Hilton Head Island: sailed—a little

 

Saturday morning Carol walked down to GANNET with me at 8:30.  I had prepared the little boat the day before.  The Evo was on the stern.  The Pelagic tiller pilot in place although that proved futile.  The interior in semi-passage mode with the dinner food bag and a clothes bag that normally live on the port pipe berth moved forward to the v-berth and my sleeping bag and pillow moved aft to the pipe berth.  The anchor and rode deployment bag were under the forward hatch. I wanted to leave early to have some of the tide with me.  It was due to change and start coming in at the mouth of Skull Creek at 10:30.  

Light wind from the northwest required some use of outboard reverse, which I don’t like, but our exit from the slip went as planned and I waved goodby to Carol and we were off on a sunny morning.  Only light wind was forecast and I accepted that once the tide turned we might not get out of Port Royal Sound.  I was pleasantly surprised to be able to raise the main as we rounded the curve of Skull Creek and then the jib when we reached the sound and GANNET moved at 4 knots toward the ocean.  She has not been antifouled now for more than two years, but I had a diver clean the bottom two days earlier, so she slipped smoothly through green water.  It was good to be sailing again after so long.

Our speed dropped to 3 knots as we passed Hilton Head and entered the Atlantic.  Shoals extend out five miles on both sides of the entrance channel, some with water too shallow even for GANNET.  While in the sound the water is mostly 30’ to 50’ feet deep and there is room for a fleet to anchor, I am impressed that ships were able to enter in the days of sail in vessels that did not go well to windward.  I expect they anchored off, sent boats in to reconnoiter, and waited for a favorable wind angle.

I reconnoitered those shoals myself that morning.  In light conditions I could see slight white crests on some of them, but about three miles out the surface of the water was smooth and I eased off and headed for an area that on the iSailor chart shows a minimum of 11’ of water, hand steering and moving my glance constantly from the water ahead and the depthsounder.  Even though it was then low tide, I never saw a depth less than 22’ before it became deeper and we were through to 30’ and more, where we would remain, and I returned the tiller to the Raymarine, not the Pelagic.

Most equipment on GANNET worked at it should despite not having been used for too long, but regrettably the Pelagic was not among them.  It failed three separate ways.  First the remotes did not work.  I have two and had never used the second one.  I changed the batteries in both to no avail.  Not being able to control a tiller pilot from the companionway without having to move to the aft end of the cockpit and push buttons is in light and moderate conditions a mere inconvenience.  In heavier weather it can be difficult and hazardous.  That day only inconvenient, until while we were still in Port Royal Sound, the Pelagic suddenly and inexorably extended the tiller arm full out which of course resulted in a sharp undesired turn.  I switched it from auto to standby, corrected course, centered the tiller arm, and tried again.  And again in a few minutes the arm went full out.  I had moved one of my three remaining Raymarines from the duffle bag in which they are stowed at the forward end of the v-berth farther aft just in case.  A good idea.  I ducked below and brought it up and set it steering.  I have owned more Raymarines than I remember.  I mark the year bought on the back of them with a Magic Marker and by chance the one I had pulled from the bag was bought in 2015.  A true survivor.  Later in the day I changed the batteries in its remote and found that worked too.

To move ahead and conclude about the Pelagic, once at anchor I tried to test it again.  There was no response to any of the buttons on the control panel.  Not then.  Or the next morning.  Or back in the slip.

I like the design of the Pelagic.  I want it to work.  I assume they must work for others.  But I have now had two models, one a prototype, this a production model, and they have never worked for very long for me.

I can get by with sheet to tiller steering alone.  Even better with the addition of Raymarines which are fine up to the point where water starts coming over the deck.

I am still thinking about this, but I do not have confidence in Pelagic and don’t see how I ever can.

More Raymarines may be in my future.

I reclined in a Sportaseat in the cockpit as we sailed pleasantly at 3 knots toward Charleston until 2 PM when the wind died and the rippled ocean went glassy.  I anchored in 35’ of water 5 miles offshore and drank a Heineken 0 and ate cheese and salami and crackers Carol had prepared for my lunch.  Last Christmas she gave me a small Yeti cooler.  My beer was cold and I had ice for my Botanist gin in the evening.  I have become decadent in my old age.

I retired to the Great Cabin to get out of the sun and continued reading LORD JIM until around 6 when I poured some gin over ice and took it and the Boom 2 speakers on deck and sat sipping and listening to music as the sun sank toward the low land to the west.

I slept well that night.  The ocean was as smooth as a good anchorage.

With cursed Daylight Time, dawn here now isn’t until 7:30.  I was up at first light and underway by 7:30.  The same light wind as the day before.  GANNET making the same pleasant indolent 3 knots.  At 10 I still had 45 miles to be off Charleston Harbor and I knew I wasn’t going to make it before dark and that I would not attempt to enter the harbor after dark.  As you may know I almost never enter harbors after dark.  There have been a few rare exceptions, one is Port Royal Sound.  And despite the light wind, the forecast was for more than twenty knots to come up during the night, making just anchoring wherever I found myself at sunset untenable.  There are sounds and inlets to the west in which I could seek refuge, but all have miles long narrow entrance channels which I would have mostly to power in and out.  I had removed the battery from the Evo when we anchored Saturday afternoon and it was still charging.  I had swapped it out for the second fully charged battery, but even so our range under power is limited and uncertain and I don’t like to power, so I turned and headed back which instantly improved our day.

The wind was blowing at 4 or 5 knots directly from Port Royal Sound and with the apparent wind increased rather than decreased GANNET heeled slightly and began making 4 and 5 knots.  Not fast, but good sailing and it soon became apparent we would be back in the sound before sunset.

After several tacks we were approaching the shoal on the east side of the entrance channel in mid-afternoon.  Again the water was smooth and we were closehauled on port tack headed for an area where the chart showed as little as 6’ of water.  GANNET’s draft is 4’1” and we were heeled.  There were no waves, only ripples.  I remembered the greater depth than shown on the chart on the way out and continued on, prepared to tack instantly if the depthsounder showed 15’.  It never did.  The lowest reading was 19’.  Once the depth returned to over 30’ I eased the sheets and the wind increased and on a beam reach the little boat romped toward the mouth of the sound at 7 and 8 knots.  Glorious.

I planned to sail up the sound until we were just north of the entrance to Skull Creek and anchor for the night.  I thought I could have made it to the marina, but was happy to remain on the water for another night. 

Halfway up the sound I moved the anchor and rode deployment bag on deck. 

Two miles south of Skull Creek, the wind suddenly died.  It was as though someone had flipped a switch.  I let us drift for a few minutes hoping it would return, but when it didn’t I went forward and eased the anchor over the side.  We were in 40’ of water.  I had tied the rode off at about 70’ to set the anchor.  When I felt it catch, I eased out another 50’ of rode.  By the time I had done that the wind had returned.  After a few expletives, I decided to remain where we were, for which I paid a price the next morning.

The wind picked up during the night as forecast and we bounced around more in the sound than we had the previous night exposed in the ocean.  Still I slept well enough and was again awake around 6.  I turned on one of the solar lights and drank apple juice and a cup of coffee and read.  Later in the morning I emailed Carol—I had cell phone coverage—that I was going to wait for the tide to turn at noon before heading in.

The wind continued to build and was soon gusting 20 knots directly out of Skull Creek.  Had I been able to anchor where I planned on Sunday, reaching the mouth of the creek would have been an easy half mile reach.  Now it was a difficult two mile beat.

6” to 12” white crested wavelets covered the sound when I started bringing in the anchor rode at 11.  I am the windlass and it was hard work pulling even light GANNET forward against wind and tide, holding every 5’ or 10’ with my right hand while flaking the rode into the deployment bag with my left.  Finally, gratefully, I felt the anchor break free, got the rest of the rode and it on deck, then below on the v-berth, and hurried aft to set the jib.  I thought I could beat my way to the creek under jib alone.  It soon became obvious I couldn’t.  I partially furled the jib and raised the main.  This got us going at 3 and 4 knots, heeled gunnel deep.  I furled more of the jib and got GANNET back more on her bottom and began tacking.  However I was disappointed to find that the clutch holding the main halyard allowed it to slip a few inches causing a sag at the tack of the mainsail.  This had happened in the past and I had installed a new clutch designed to hold line the size of GANNET’s main halyard.  It worked for a while.  Perhaps the line had stretched and become thinner.   

While most of the sound is deep, there are shoals, some unmarked.  I had to keep glancing at the iSailor chart on my iPhone which I had with me in the cockpit, usually stowed in one of the sheet bags, to keep clear of them.  The wind was too gusty for the Raymarine, swinging from 8 or 9 knots to 20 and 21, so except when I put the tiller in the Raymarine to tack, I hand steered.

Being pushed back by wind and tide, it took us an hour to get to Skull Creek, where I furled the jib, engaged the Evo, then lowered the main and powered at 2 to 2.5 knots, now partially tide aided the 1.8 miles to the marina and our slip where we tied up at about 1 pm.

I had to hand steer some of that as well as the wind and tide kept pushing GANNET around.  I was able to use the Raymarine long enough to drink another Heineken 0 and set up the fenders and dock lines.

I checked the Evo battery and it was still at 84% when we reached the slip, so I could have powered faster or farther had I wanted to.

I received a new Yellowbrick, this a model 3, a few days before we sailed.  My previous one was a model 2 and more than ten years old.  Yellowbrick sent an email about a sale, so I decided to replace it.  The two units look the same, but the 3 sends up positions in much less time, reportedly has much better battery life, is obviously much more powerful, and is considerably less expensive.  My memory is that I paid almost $900 for the Model 2 ten or eleven years ago.  The Model 3 on sale was $500. 

I took the new Yellowbrick down to GANNET to test it and after sending up a manual position which appeared on the tracking page, which is the same as the old tracking page, left the unit on the boat, but forgot to turn it off.  It was stowed in the compartment at the head of the starboard pipe berth with the antenna pointed forward away from the main hatch’s clear view of the sky and under a counter top.  I had it set to upload positions every two hours and as you can see it did and they were received.  I am impressed.  

Also note the one aberrant position.  Most were very close to the true position, but that one was not.  A lesson learned.

I am glad to have sailed a little, to have spent time on the water, and live the routine of boat life again.

I pause.

I like living here.  I like having GANNET so close.  But the truth is these are waters for power boats.