it. The behavior of the boat improved. Around 0300 the drogue fouled again. In the darkness I couldn't tell why. It was a vital piece of gear and it had always worked before. About all I could do was to haul it back in and try re-deployment.
Dawn revealed an ugly sea. As the sun came up the wind increased, and with it came even larger seas. Once again the drogue fouled and I hauled it in, with Holly at the helm. By now the wind was gusting to 100. With no drag in the water we started to be picked up and thrown about by huge confused seas, cresting on both sides and to the rear. I went below and hauled out my 9-ft. Shewmon sea anchor. Everything was a mess down below, with water sloshing about my ankles. With quiet a bit of difficulty I set the bigger sea anchor [off the stern, on the fly] and breathed a sigh of relief when it opened and held. With the big Shewmon deployed the boat slowed down and I didn't have to steer. I could leave the helm and actually go inside. I felt like resting for a while. But that was not to be. A wave washed the dinghy overboard. It was still tied and being dragged ten feet behind Anna Kay (the sea anchor being some 250' behind the boat). Big waves were breaking over our transom, trying to throw the dinghy at the catamaran. I thought about letting the dinghy sink and provide more drag. But the next wave convinced me otherwise. The dink had to go. I crawled to the transom with a knife in my teeth and cut it away.
The wind was still increasing. As we rose to the top of a wave the sea was a white-out all around. The sea anchor was getting rolled by the steep, confused waves, from the left, then from the right. Later, as I was watching, it got caught by two cross-seas and collapsed right before my eyes. I worked very hard to retrieve it, with Holly at the helm, trying to keep the boat from broaching. The sea anchor was all tangled up but not torn. I untangled it, only to have a wave come along and tangle it again and almost sweep me overboard. After straightening out the sea anchor I carefully deployed it, trying to let it out as slowly as possible. It worked fine again for a while, before being fouled by more cross seas. I had no choice but to pull it back in again. This took some doing. The 3/4" rode was slippery and my hands were all white and wrinkled by now. My safety harness saved me many times. I felt the problem was not having a swivel. Dan Shewmon himself had told me that it was not necessary. But in this situation it was. In the chaos down below I found my heaviest ground tackle swivel. I hooked everything up - not an easy task. It took a little time. The wind was gusting way past 100 now. The gusts were so powerful that they would flatten the sea by the acre, whipping up spray that would white-out the entire ocean. I heaved the sea anchor overboard again. As I tried to ease the line out we surfed down a huge wave and I lost control. We were surfing at 15 knots. I had to let go the rope. I had to get my feet out of the way of the lines that were running out. The line reached its end and stretched. The sea anchor opened, a beautiful sight. Then it shuddered, turned into a rag and disappeared.
We had lost the sea anchor. I sat down next to Holly and kept yelling "what happened?" But this was not the time or place to cry over spilt milk. When I retrieved the rode only one new shackle was at the end [the connecting eye of the 5/8" galvanized swivel must have broken]. I hooked up the 4' drogue and put it out again. Again it helped some, but didn't last long and I had to retrieve it. It was badly torn now and we couldn't tell what it had originally looked like. I asked Holly if she could sew it up. She went below looking for the sewing kit. I then put out a tire, and a couple of anchors to slow us down. I went forward and struggled with our largest anchor, trying not to look at the waves crashing all around (hope never to see such a sight again). I trailed as many things as I could off the stern to create drag and it helped a little bit. I seem to remember we managed a drink of water or juice then. I also remember seeing birds that couldn't fly, and turtles in great distress.
Late afternoon. Night was coming and there would be no moon until midnight or later. It was very cold. I had put on my Mustang immersion suit earlier, but it was open at neck, sleeves and ankles, so I was soaking wet and shivering. Holly was no better off as we screamed our commitments to each other above the noise of the wind and encouraged each other to fight on. The poor boat was trashed inside, but structurally sound. We would surf down a wave, be lifted to the top only to be sledge-hammered sideways by a cross sea. This action would launch heavy things around inside, levitating them, then causing them to hit something hard when the boat moved again. At the helm it was hang on for your life as white water tried to sweep you clean off the deck. The boat would be lifted by a crest, the bows would hang in mid-air and teeter there, before dropping one way or the other. Going over the back was much better than surfing the front, but you had to be ready for both.
Holly saw it first, pointing straight ahead, yelling "A freighter! A freighter!" It was half a mile away, a big white freighter, her bow scooping a huge sea, the wind whipping the water into a rainbow of spray that went clear over the bridge. The poor freighter looked like a canoe in the rapids. I went below and called on the VHF. I tried three times. No response. Finally they came back. I talked with the captain. He said the weather report was for conditions to get far worse. I was concerned about our lives. I was concerned about Holly. We truly love the life style, the people, the fun and the freedom of cruising, but we weren't out there to commit suicide. I issued a formal mayday. The captain of the freighter said he would try to make a lee.
I went down below. There was no time to gather the treasures of a lifetime, clothes, books, charts, photographs, things that can never be replaced. My wallet washed past my ankle. I picked it up, put a few other papers in my backpack and went out on deck. Holly went below to put a few things in a bag. The freighter passed by and came around behind us. Its towering bow came right on top of us, stopping in the nick of time. I saw her name, CHIQUITA BARU. We slid by and they fired rocket lines. But the wind blew them right back at the freighter. I asked Holly to cut away all the things we were dragging in the water. She was almost washed away in the process. It seemed that conditions were getting worse by the minute. I could see that the freighter was having its own problems, rolling dangerously, heavy surf crashing on deck as it lay broadside to the wind.
Anna Kay's motor started right up. The rudders worked fine. I tried to hold position by motoring around. Impossible. I tried reverse. No good. The freighter made another pass close by behind us, firing rocket lines that just got blown away again. We turned again. They were putting cargo nets over the side. Somehow we managed to come alongside. The catamaran's stable platform made it easier to get off. There was only time to help Holly up the ladder. She was alive, and that was all that counted. The ladder was swinging in and out, banging against the side of the huge hull. I urged her on, "climb, baby climb," and jumped myself. I got her moving up to strong hands that were waiting at the rails. She was taken below immediately, the conditions even on the deck of this Norwegian freighter being dangerous. The lines of the Anna Kay were let go and she drifted away. My last sight of her was a huge wave crashing over and onto the bows. She shook it off, and rose to the next, and then seemed to disappear in the stormy night.
File D/C-8, obtained from Dr. Gavin Le Sueur, Mallacoota, Australia - Vessel name Windswept, hailing port Mallacoota, catamaran, designed by Lock Crowther, LOA 40' x Beam 26' x Draft 2' 6" x 3 Tons - Drogue: Sea Squid on 300' x 3/4" nylon braid tether, with bridle arms of 28' each - Towed in a whole gale in deep water from Perth to Adelaide with winds of 40-50 knots and seas of 20-30 ft. - Vessel's stern yawed 20° - Speed was reduced to about 4 knots.
SEA SQUID (no longer available).
Although the Sea Squid is no longer in production we are presenting files that involve its use because they contain invaluable insights relating to the use of speed-limiting drogues in general. Dr. Gavin Le Sueur (see also S/C-16) used Australian Sea Squid drogues in the rough 1988 Two Handed Around Australia Race, the same race in which Peter Blake participated on Steinlager II (File D/T-1). Transcript:
I was offered a 40ft Crowther catamaran to sail in the 1988 Two Handed Around Australia Race. I crossed the starting line with Catherine [wife to be] as my crew. We were given a plastic "Sea Squid" drogue to test during the race. The first night brought a southerly buster that capsized a 35ft trimaran (Escapade), sank a police launch and cost the life of a crewman on a monohull (Boundary Rider). We towed the Sea Squid on 300ft of 1" braided nylon. It porpoised all night [diving in and out] and by dawn we were just dragging rope with a small plug of plastic shackled on the end. At the first stopover we were given a second Sea Squid. This one had a reinforced head (fiberglass resin poured into the bolt attachment). After a gale in the Coral Sea the inlet valves of this Sea Squid had split and folded back. Again this one would leap out of the water on occasions. At Darwin we were given a third Sea Squid to test. This time the inlet valves were smaller and reinforced across the center. We added 6ft of anchor chain right next to the drogue. This stopped the porpoising.
While crossing the Southern Ocean from Perth to Adelaide all competitors went through gale after storm. We could not carry full sail for 3000 miles! We towed drogues and warps for most of the way. The last Sea Squid worked famously. With the chain, reinforcing and altered inlet valves, we had no further structural failure. It was speed limiting to approximately 7 knots. We no longer surfed down waves, and often would add sail before taking in the Squid so that we could maintain a constant 7 knots and not stall in the troughs.
The drogue bridle ran inboard from each hull to two winches so that the arms could be adjusted for steering. The tether itself continued into the cockpit and the bridle arms were spliced together and the combined end bent onto the tether with a rolling hitch with a lock. The tether was then let out until the bridle grabbed. It was secured to another winch as a backup if the bridle arms failed, or the knot came undone. This never happened. We finished the Around Australia Race in second place in the 40ft division, third multihull over the line behind Steinlager (Peter Blake) and Verbatim (Cathy Hawkins and Ian Johnston). On the finish line I asked my crew to marry me and surprisingly she said yes!
Our drogue system has continuously undergone experiment and changes. These changes are entirely experimental and apply only to our catamaran, but may be of use to others. Our first problem was the stowage of the Sea Squid, and rigging it for convenient use. It meant getting out our short length of chain off the breakfast anchor line [lunch hook]. It usually meant digging the Squid out from the recesses of the bow. We read about textile drogues and have tried four systems since 1992. The first was a scaled down parachute. It worked out but slowed the cat to less than 3 knots in 35-knot winds. Too slow to avoid getting pooped. We then tried a "series" drogue, provided as a trial. It slowed the boat, but was a stowage mess and very impractical. We then tried a textile drogue that was fluted. It was like a normal parachute (3ft diameter) but with the middle ten inches removed and the continuous shrouds holding the two pieces of material together [see image below]. This fluted drogue worked as well as the parachute - 3 knots and too slow in 35-knot winds and 12ft seas. We had the drogue re-shaped by Para-Anchors Australia, the outlet hole enlarged and a rope tie put into the ends of the shrouds so that we could adjust the outlet [as with a drawstring bag].
Adjustable pull, "fluted" drogue conceived by Australian Gavin Le Sueur is similar to drogue used by NASA to lower the Pathfinder mission onto the surface of Mars. Note the drawstring arrangement on the smaller ring, allowing the outflow diameter to be adjusted from 14" to 4" to increase or reduce pull. The optimal pull for a particular boat will have to be determined through prior trial and error and in practice runs. The drogue cannot be adjusted while in use.
With all three drogues and the Sea Squid we put out to sea for a twelve month cruise. We have used the variable outlet - fluted - drogue four times in anger, using it to control our speed, or to stop surfing, or to ease the work of the autopilot. In 37-knot gusty conditions we sailed up to 8 knots with the outlet open. We put up our storm spinnaker (a small, bulletproof racing kite with a low center of gravity) and we were unable to push the boat speed over 8 knots. With 200ft of rode it appeared that the drogue rapidly increased the turbulence as we increased the pulling power [by adding sails]. It was as though we had hit a speed barrier. We winched it in (about ten minutes hard yakka) and then re-launched it with the outlet hole tightened up (from 10 inch diameter to 4 inches). We were then back to three knots boat speed. Again we were unable to exceed this speed. It took a bit longer to haul it in the second time but the exercise seemed fruitful. I thought it justified further development and sent a copy of the reports to Para-Anchors Australia. Why a variable drogue? Vary the outlet hole so that one drogue can work for different boats. On any boat, with practice (essential) you can "dial a speed limit." A simple system that is stowed in the cockpit without hassle. At no time did any of the textile drogues break the surface, although I would add a weight if I was to run downwind in tumbling sea conditions.
Dr. Le Sueur's "fluted" parachute drogue is similar in concept to the ringsail and disk gap-band drogues used by NASA and the Aerospace Industry. Alby McCracken of Para-Anchors Australia has developed Dr. Le Sueur's idea - replete with drawstring drag adjustment - and is now offering models for sale (see Appendix III at the back of this publication).
Using Parachutes, Sea Anchors and Drogues to Cope with Heavy Weather – Over 130 Documented Case Histories
D/T-8
D/T-5
