| Title: | SAILING |
| Notice: | Please read Note 2.* before participating in this conference |
| Moderator: | UNIFIX::BERENS |
| Created: | Wed Jul 01 1992 |
| Last Modified: | Mon Jun 02 1997 |
| Last Successful Update: | Fri Jun 06 1997 |
| Number of topics: | 2299 |
| Total number of notes: | 20724 |
I love to sail and have done a fair amount if sailing, but some days I
just shouldn't go near the water.
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The 14th Street Railroad Bridge
Remember the 14th Street railroad bridge in Washington D.C. that the
airplane hit just after taking off from National Airport? Well, I hit
the same bridge with the mast of an old 14' wooden sailboat and knocked
the mast right down.
I had a friend with me who kept saying, "Are you sure the mast will fit
under the bridge?", to which I kept replying, "Sure it will." It was
short by at least a foot. So much for my depth perception. We managed
to jury rig it halfway back up and limp back to the "marina", aptly named
Buzzard's Point.
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Buzzard's Point
I say "aptly" because it was even more of a disaster than my sailing was.
Maintenance consisted of posting signs everywhere that read, "Proceed
at own risk." It was owned by a lawyer back then (mid 60's). I have
no idea if it even exists any more.
The population consisted largely of live-aboards whose "vessels" were
homemade plywood shacks on 55-gallon drums. They generally had water,
heat, telephone, and electricity, with flower pots on their "porches"
to add some brightness to the uniform gray of unfinished wood and black
tarpaper. On the other hand, they paid $10/month rent and no property
taxes.
One spring day there was a big storm with a big surge at high tide, and
a moon tide at that. The water rose to 20' above normal, which was a
good 10' above the dock. All those "boats", among which were some good
sized real boats, pulled the entire dock system up by its roots, and
the whole thing, boats and all, went floating down the Anacostia River
in the direction of the Atlantic Ocean. They had to send a tug boat
out to haul the whole thing back.
To give you an idea what life was like there, one day we were sitting
at a picnic table outside the marina office having a beer and enjoying
the weather and the oasis of peace and quiet in the midst of downtown
Washington, when a man ran in the marina entrance, across the yard, and
out the other side into a bunch of bushes. We all thought that was
odd, since there was really no place to go in those bushes. A few
seconds later another man ran in the entrance looking around wildly and
brandishing a gun.
Almost in unison we all pointed to where the first man had run into the
bushes, then breathed a sigh of relief when the man with the gun
disappeared into the same bushes. Never heard from them again.
| T.R | Title | User | Personal Name | Date | Lines |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1323.1 | Sounds like a good news/bad news joke | ATSE::GOODWIN | Mon Aug 28 1989 15:19 | 68 | |
I really don't do well with masts. A few years after Buzzards Point, I
finally was able to purchase my first "big" sailboat -- a Danish-built
Folkboat. She was a beautiful boat, but needed a little fixing up, so
I started working on her in her slip in Annapolis, Maryland.
Unfortunately, the slip was not mine and the marina owner said I could
stay there only because he thought he was going to be doing the repair
work. As soon as he saw me doing it he threw me out. Fortunately I
had found a slip about 25 miles further down the Chesapeake, so one
fine Saturday some friends and I set sail -- my first one on that
boat -- for my new slip.
I never really figured out exactly why the mast broke. I think it was
a combination of factors. It was not the original mast for the wooden
boat, it was an aluminum one that on afterthought looked like it might
have been a little too small for the boat. Also, it had a slight twist
in the top 2 or 3 feet -- something I ignored because the surveyor
ignored it. Also, and probably more important, I had a 150 Genoa up
in a wind that was too strong for it according to the Coastie who
bailed me out.
Anyhow, we were 5 miles out of Annapolis and were in no mood to have our
disasters one at a time. After the mast and sails came crashing down
we bobbed about for a while recovering from the shock and talked about
what to do.
Fortunately my boat had a one-lunger hand-crank diesel engine.
Unfortunately, the pump and injectors were still in Baltimore being
serviced.
Fortunately we had a radio.
Unfortunately the radio antenna had been the backstay, which was now
under water along with the mast and sails.
Following the advice in Chapman's we started waving life preservers over
our heads to attract the attention of the nearby fishing boats, all of
whom steadfastly ignored us until we got tired of waving the life
preservers.
Finally we found a piece of wire and attached it to the radio. While
my friend held the other end of the wire up in the air as high as he
could, I radioed the Coast Guard, whose antenna mast in Annapolis was
clearly visible from where we were.
In spite of our attempts to describe our position, the Coasties found
us anyway. I was very impressed. Naturally I -- as official Captain
-- had to be the one to stand on the foredeck and catch the tow line
from the Coast Guard boat. It knocked my glasses into the water, never
to be seen again.
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An interesting footnote to this concerns diesel engines -- when I
finally got the pump and injector back I installed them and started the
engine. I was gratified to hear it start immediately and run like it
was in a marathon. After a minute or two I decided to turn it off,
which was accomplished by moving the throttle control all the way down.
The engine didn't even slow down. I had apparently installed the
throttle incorrectly and it was determined to run the engine as fast as
it could no matter what I did. That's the only time I have regretted
not having any electrical system on a diesel engine. And no shutoff
valve between the engine and the fuel tank, which I had naturally
filled right up to the top before testing the engine.
Thank goodness I had a wrench to fit the fuel line and was able to
disconnect it and hold my finger over it until the engine stopped.
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| 1323.2 | Dismasting topic? | SQLRUS::EASTLAND | Mon Aug 28 1989 16:11 | 9 | |
I hate to admit it or the circumstances that caused it but I knocked
the mast off of a Tanzer 22 we used to own by sailing under the B&M
railroad bridge on the Annisquam river in Gloucester while it was
(ahem) in the "down" position. Luckily all we got was a ding and some
mildly bent chainplates (and a salutary lesson in sobriety)
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