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Thread: New Boat 4 Sled

  1. #2761
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    Sep 2007
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    Perusing accounts of a recent yacht race, I was taken, then taken aback like PJ's poled out jib, by perhaps an excessively liberal sprinkling of fripperies. In the space of a few paragraphs there existed, but not limited to, the adjectives "insane," "phenomenal," " huge," "incredibly," "fantastic," " ultra" "dramatic," "hot," "surging," "super," "absolutely," "massive," "revolutionary."

    Where was I for this "endless," wild windquest?

    A little hyperbole, understatement as well as overstatement, can be appreciated. Here is a excerpt from another account of a sail to Hawaii in another age by a well known author, a favorite of mine, and possibly yours: MT
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/)~~~^^~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    " Bound for Hawaii to visit the great volcano and behold the other notable things which distinguish that island above the remainder of the group, we sailed from Honolulu on a certain Saturday afternoon, in the good schooner Boomerang.

    The Boomerang was about as long as two street cars, and about as wide as one. She was so small that when I stood on her deck I felt but little smaller than the Colossus of Rhodes must have felt when he had a man-of- war under him. I could reach the water when she lay over under a strong breeze. When the Captain and my comrade (a Mr. Billings), myself and four other persons were all assembled on the little after portion of the deck which is sacred to the cabin passengers, it was full--there was not room for any more quality folks. Another section of the deck, twice as large as ours, was full of natives of both sexes, with their customary dogs, mats, blankets, pipes, calabashes of poi, fleas, and other luxuries and baggage of minor importance. As soon as we set sail the natives all lay down on the deck, and smoked, conversed, and spit on each other, and were truly sociable.

    The little low-ceiled cabin below was rather larger than a hearse, and as dark as a vault. It had two coffins on each side--I mean two bunks. A small table, capable of accommodating three persons at dinner, stood against the forward bulkhead, and over it hung the dingiest whale oil lantern that ever peopled the obscurity of a dungeon with ghostly shapes. The floor room unoccupied was not extensive. One might swing a cat in it, perhaps, but not a long cat. The hold forward of the bulkhead had but little freight in it, and from morning till night a portly old rooster, with a voice like Baalam's ass, and the same disposition to use it, strutted up and down in that part of the vessel and crowed. He usually took dinner at six o'clock, and then, after an hour devoted to meditation, he mounted a barrel and crowed a good part of the night. He got hoarser all the time, but he scorned to allow any personal consideration to interfere with his duty, and kept up his labors in defiance of threatened diphtheria.

    Sleeping was out of the question when the rooster was on watch. He was a source of genuine aggravation and annoyance. It was worse than useless to shout at him or apply offensive epithets to him--he only took these things for applause, and strained himself to make more noise. Occasionally, during the day, I threw potatoes at him through an aperture in the bulkhead, but he only dodged and went on crowing.

    The first night, as I lay in my coffin, idly watching the dim lamp swinging to the rolling of the ship, and snuffing the nauseous odors of bilge water, I felt something gallop over me. I turned out promptly. However, I turned in again when I found it was only a rat. Presently something galloped over me once more. I knew it was not a rat this time, and I thought it might be a centipede, because the Captain had killed one on deck in the afternoon. I turned out. The first glance at the pillow showed me repulsive sentinel perched upon each end of it--cockroaches as large as peach leaves--fellows with long, quivering antennae and fiery, malignant eyes. They were grating their teeth like tobacco worms, and appeared to be dissatisfied about something. I had often heard that these reptiles were in the habit of eating off sleeping sailors' toe nails down to the quick, and I would not get in the bunk any more. I lay down on the floor. But a rat came and bothered me, and shortly afterward a procession of cockroaches arrived and camped in my hair. In a few moments the rooster was crowing with uncommon spirit and a party of fleas were throwing double somersaults about my person in the wildest disorder, and taking a bite every time they struck. I was beginning to feel really annoyed. I got up and put my clothes on and went on deck.

    It was compensation for my sufferings to come unexpectedly upon so beautiful a scene as met my eye--to step suddenly out of the sepulchral gloom of the cabin and stand under the strong light of the moon--in the centre, as it were, of a glittering sea of liquid silver--to see the broad sails straining in the gale, the ship heeled over on her side, the angry foam hissing past her lee bulwarks, and sparkling sheets of spray dashing high over her bows and raining upon her decks; to brace myself and hang fast to the first object that presented itself, with hat jammed down and coat tails whipping in the breeze, and feel that exhilaration that thrills in one's hair and quivers down his back bone when he knows that every inch of canvas is drawing and the vessel cleaving through the waves at her utmost speed. There was no darkness, no dimness, no obscurity there. All was brightness, every object was vividly defined. Every coil of rope; every calabash of poi; every puppy; every seam in the flooring; every bolthead; every object; however minute, showed sharp and distinct in its every outline; and the shadow of the broad mainsail lay black as a pall upon the deck, leaving Billings's white upturned face glorified and his body in a total eclipse. "

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    Last edited by sleddog; 08-17-2018 at 12:59 PM.

  2. #2762
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    Sep 2007
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    "Damn sail is covering my window, can't see what we hit..."
    "Cayn't see what ya'll hit either, Newt. But if ya'll back her down, we should be free."
    Last edited by sleddog; 08-17-2018 at 01:20 PM.

  3. #2763
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    Jan 2013
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    Montara, CA
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    I'm danged impress the J-boat is barely sitting much below her water line and the mast is still standing. Ad people need to be all over this one....

  4. #2764
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    Sep 2007
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    Quote Originally Posted by Gamayun View Post
    I'm danged impress the J-boat is barely sitting much below her water line and the mast is still standing. Ad people need to be all over this one....
    Looks like that J-105 needs stronger lifelines.
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  5. #2765
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    Sep 2007
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    Begs the question: is half a winch better than none? Might consider bronze in the future.
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  6. #2766
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    Sep 2007
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    Quote Originally Posted by sleddog View Post
    With the conclusion of the 2018 Singlehanded Transpac, those of us not at Tree Time in Hanalei are left with more questions than answers. What worked? What didn't? How would you do it differently
    If you've singlehanded to/from Hawaii, I invite you to list 3 of your most valuable (MVP) and/or least valuable (LVP) techniques, equipment, food, sails, etc.

    From the author's perspective, #1 is shade and cooling assistance. WILDFLOWER carried a reefable, tiltable, 100 sq. foot, cockpit awning that I rolled out each morning, and rolled up each afternoon as the sun went over the yard arm. The awning, a poor man's Bimini, went from the stern 12 feet forward, covering the companionway hatch. But was small enough to allow forward and upward vision of the spinnaker luff/Windex from the helm. Besides this shade, WF carried a flower mister squirter and Hella fan over the bunk. The low draw 2 speed Hella fan was a treat in itself, making sleeping possible below decks in the warmth of tropical latitudes. The mister was like cheap AC, only $1.99.

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    #2 was 2 bean bag chairs. Lightweight, they could be positioned just about anywhere for comfort, making steering long hours a pleasure, rather than a chore. I covered them with washable terry cloth towels. Total combined weight = 6 pounds. When on deck, they were secured to the boat with a tagline.

    #3 was a smallish hatch (10"x16") in the floor of the cockpit, directly over the (aft) sea bunk. No only did this hatch provide light and air, but also a view of the masthead Windex. The hatch also allowed the tiller pilot to be adjusted with my head on the pillow, as well as easy access to the main and jib sheet, and engine throttle/shift on the return passages. If I felt the beginning of rain drops, I knew a squall was impending, and time to take action.
    Last edited by sleddog; 08-20-2018 at 08:36 AM.

  7. #2767
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    May 2015
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    MVP
    1. Tell tale on backstay, which I could see easily from ...
    2. The 1 foot wide matress on the cabin floor, where I spent the most time compared to other spots.
    3. A dry erase board.

  8. #2768
    pogen's Avatar
    pogen is offline Sailing canoe "Kūʻaupaʻa"
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    Nov 2008
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    #1. My ancient chicken chute, that for some reason I rarely used during most of my sailing career. It turned out that for singlehanding it was a lifesaver, allowing me to have a good 5 day spin run before it blew up. Used in conjunction with the anti-wrap net. In contrast, I found my two-pole setup to be very hard to use, and gave up on it.

    #2 + #3. Data setup (small laptop + iPad + wifi boat data) and Pelagic wireless autopilot remote that let me wake up at 30 - 40 min intervals, take a quick look at apparent wind, make small heading adjustments to follow the wind, all without getting out of my bunk. So I could thereby fall back asleep very quickly without getting chilled. Getting adequate sleep and rest is vital on an event that lasts more than a few days.

  9. #2769
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    Dec 2012
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    Alameda CA
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    Since Skip already claimed Bean Bags I'll go with, in no particular order:
    Outgrabber
    Staysail
    Adaptability and Acceptance

    DH

  10. #2770
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    Sep 2007
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    1. downwind twin headsails on a common luff tape, the sail could be reefed on the roller furler - dial a windspeed.
    my sails were built by hood as 150% lp 1.5 oz.nylon triradial jib tops, brilliant in ddw conditions.

    2. weather data via saildocs.

    3. 0.9 airx 70% shy kite with no shoulders in the atn sock and the outgrabber - if the twins were too small, the shy kite took over.

    4. stan honey's alpha pilot software to steer to awa and twa.

    5. pre-cooked cheeseburger fozen hockey pucks.

    6. screaming meanie countdown timers/alarms.

    7. a good hat plus a white oxford english dress shirt to keep the sun off. my shirts stilll have fish blood burned into them.

    -rob/beetle

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