Other boat: demise thereof

Forgive the quality of the pictures, the film (and camera) spent
several hours soaking in salt water and baking in the sun.

I had a sunfish that I enjoyed puttering about with. Last weekend I disposed of this boat (or most of it anyway). I related this event to a friend and I thought it would go well here, so I post this tale for your perusal.

Dear Crab Camp:

I suggested that we take two boats Tuesday. I don't think that will work out anymore.

I finally managed to finish a treck years in the making.

I sailed a sunfish from Westport, MA to Martha's Vinyard! I suppose implicit in the planning for such a trip is a return to launch site. Aye there's the rub.Beautiful weather, close reach with brisk breeze for the whole trip out. I made the trip in about 3.5 hours. I figure speed average about 4 mph. I saw two Portugese Man-o-war jellyfish en route. It was a bit chilly, I should have worn the jacket, but once underway in a sunfish it's hard to do much other than sail unless conditions are smooth (which they weren't) and winds are mild (which they weren't).

view of Gooseberry Island in Westport, MA (where I launched)

When I made landfall, I sat in the sun with the best shelter I could find from the wind (which was almost nothing). I munched a couple of peanut butter and jellies and sucked a couple or four beers, then had to prepare for the return crossing.

clay cliffs of Martha's Vinyard

The return trip started off pretty well. Despite realitve warmth, I put the jacket (I had dried out and didn't feel cold anymore, but I anticipated it coming) on. As soon as I got into the water I was glad I had, it was cool again and the wind was stronger than on the beach.

I had a bit of difficulty shoving off. There were plenty of rocks in the area and I had to set up the boat while avoiding them. The rudder needs a couple of feet clear draft to mount and due to the swells, I had to push out a bit for it to be safe. The boat was pitching with the swells while I tried to hold it into the wind and slide the mounting pin into the rudder mount. Once this was done, it wasn't too bad getting the sail up, but the halyard was on the wrong side of the boom. I decided to just live with this rather than dismount the mast and move the halyard to its proper position. Sail up I could climb on the boat and slide between the rocks while I got the daggerboard into its trunk and took control.

My heading had me hauled close, but with side slipping and my position to the wind it looked like I would pass just south of the Elizabeth Islands then I could let out the sail a bit for Goosberry Neck where the trailer was.

Gosnold (Cuttyhunk) from just south of the island

This was all going pretty well. The wind was freshening a bit, but the forcast was only for 8 to 15 mph so I wasn't too concerned. This boat has handled stronger winds handily. I thought the boat was making way slower than it should for this sail position in the freshening wind I had but I assumed I was just feeling tired and impatient from a day of sailing the swells and fresh winds.

calm weather early in the day

I noticed that I was surfing more dramatically than I have ever felt it before on this boat when I got a following swell. I was enjoying this and making great headway. The seas were building to 6 feet, some appearing larger. There were frequent whitecaps. The cresting waves would break over the gunwales if they caught me broadside when they broke, but there was too much turbulant crossing of waves to avoid this much. I took a few good splashes over the bow as well.

still calm, but starting to pick up

Once past the Elizabeths into Buzzard's Bay I realized that the handling was sluggish. I eventually was sailing by the swells rather than the wind. Following swells would broach the stern swamping the cockpit and give me a good push. Riding swells I would list severly first to one side, then to the other as the wave passed under the hull. The sail was not causing heeling despite strong wind and a close position. The boat would heel to windward with the seas despite a strong pull on the mainsheet.

I began to think that the hull was sitting too low in the water. Some of the following seas would sink the bow while I surfed down the face of the wave. One of these rides had me head up and release the sheet while hiking as far as I could to keep the boat from capsizing. It became obvious that I was having problems with the hull. I lost the ability to control my heading. With the rudder full over the boat would turn against the steering. The sail was not pulling but the seas were pushing me toward Westport. I tried to use the sail to gain steerage, but I couldn't get response from the rudder.

I was making progress, but slowly. The deck was awash completely. I capsized to windward with the sail hauled tight and me hiking out to leeward. I righted the boat and got headed back to my course and was thrown over again.

I could see the land of Westport but it was too hazy to make out any detail or judge distance. A brand new 40' power boat that looked like a tugboat but with luxury accomodations, no towing facilities, a zodiac tender in tow and a crew of one aproached and asked if I was having difficulties. I said I had done better on other days. He asked If I could use a bit of help. I suggested he could drag me a half mile to shore if he wanted to be helpful. He said I was 5 miles out, then he said something I couldn't hear too well but I assume it meant he wouldn't soil his vessel by attaching it to such an eyesore as mine.

I remember that the bay is only about six miles across and that I was more than half way to Westport. He offered to call Sea Tow or the coast guard for me. While this conversation was going on his boat drifted to windward of me and right into me pushing me under his bow. He said I had no business being out there in such a boat as mine. I thought he had no business being out there at all. I shouted that he should either help out or get away from me. My sunfish bumped along his hull then came back into the wind and capsized again.

I righted the boat and mannaged to manouver clear of the helpess complainant.

I found that a bag that had been lashed to the deck was dragging in the water to my windward side and fighting the rudder to pull the bow into the wind. With the bag out I could steer a bit better but I got thrown over a few more times. I pulled the daggerboard and was able to sail without listing as badly with the waves. I made straight for shore and landed within an hour or so.

I beached the boat but couldn't pull the hull up the beach at all. I stripped away sail, daggerboard and rudder and moved it up the beach. I found a man walking the beach and got directions to where I had left the trailer. I jogged and walked about four miles barefoot across gravel and Rosa Ragossa, then along the street to the vehicle.

I drove along the shore trying to find access to the beach so I could drag my boat out. I found that the beach I landed on was a private beach with locked gates called Barney's Joy Farm Beach. It was a beautiful place. I could understand why Barny found joy there. Unfortunately I couldn't find any people. There was no one at the office, the garage, the neighbor's house, the parking lot nor on the beach. I parked at a locked gate and walked a couple of miles of dirt roads through scenic pastures and sand dunes, then down the beach until I found the debris that was my boat. I carried the sail, daggerboard and rudder about a mile up a different road back to the vehicle and headed home without the hull.

The doomed vessel posthumously named "pindupindu" which is
Swahili for cholera, literally "head over heels" or "roll over and over"

I hope Barny enjoys the hull. It was a good little boat before it took all that water on.

I suppose I'm in the market for another sunfish hull now. "Market" may be too snooty a word. The hull I lost was free and I expect the next one to run about the same price range.

So you see, I don't think I'll be able to bring a boat along for the Fourth of July sail. Let me know if you think I should take family along or if your boat's too small for that entourage. We could also consider kayaking, but I'm a little tired just now so a nice leisurly sail might be just the thing!

Rat Man