Wind, waves and a lee shore
Posted: Thu May 31, 2007 8:41 pm
With June almost here, we were long overdue for a weekend on the water and so decided to head up to Banks Lake, just below Grand Coulee Dam, on Memorial Day weekend. We monitored the long range forecast as we readied the boat for our 3 day outing. The report looked good, with temps in the mid 70's, breezy on Sunday afternoon.
We'd never been out on Banks before. Nothing unusual here. We bought the Mac so we wouldn't be restricted to home waters. We love exploring new places. Banks is in interesting lake, created as part of the Grand Coulee project. With dams on both ends, the Grand Coulee has been flooded to create a 25 mile long lake with striking scenery and excellent fishing.
We drove up to Steamboat Rock State Park on Friday afternoon, set up, and launched at dusk. We motored at low speed across the lake to a shallow, protected bay where we anchored for the night. When time came to take off next morning, I noticed 3 warning lights flashing on the tachometer guage. The motor was suddenly running very rough, wouldn't rev up, and finally refused to start. Never had that happen before. I checked for obvious things but no luck (and with my limited mechanical ability, not much is obvious,). We decided to proceed with the cruise despite the failure of the 50 hp motor. I lowered my 3.5 hp kicker and we putted out of the bay. I only had a gallon of mixed gas for the 2 stroke kicker, so got the sails up and we made use of the light breeze. Since we didn't have any long distance goals, we were content to go where the sails could reasonably take us. We tucked into a nice, sheltered cove for Saturday night.
I tuned the NOAA weather in and got updated on a cold front that would pass through the area on Sunday afternoon. Strong gusty westerly winds were forecast. I examined the chart for a likely spot to anchor on Sunday night. I selected a bay in the lee of Steamboat Rock, since it provided the best protection from a west wind. It was also quite close to the boat ramp, in the event that we needed to buck a strong headwind in returning to the ramp on Monday. We knew the kicker had its limitations in such conditions, also the approach to the ramp is narrow, and not conducive to tacking.
Sunday morning was great for light air sailing. Around noon I headed for Steamboat Rock and our bay. Steamboat Rock is a large basalt rock formation, with steep, almost verticle cliffs and totally flat on top. It rises 600 feet or so above the lake, and is nearly a mile in length. It is well named for its distinctive profile.
The wind was strengthening as we passed Steamboat, and I eager to get anchored. Inside our bay, the wind was flowing around Steamboat, and blowing out from shore, but with considerably less velocity than out on the main lake. We anchored about 75 yards out in 12 feet of water, with 90 feet of scope (15 lb bruce type anchor/20 feet of 5/16 chain).
We had electrical storm activity a few miles to the north as evening set in. The gusts gradually eased and became variable, and about 9 pm the wind clocked to the northwest. This brought it in from the exposed side of the bay, but with only about a mile of fetch I wasn't too concerned. The anchor stayed set and the storm seemed to have passed. I checked our position several times during the night. No problems, and it gradually seemed to be settling down.
With morning, however, the wind was up, briskly, and again northwest. The sky was clear but outside it was really blowing, perhaps 25 to 30 knots, with considerably higher gusts. I had time to dress and start the coffee water before we heard the loud smack of a wave hitting us broadside. I looked out and realized we were dragging toward shore, with a 6 foot high, 6 foot wide basalt boulder directly in our direction of drift.
If the Nissan 50 had been operational we could have easily powered away from danger. I didn't dare drop the fins and try to sail in such shallow water and so close to shore. My only option was the kicker. She started on the first pull, however that little 3.5 would only rev up to about half throttle. Our reverse drift coupled with the strength of the wind was too much for that little motor, and when I tried more power, she would stall out. She gave us just enough thrust to hold our position, which was now less than 50 feet from shore. Then, adding to our trouble, a particularly strong gust flipped our 10 foot porta-bote dinghy, which was tethered astern. It became clear that we were rapidly being blown onto a lee shore. I had barely enough time to raise the rudders and kicker motor
(centerboard was already up) before we grounded ashore.
On the bright side, the little bit of push from the kicker had enabled us to drift just far enough up the shore to avoid that basalt boulder, and we had grounded on the only bit of soft sand beach in the vicinity. The wind and 2 foot chop was really pounding us, with spray breaking up onto cabin windows. However, the beach was smooth and soft. The anchor had just enough resistance to keep the bow pointed out at about a 30 degree angle from shore. I tried pushing her more into the wind but it was pointless. She was well onto the beach, and being pushed too strongly by the wind.
I figured I was going to need some help, so walked a couple hundred yards down the shore toward a boat camp. When I got there I realized I wasn't the only one with troubles. The campers there were struggling with their 19 foot ski boat, which had also blown ashore. I helped them get afloat and then asked them to cruise on over my way after they got their camp moved back to the boat ramp.
I returned to our boat to see what could be done while awaiting reinforcements. I grabbed the spare anchor and rowed it out in the dinghy. I set it as far out as possible, and at an angle which would help turn the boat more into the wind. I ran the tail of the anchor line through the bow pulpit and back to a winch, putting as much tension on it as possible. I could get the boat to move a little, side to side, by pushing on the bow, and she would also move by pushing on the stern, but she was merely pivoting. She appeared to be resting just aft of midships, and I couldn't get her to budge an inch out into deeper water. I began to worry about the lake level being drawn down, which they do there from time to time.
I decided to reposition the spare anchor, and set my kedge more in line with the boat. This done, I had my wife crank on the winch. I took a dinghy oar and used it as a shovel to loosen the sand amidship. I then began shoving on the stern, back and forth. She seemed to be moving more easily than before. About then the ski boat arrived on scene, and 2 muscular guys hopped out. With my wife cranking on the winch, me shoving side to side, and two young guys pushing on the stern, she finally slid back into her proper element. What a relief.
When I pulled the main anchor ashore, I discovered why we had dragged. The flukes were completely clogged with a mass of muck and milfoil. I had set the anchor on a weed bottom. It had managed to reset with the change in wind, however, with the morning's powerful gusts, it had ripped out a big chunk of bottom. Once fouled, it couldn't reset. The spare Fortress anchor broke out and came up without any weeds at all, and was completely caked with fine silty sand.
Lessons learned: It is humbling to reflect back on this situation. While our personal safety was not really at risk, we could easily have lost the boat. I had paid attention to the weather forecast, I had a chart, I selected our anchorage with the forecast weather in mind. However, I did make mistakes. I should have selected an anchorage which afforded protection from more directions. Also, I should have set out my second anchor before the wind direction shifted. By anchoring Bahama style, with both anchors attached to the bow but 180 degrees from each other, I'm convinced the chances of our dragging would have been greatly reduced. I don't regret continuing the trip on just the kicker. I think that was a reasonable, calculated risk. I was really glad for the kicker motor. While it wasn't up to keeping us off the beach, it did make the difference between holing the hull on a rock and landing on soft sand. The porta-bote dinghy also did good service, enabling me to row out against strong headwinds to set the kedge. I don't think I could have rowed an inflatable out under those conditions.
All this goes to show how quickly things can go from perfectly fine to pure chaos in a matter of moments while out on the water. When that happens, you usually only have your own resources to fall back upon. I think that's part of the challenge and the appeal of boating.
PS: Preliminary diagnosis on the Nissan 50 is a failed fuel pump. I'll know more in a few days.
We'd never been out on Banks before. Nothing unusual here. We bought the Mac so we wouldn't be restricted to home waters. We love exploring new places. Banks is in interesting lake, created as part of the Grand Coulee project. With dams on both ends, the Grand Coulee has been flooded to create a 25 mile long lake with striking scenery and excellent fishing.
We drove up to Steamboat Rock State Park on Friday afternoon, set up, and launched at dusk. We motored at low speed across the lake to a shallow, protected bay where we anchored for the night. When time came to take off next morning, I noticed 3 warning lights flashing on the tachometer guage. The motor was suddenly running very rough, wouldn't rev up, and finally refused to start. Never had that happen before. I checked for obvious things but no luck (and with my limited mechanical ability, not much is obvious,). We decided to proceed with the cruise despite the failure of the 50 hp motor. I lowered my 3.5 hp kicker and we putted out of the bay. I only had a gallon of mixed gas for the 2 stroke kicker, so got the sails up and we made use of the light breeze. Since we didn't have any long distance goals, we were content to go where the sails could reasonably take us. We tucked into a nice, sheltered cove for Saturday night.
I tuned the NOAA weather in and got updated on a cold front that would pass through the area on Sunday afternoon. Strong gusty westerly winds were forecast. I examined the chart for a likely spot to anchor on Sunday night. I selected a bay in the lee of Steamboat Rock, since it provided the best protection from a west wind. It was also quite close to the boat ramp, in the event that we needed to buck a strong headwind in returning to the ramp on Monday. We knew the kicker had its limitations in such conditions, also the approach to the ramp is narrow, and not conducive to tacking.
Sunday morning was great for light air sailing. Around noon I headed for Steamboat Rock and our bay. Steamboat Rock is a large basalt rock formation, with steep, almost verticle cliffs and totally flat on top. It rises 600 feet or so above the lake, and is nearly a mile in length. It is well named for its distinctive profile.
The wind was strengthening as we passed Steamboat, and I eager to get anchored. Inside our bay, the wind was flowing around Steamboat, and blowing out from shore, but with considerably less velocity than out on the main lake. We anchored about 75 yards out in 12 feet of water, with 90 feet of scope (15 lb bruce type anchor/20 feet of 5/16 chain).
We had electrical storm activity a few miles to the north as evening set in. The gusts gradually eased and became variable, and about 9 pm the wind clocked to the northwest. This brought it in from the exposed side of the bay, but with only about a mile of fetch I wasn't too concerned. The anchor stayed set and the storm seemed to have passed. I checked our position several times during the night. No problems, and it gradually seemed to be settling down.
With morning, however, the wind was up, briskly, and again northwest. The sky was clear but outside it was really blowing, perhaps 25 to 30 knots, with considerably higher gusts. I had time to dress and start the coffee water before we heard the loud smack of a wave hitting us broadside. I looked out and realized we were dragging toward shore, with a 6 foot high, 6 foot wide basalt boulder directly in our direction of drift.
If the Nissan 50 had been operational we could have easily powered away from danger. I didn't dare drop the fins and try to sail in such shallow water and so close to shore. My only option was the kicker. She started on the first pull, however that little 3.5 would only rev up to about half throttle. Our reverse drift coupled with the strength of the wind was too much for that little motor, and when I tried more power, she would stall out. She gave us just enough thrust to hold our position, which was now less than 50 feet from shore. Then, adding to our trouble, a particularly strong gust flipped our 10 foot porta-bote dinghy, which was tethered astern. It became clear that we were rapidly being blown onto a lee shore. I had barely enough time to raise the rudders and kicker motor
(centerboard was already up) before we grounded ashore.
On the bright side, the little bit of push from the kicker had enabled us to drift just far enough up the shore to avoid that basalt boulder, and we had grounded on the only bit of soft sand beach in the vicinity. The wind and 2 foot chop was really pounding us, with spray breaking up onto cabin windows. However, the beach was smooth and soft. The anchor had just enough resistance to keep the bow pointed out at about a 30 degree angle from shore. I tried pushing her more into the wind but it was pointless. She was well onto the beach, and being pushed too strongly by the wind.
I figured I was going to need some help, so walked a couple hundred yards down the shore toward a boat camp. When I got there I realized I wasn't the only one with troubles. The campers there were struggling with their 19 foot ski boat, which had also blown ashore. I helped them get afloat and then asked them to cruise on over my way after they got their camp moved back to the boat ramp.
I returned to our boat to see what could be done while awaiting reinforcements. I grabbed the spare anchor and rowed it out in the dinghy. I set it as far out as possible, and at an angle which would help turn the boat more into the wind. I ran the tail of the anchor line through the bow pulpit and back to a winch, putting as much tension on it as possible. I could get the boat to move a little, side to side, by pushing on the bow, and she would also move by pushing on the stern, but she was merely pivoting. She appeared to be resting just aft of midships, and I couldn't get her to budge an inch out into deeper water. I began to worry about the lake level being drawn down, which they do there from time to time.
I decided to reposition the spare anchor, and set my kedge more in line with the boat. This done, I had my wife crank on the winch. I took a dinghy oar and used it as a shovel to loosen the sand amidship. I then began shoving on the stern, back and forth. She seemed to be moving more easily than before. About then the ski boat arrived on scene, and 2 muscular guys hopped out. With my wife cranking on the winch, me shoving side to side, and two young guys pushing on the stern, she finally slid back into her proper element. What a relief.
When I pulled the main anchor ashore, I discovered why we had dragged. The flukes were completely clogged with a mass of muck and milfoil. I had set the anchor on a weed bottom. It had managed to reset with the change in wind, however, with the morning's powerful gusts, it had ripped out a big chunk of bottom. Once fouled, it couldn't reset. The spare Fortress anchor broke out and came up without any weeds at all, and was completely caked with fine silty sand.
Lessons learned: It is humbling to reflect back on this situation. While our personal safety was not really at risk, we could easily have lost the boat. I had paid attention to the weather forecast, I had a chart, I selected our anchorage with the forecast weather in mind. However, I did make mistakes. I should have selected an anchorage which afforded protection from more directions. Also, I should have set out my second anchor before the wind direction shifted. By anchoring Bahama style, with both anchors attached to the bow but 180 degrees from each other, I'm convinced the chances of our dragging would have been greatly reduced. I don't regret continuing the trip on just the kicker. I think that was a reasonable, calculated risk. I was really glad for the kicker motor. While it wasn't up to keeping us off the beach, it did make the difference between holing the hull on a rock and landing on soft sand. The porta-bote dinghy also did good service, enabling me to row out against strong headwinds to set the kedge. I don't think I could have rowed an inflatable out under those conditions.
All this goes to show how quickly things can go from perfectly fine to pure chaos in a matter of moments while out on the water. When that happens, you usually only have your own resources to fall back upon. I think that's part of the challenge and the appeal of boating.
PS: Preliminary diagnosis on the Nissan 50 is a failed fuel pump. I'll know more in a few days.
Jack