D/M-4 Monohull, Irwin 37

D/M-4

Monohull, Irwin 37

37' x 6 Tons, Low Aspect Fin Keel

Jury-Rigged Sail

Force 7-8 Conditions

GENNYANCFile D/M-4, obtained from Charles E. Kanter, Key Largo, FL. - Vessel name Lorilynn, hailing port Philadelphia, monohull, center-cockpit sloop designed by Ted Irwin, LOA 37' x LWL 34' x Beam 14' x Draft 4' x 6 Tons - Low aspect fin keel - Drogue: 150% Genoa sail (three corners tied together like a diaper) on 200' x 5/8" nylon three strand rode, with no swivel - Deployed in a low system in deep water midway between Great Anagua and Ackland Islands (Bahamas) with winds of 30-40 knots and seas of 8-12 ft. - Vessel's stern yawed 10° - Drift was said to be very little.

 

A former delivery skipper, Charles E. Kanter has well over 100,000 blue water miles under his belt. He has served as sailing coach to the United States Naval Academy in Annapolis, conducted extensive tests on ground anchors, written articles about sea anchors, ground anchors and hurricane mooring systems. On the occasion of this file Kanter and crew were sailing their newly refurbished Irwin 37, Lorilynn, from St. Thomas to the Bahamas when they ran into full gale conditions. To the north lay the treacherous shoals of Acklins Island, and to the west the equally treacherous lee shore of the Great Bahama Bank.

Kanter rigged a "drogue" out of his largest genoa. He tied the three corners of the sail loosely together with dock lines; he then connected it to 200 ft. of anchor rode and carefully deployed the whole thing over the stern. He was able to get the sail to fill and assume a shape similar to a triangular parachute. The boat then lay comfortably stern-to the seas for a period of about 12 hours, more or less anchored to the surface of the ocean. The wind and the rain were so strong that it was impossible to go on deck. The EPIRB, life raft and the calamity pack were made ready just in case. The crew prepared itself for the worst.

Every fifteen minutes one of them would try to poke a head out of the hatch as a lookout, but it was a futile exercise, the air being so thick with spume and spray. In related articles appearing in the February 1985 issue of Cruising World and September/October 1987 issue of Multihulls Magazine, Charles Kanter wrote that he spent the entire night on the cabin sole, agonizing and reflecting on the tactic as it related to the particular boat and situation. As it turned out the center cockpit Irwin rode out the storm quite nicely, without excessive yawing or broaching. Her stern stayed more or less snubbed into the seas, and in twelve hours she had drifted only about three miles westward - the wind being from the east. By dawn the storm had abated and they got under way again, after hauling the "genny anchor" back in. It is interesting to note that Kanter mentions observing large cresting waves breaking over the location of the makeshift drogue:

We found that the sea anchor being close to the surface caused the waves to break before they reached the boat, just like being behind a shoal. It was awe-inspiring. Giant waves would rush up behind us, looking like they were going to overwhelm us and they would, literally, explode when they hit the sea anchor artificial shoal. We never took green water on the deck in the twelve hours we lay there. It looked a little like the famous Hawaii surf, with us standing just far enough up the beach to get a little foam. (Multihulls Magazine, September/October 1987, by permission).

In parts of the Mediterranean where ancient Phoenicians knew of the existence of underwater currents they would lower their sails into the depths and get a tow when becalmed. Sails have great potential for use as makeshift sea anchors and drogues. Think about it. If a sail is strong enough to drive a heavy boat through the sea at several knots, why can't it be used as a sea anchor or drogue to reduce drift? In section 8 of Oceanography And Seamanship, William G. Van Dorn discusses the use of parachutes as sea anchors and adds that a makeshift parachute can be rigged out of any heavy spinnaker, "using three sheets as shroud lines and any spare nylon for a rode." He goes on to say that the forces will be about the same as if it were flying in a strong wind.

Sailors should also read the article Sails As Sea Anchors by Daniel C. Shewmon, appearing in the July/August 1986 issue of Multihulls Magazine (back issues available from Multihulls Magazine, 421 Hancock St., Quincy MA 02171). This article explains and illustrates how to convert sails into emergency sea anchors. Shewmon emphasizes that purpose-made sea anchors should be standard equipment on all offshore boats, but that if the unit is lost or damaged it can temporarily be replaced by a sail. "Mains, genoas, and spinnakers are ideal shapes for conversions to sea anchors.... The key to their success as sea anchors is equal flow of water from all three sides." (July/August issue of Multihulls Magazine, by permission).

Large, equilateral sails, such as genoas, can be converted into sea anchors - or drogues - by tying the three corners together like a diaper, or by using three short lengths of rope as shown above. A swivel termination is a good idea. On some vessels this "genny anchor" can then be used off the bow, along with a mizzen or riding sail. On others, it may be used off the stern as a makeshift medium-pull drogue.
Large, equilateral sails, such as genoas, can be converted into sea anchors - or drogues - by tying the three corners together like a diaper, or by using three short lengths of rope as shown above. A swivel termination is a good idea. On some vessels this "genny anchor" can then be used off the bow, along with a mizzen or riding sail. On others, it may be used off the stern as a makeshift medium-pull drogue.

 

D/M-2 Monohull, Bermuda Ketch

JOSHUAD/M-2

Monohull, Bermuda Ketch

39' 6" x 13.4 Tons, Full Keel

Warps, Net and Pig Iron Drags

Force 10 Conditions


File D/M-2, derived from the writings of Bernard Moitessier - Vessel name Joshua, monohull, canoe-stern, center cockpit Bermuda Ketch build of steel, LOA 39' 6" x LWL 33' 9" x Beam 12' x Draft 5' 3' x 13.4 Tons - Full keel - Drogue: assorted drags used in concert, including 22 fathoms 4.5" hemp rope weighed down by 3 pigs of iron 40 lbs. each; 16 fathoms 3" hemp rope weighed down by two pigs of iron 40 lbs. each; 32 fathoms of 1.5" nylon rope trailing freely - Deployed while running before a mature storm in the high latitudes of the Southern Ocean with sustained winds of 50 knots and seas of 30 ft. - Joshua came near to pitchpoling several times and Moitessier elected to cut away all the drags.

 

Bernard Moitessier is undoubtedly one of the most extraordinary seamen that has ever lived. Fortunately he is an extraordinary writer as well. The critic Jonathan Raban once said, "I'd sooner read Moitessier than any other nautical writer alive." Indeed one never tires of reading Moitessier. He holds the imagination captive, from the first page to the last. Born in French Indo-China, Bernard's first odyssey was aboard his dilapidated junk, Marie Therese, which ran aground after a fifteen round - eighty five day - battle with a monsoon in the Indian Ocean. He then spent three years on the island of Mauritius, building Marie Therese II, which ran aground in the Antilles, after a long lonely Atlantic crossing. A few years later the resilient Moitessier had finished his book, Vagabond des Mers du Sud, and was in Chauffailles, France, getting married to "a little slip of a woman called Francoise" and overseeing the building of his new 39-ft. steel boat Joshua. In October 1963 he took Francoise "for a sail" on Joshua - across the Atlantic, through the Panama Canal, to the Galapagos and the South Pacific. The couple spent two happy, carefree years in Polynesia. In the winter of 1965 they "went sailing" again - Tahiti to Spain non-stop, via Cape Horn, 14,216 miles in 126 days.

It was on 13 December 1965 that Joshua ran into a heavy storm in the high latitudes of the Southern Ocean, mid-way between Tahiti and Cape Horn. Mindful of the experiences of Smeeton and Robinson, Moitessier deployed an array of drags to slow Joshua down - all told some 900 feet of heavy ropes weighed down by five 40-lb. iron pigs and a large heavy net used to load ships. Despite all the drag devices in tow Joshua came very close to sharing the fate of Tzu Hang - going end over end. As he struggled with the helm, Moitessier began to take stock of his situation and compare it with the experiences of other "Cape Horners," among them the renowned Argentinean singlehander Vito Dumas.

In the famous episode that followed we find Moitessier engaging the ghost of the Dumas in a debate, as it were. "But what was your secret, Vito Dumas.... You did it... and Legh II was a small boat... you carried sail, I believe you... but you couldn't have carried any sail in this kind of seas, don't spin me that yarn, for if you had carried any sail in these seas you would have been pitchpoled like Tzu Hang... and like Joshua, almost.... And yet, you covered the three oceans...." (Cape Horn, The Logical Route, Grafton Books, London 1987, by permission).

Moitessier then writes that he doesn't believe in ghosts, but could have sworn that he heard a voice - that of Dumas - telling him the answer. Once he had the answer he was aft, cutting away all drags and warps, allowing Joshua to run unimpeded on bare poles. He noticed an enormous change in her: "She had no longer anything in common with the wretched boat of the night before which had made me think of the little hunter trying to parry the blows of a gorilla, with his feet caught in the undergrowth." (Ibid.) Thereafter Moitessier adopted the technique of "putting down the helm," and Joshua began taking the seas more safely on the quarter. Later on in the storm, as they are sitting in the inside steering station, he explains the technique to his wife Francoise:

 

I'm running dead before the wind to keep the maximum speed on the boat and make sure that she answers on the helm when she has to. Now watch carefully, you see that wave coming up [behind]... I am still dead before... and just before the stern lifts I turn the wheel right down... You see... she heels over and veers to the right as she ought to... she is pushed forward and a little sideways... the moment the stern settles down again, just after the wave has passed I turn the wheel right over in the opposite direction to bring her back again stern on; this is the best moment because the rudder is deep in the water and very effective... you see... we are back dead before the wind, and the business starts all over again. (Ibid.)

Remarkably, Moitessier seems to be using his instincts to avoid pitchpole (see image in previous file). It must have been instinct because the phenomenon of orbital rotation was not well known at the time - nowhere in his writings does Moitessier refer to the orbital rotation of waves. Indeed, one can only infer that Moitessier must have been directed by some rare and spontaneous instinct peculiar to extraordinary seamen. By that, or by the ghost of Vito Dumas.

To fly dead straight down a wave face would have placed Joshua in the same head-over-heels predicament as Tzu Hang - the bow impaling itself in the approaching "current" in the trough as the stern was being hurled downwind by the motion at the crest. So, in maneuvering across the face of a wave (like a skier zig-zagging down a slope), Moitessier is in effect trying to cheat the pitchpole demon - trying to keep the bow from burying itself in the adjacent trough. To some extent the same principle is used by a surfer when he puts down his heel to "spin out" and disengage from the wave. Needless to say in order to execute this maneuver with precision over and over again in a storm, the helmsman of a sailboat would require the reflexes, the skill and the stamina of a Grand Prix driver, attributes that Moitessier no doubt possessed at that time, but hardly common to all sailors. Bear in mind also that Joshua was made of steel, had a canoe stern, a center cockpit, and an inside steering station where the helmsmen could concentrate on what he was doing, unaffected by the cold and the wet. It is interesting to note what the late Miles Smeeton had to say about this technique:

When Bernard Moitessier, that fine seaman, offers an opinion, it should be well considered, because he has twice sailed Joshua round Cape Horn... but his answer is not necessarily the right one for all yachts, any more than mine is, and it requires a superman to steer accurately like this through a dark night.... Even if his theory is correct for other yachts, tired men and irregular waves are apt to defy it. (Because The Horn Is There, Granada Publishing, London, 1984 & 1985, Appendix, by permission).

In 1982 Joshua was anchored in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, when a tropical storm swept over the crowded anchorage. A large motorboat dragged down on Joshua, forcing her up on the beach, where numerous other yachts ended their careers as well. When the fiasco was over nothing remained of the famous boat other than her bare steel hull. Two brothers from Port Townsend, Washington bought the hull for $20 and spent two years rebuilding her, later selling her to a Seattle woman. The woman's dream of sailing Joshua around the world was rudely shattered by the indiscretion of her sailing partner - he turned out to be married. The French newspaper Voiles & Voliers heard about the affair and sent a photographer to Seattle. After the article - showing magnificent photographs of Joshua under sail - was published, a number of famous sailors banded together to form the Joshua Foundation. The French Maritime Museum then purchased the dear old boat, put it on a ship and took it to La Rochelle France, where she is on display today.

S/T-13 Trimaran, Searunner

JBROWN37S/T-13

Trimaran, Searunner

37' x 22' x 5.5 Tons

18-Ft. Dia. Sea Anchor

Force 8-9 Conditions

 

File S/T-13, obtained from Brian Hunt, Sacramento, CA. - Vessel name Born Free, hailing port Ventura CA, Searunner trimaran, designed by Jim Brown, LOA 37' x Beam 22' x Draft 6'11" (3' board up) x 5.5 Tons - Sea anchor: 18-ft. Diameter Para-Tech on 400' x 5/8" nylon braid tether and bridle arms of 100' each, with stainless steel 5/8" swivel - Full trip line - Deployed in a gale in 450 fathoms off the coast of Mexico with winds of 40 knots and seas of 20 ft. - Vessel's bow yawed 10° - Drift was 4.25 n.m. during 20 hours at sea anchor.

 

Brian and Trina Hunt were sailing Born Free from California to Norway, via Tahiti. In the trip down to Cabo San Lucas Born Free ran into nasty conditions off the coast of Mexico. Transcript:

We were actually having our best sail since the start of our voyage, nearly straight downwind with a single reef in the main and traveling along quite nicely with occasional surfs, which although exhilarating were not at all frightening. This was early in the morning and as the hours went by the wind continued to increase and the waves built in size until - under stays'l alone - we were surfing regularly down the faces of the waves which I would estimate to be 10-15' with very steep and sometimes breaking faces. It was really no fun anymore and with the conditions deteriorating I decided it was time to try the sea anchor. Deployment went well, using the DSB (deployable stowage bag), except for the tripline which fouled and had to be cut. We came bow-to the seas and the boat rode nicely. This was around 1:00 in the afternoon. As the day wore on the conditions continued to worsen and by nightfall I would estimate that the waves were in the 15-25' range, very steep and frequently breaking. The strongest winds and seas occurred at night, and not being able to see the surface of the water I could only estimate the wind at being something over 40 knots. Later, we met a vessel which had been in the same blow and they reported that their wind indicator was pegged at 60 knots for over 8 hours.

During the worst part of the storm we would sometimes be hit from the side by a large sea and it would knock our bow approx 60° off the dominant train. It would take the boat about 10-15 seconds to fetch up on the sea anchor and turn bow-to the seas again. At first light the wind had dropped to about 25 kts and continued to drop through the morning. I then pulled the sea anchor in. We had no damage and had spent the duration of the blow in our bunks. This is not to say we weren't frightened - we were, right to our very cores. But what is really scary to me is the thought of trying to steer through that mess in the dark when you couldn't pick your way through the worst of the waves. We probably would have made it through, but at much greater risk and discomfort to our boat and ourselves.

I've since related this experience to many other sailors and I'm still amazed at the lukewarm attitudes toward sea anchors. I usually have to tell them three times that it was used off the BOW and not the stern! Most think it is a multihull tactic and not in the realm of monohulls. However, heaving-to, running off and lying a-hull all require searoom, the lack of which could mean disaster. Not to mention broaching, rolling over, pitchpoling. Why risk these things?

CAPSIZE1

S/T-1 Trimaran, Horstman Tristar Ketch

HORSTMANS/T-1

Trimaran, Horstman Tristar Ketch

39' x 22' x 8 Tons

28-Ft. Dia. Parachute Sea Anchor

Force 12 Conditions

 

 

File S/T-1, obtained from Joan Casanova, Oregon City, OR. - Vessel name Tortuga Too, hailing port Seattle, Trimaran, Tristar ketch, designed by Ed Horstman, LOA 39' x Beam 22' x Draft 44" x 8 Tons - Sea anchor: 28-ft. Diameter C-9 military class parachute on 400' x 3/4" nylon three strand tether and bridle arms of 60' each, with 1/2" galvanized swivel - Full trip line - Deployed in numerous storms during 18-year cruise from Seattle to African coast, the Southern Ocean and back to Texas - Severest use case was over the Burwood Bank, between Cape Horn and Falkland Islands, with winds of 85-100 knots and seas in excess of 30' - Vessel's bow yawed about 20° - Drift was estimated to be 16 n.m. during three days at sea anchor.

 

By and large this is probably the most important file in the Drag Device Data Base. Other than a handful of known but poorly-documented cases of commercial fishermen and some sailboats using parachutes, our knowledge about the general behavior of boats at sea anchor was sketchy until the Casanovas came alone. We didn't know if a boat would "rise to the seas," or be pulled through green water. We didn't know if the boat would roll with the punches and "yield to the seas," or stand up against them and break up. We didn't know if the boat would get "slingshotted" off the crests as the elastic rode stretched. We didn't know if the boat would "back down" on her rudder, so as to cause it to break off. We didn't know if the hardware and fittings on boats could withstand the forces involved. Well, thanks to the pioneering work of Joan and John Casanova, now we know.

The parachute anchoring system never failed on Tortuga Too, not once in eighteen years and some 200,000 blue water miles. Off the coast of New Zealand where cyclone winds were recorded at 90 mph, in a hurricane off Fiji where several other boats were lost, in 40-ft. seas in the Indian Ocean, and in a truly devastating storm off the Falklands, time and again Tortuga Too survived without damage by the correct use of the parachute sea anchor. While Lady Luck might have played a significant role in some of the other files in this database, it is clear that her role was minimal in this one. Indeed, the number of times that the parachute was used, and the broad range of life-threatening storms and heavy weather situations in which it was deployed, seem to tell us that luck had very little to do with anything here - though it goes without saying that luck always favors the wise and the well-prepared.

Despite her relatively lightweight - plywood - construction, and despite her 22-ft. beam, Tortuga Too was never in any danger of breaking up. Not once did she get slingshotted off the huge storm crests; she never went crashing through green water; the galvanized swivel did not fail; the deck fittings did not pull out. The 28-ft. diameter military parachute held and the system worked, time and time again.

Tortuga Too's worst-case scenario occurred over the shallow Burwood Bank, between Cape Horn and the Falklands. This was a "bomb" type storm development, to use the expression coined by professor Fred Sanders of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The term "bomb" is generally used to describe the rapid development of a secondary storm, which overtakes - and reinforces - its predecessor. In particular it describes the pressure gradient amplifications that result from the overtaking of a surface LOW by a faster moving upper altitude TROUGH, resulting in barometric pressure decreases of 24 millibars or more in a 24-hour period, as well as abruptly angled surface wind fields. This type of storm development - usually identified by high-altitude comma-shaped clouds on satellites pictures - was associated with Fastnet '79.

In the book The Parachute Anchoring System Joan Casanova describes Tortuga Too's encounter with a genuine ESW - extreme storm wave. Tortuga Too was tethered to a 28-ft. diameter C-9 parachute when an enormous mountain of curling, roaring water rose before her bows, something akin to the terrifying photographs in Coles's Heavy Weather Sailing. This sobering account should be a source of comfort to multihull sailors in particular. It is reproduced by permission of Chiodi Advertising & Publishing, publisher of Multihulls Magazine:

 

It was the type of a wave which pitchpoles yachts in these oceans, the type which every voyager sailing in the high latitudes of the Southern Ocean fears. While we watched, horrified, this monster welled up for a second time, curling over as if breaking on a beach, then roaring in foamy masses on top of Tortuga Too, covering deck and wheel house before running off into the sea once more. We were so shaken by this experience that it seemed an eternity before we regained our composure to check the boat's condition, but she was all right. In fact, Tortuga Too recovered faster than we. There was no structural damage. She had returned to her original position of facing the storm and was already climbing the next wave....

We want to stress here that no vessel, multihull, monohull or freighter, could have survived such a sea unless tethered with a long line from a sea anchor... we share this story with you only to prove how this technique can protect a craft in extraordinary circumstances. Although Tortuga Too survived this mammoth wave crashing on her deck, there was no backing down on her rudder, nor any structural damage to the hulls.

 

The experiences of the Casanovas with parachute sea anchors is so broad-based, so extensive that it has entered into the legend and nomenclature of multihull sailing. In the multihull community the name "Casanova" is synonymous with parachute anchoring, to the extent that the names "Voss" and "Pardey" are synonymous with heaving-to in the monohull community. In the course of logging all those blue water miles, Joan and "Cass" tried every conceivable heavy weather tactic known to man, including the use of makeshift drogues off the stern, but they always found themselves coming back to the bow-deployed parachute sea anchor. Multihull sailors owe a debt of deep gratitude to Joan Casanova in particular, for having the vision to see in her valuable storm experiences a responsibility to inform others. (See also her early articles in the Spring 1976, July/August 1979 and August 1980 issues of Multihulls Magazine).