- 2022-04-23 Dory Log 6.5-inch.jpg (3.33 MiB) Viewed 1753 times
The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
Moderator: Jim Walsh
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
Sunday, April 24, 2022
[Note: Sorry, no photos today—it was far too boisterous for that! It looks like I need a waterproof camera.]
Today made the second day in a row that I have intentionally exceeded my 12-knot wind threshold for sailing Dory. The text-based forecasts for today were quite similar to yesterday, but the hour-by-hour graphs predicted about 4 knots more wind. The nearby weather stations were already showing more wind when I left the house today than yesterday, so it looked like a good opportunity to see if I could push my go/no-go sailing threshold of 20 knots that I set yesterday a little higher.
I prepped for today’s trip the mostly same as yesterday: I tied the reef in the mainsail, hanked on the jib and lashed it down, stowed all my personal electronic gear down below. It was warm—upper 70s—so I delayed donning my navy blue waterproof windbreaker, black rain pants, and inflatable life vest until just before I cast off the docklines to avoid working up a sweat like I had yesterday. It didn’t work. By the time I had removed and coiled the docklines the dark-colored fabrics had soaked up the sun’s rays, and a little river of sweat was already running down my back. It looks like I need some light-weight, light-color foul weather gear.
1313 Under way.
When I exited the bayou it was clear that the conditions were rougher than yesterday. The boat was bouncing around in the waves a lot more, and the outboard was struggling more to keep the boat moving. Yet it was so wet that I actually backed the throttle off from full revs. By reducing our speed from 4 knots down to 3½ the spray was less intense. I still got soaked, but it didn’t seem as wet. That is, except for my shoes, which got really wet. Dory was gyrating wildly in the rough conditions in Bayou Chico Channel, and her scuppers kept picking up a layer of sea water an inch or two thick and sloshing it around in the cockpit. Within seconds my shoes were not just wet from spray, they were fully immersed. It looks like I need a pair of sea boots to keep my feet dry.
The water sloshing in the cockpit was so bad a few times that I wondered if I should have left the hatch boards in the companionway to keep the water from sloshing over the companionway sill. Unfortunately, it was too late to do anything about it. It looks like I need to remember to leave the companionway boards in place before I go sailing.
A few of the bigger waves knocked Dory’s speed down to zero, and with the propeller abaft the rudder there was no prop wash to help push the boat around in the water. Dory struggled to maintain steerage way even under power. In the larger waves, the prop was cavitating and revving wildly. It looks like I need a bigger engine with a longer shaft.
We slowly made our way out to deep water, and I started to raise the mainsail. In my preparations at the dock I had forgotten to untie the mainsheet tail, which was still hanging in a nice coil above my head. I had also forgotten to loosen the boom downhaul from its cleat. In lighter conditions these little mistakes don’t matter—I have plenty of time to take care of them if I have forgotten—but in the heavy weather we had today, I can’t afford to waste any time. It looks like I need a pre-sail checklist.
By the time I had fixed these things Dory’s bow had blown some 60 degrees off the wind. I was having trouble getting the outboard to push her head up into the wind. I eventually figured out that, with the helm hard over and the outboard’s throttle at about ¾, she would sort of heave-to by herself under power, with her bow about 30 degrees off the wind. With Dory thus able to look after herself (more or less), I finally got the mainsail up and drawing. To raise the jib, I first had to go forward to untie the sail stop, but with the mainsail now up, the engine heave-to trick no longer worked, so I wound up running up to the foredeck, untying the sail stop, and running back to the cockpit as quickly as possible, before Dory could tack or gybe herself. It was a dicey maneuver. It looks like I need an autopilot to steer the boat while I raise the sails, plus a battery to power the autopilot, and an electrical panel, and wiring, and some way to charge the battery.
Once I was under way I headed on a close reach for Navy Point. I figured that sailing close hauled would have us smashing into the waves with all the commensurate spray flying off the bow and keeping me soaked, so bearing off for Navy Point seemed like a good idea. Unfortunately, we had so much sail up for the wind that we were tearing off at over 5½ knots, and the spray was intense. Just for grins I hauled the sheets in tight and sailed close hauled. Dory’s speed dropped to around 3 knots, and even though the angle on the waves was more direct, the spray didn’t seem as bad. So we beat upwind. The wind was strong enough that the reefed main and jib were too much sail, and I had to ease the mainsheet and let the mainsail luff just to avoid filling the cockpit with water when Dory heeled. It looks like I need to get the sailmaker to sew a second reef in the mainsail, and maybe a third. A storm jib wouldn’t hurt either, or maybe switching to roller furling on the jib so I can reduce sail that way.
I spent 40 minutes beating upwind towards Old Navy Cove. I kept thinking that the farther upwind I sailed the less fetch I would have, and the easier the sailing would be, but it seemed that the longer I beat upwind, the worse it got. Dory was laboring in the conditions, overpowered, heeling excessively, and getting swatted by waves until her speed dropped to near zero and she became sluggish on the helm; she wasn’t the happy little yacht that she was yesterday. Finally, I started hearing a little tap-scrunch noise coming from the mast every time we went over a big wave. The noise, which happens when the mast base pin scrapes against the mast tabernacle, is Dory’s way of telling me that the lower shrouds are too loose and she is trying to move the mast around in its base. She hadn’t made that noise in a year or two—ever since I had properly tensioned the rigging. I looked down at the turnbuckles on the leeward side of the boat, and sure enough, all the pressure on the windward shrouds had stretched them, and the leeward lowers were a bit wobbly. It looks like I need to re-tension the rigging. And get a tension gauge.
At 1415 I had had enough, and I was feeling bad about torturing poor little Dory. I bore off the wind and headed for the bayou. The apparent wind instantly dropped by a good 8 knots, and suddenly everything was much smoother. The shrouds had stopped wobbling, the mast base had topped tapping, the helm was light and responsive, and we were scooting along at 5+ knots. Dory was happy again and so was I. It looks like I need to always sail downwind.
In 15 minutes of downwind sailing we covered all the distance that it had taken 40 minutes to sail on our way upwind. I sailed up the channel into the bayou, and dropped the jib while running downwind as we passed the yacht club. Usually I just drop the mainsail by grabbing the boom and pulling it by hand to the centerline of the boat, clipping the pendant from the backstay onto the end of the boom to support it, and letting go the halyard. In yesterday’s strong breeze it was difficult to haul the boom to center to clip on the pendant. I did it, but it wasn’t easy. Today, for the first time ever, I actually started the outboard first, motor-sailed past the marina to the open basin beyond, turned upwind, and dropped the mainsail under power. It looks like I need to replace the backstay pendant with a topping lift. And it looks like I need to motor a lot more.
1450 Back at dock. 1 hour 37 minutes, 6.7 nautical miles under way.
By the time we got back to the dock, my wet weather gear had mostly dried, but my T-shirt and pants underneath were damp. Whether it was from sweat or from the lack of waterproofness of my gear I cannot say. More importantly, my shoes were still wet and squishy, and I realized that I forgot to pack a fresh pair of socks. I definitely need to bring an extra pair of socks. It looks like I need to bring a full change of clothes, too.
Although today’s wind was only about 5 knots higher than yesterday, the difference between Force 5 and Force 6 conditions is substantial for a little boat like Dory. When I look back on today’s sail and tally up all the things Dory might need just to sail properly in those conditions, I am discouraged. Dory was meant to be a small, simple, inexpensive boat, and I do not want to lose that simplicity. I still want to sail more often than the weather has been allowing us to sail lately, but not at the cost of Dory’s character. Yesterday’s and today’s sails have been very informative, and they clearly indicate that I need to stick to sailing in winds of under 20 knots. Above that, Dory really is not happy; below that, it’s a piece of cake. Mmmm, cake. It looks like I need a piece of cake.
Smooth sailing,
Jim
[Note: Sorry, no photos today—it was far too boisterous for that! It looks like I need a waterproof camera.]
Today made the second day in a row that I have intentionally exceeded my 12-knot wind threshold for sailing Dory. The text-based forecasts for today were quite similar to yesterday, but the hour-by-hour graphs predicted about 4 knots more wind. The nearby weather stations were already showing more wind when I left the house today than yesterday, so it looked like a good opportunity to see if I could push my go/no-go sailing threshold of 20 knots that I set yesterday a little higher.
I prepped for today’s trip the mostly same as yesterday: I tied the reef in the mainsail, hanked on the jib and lashed it down, stowed all my personal electronic gear down below. It was warm—upper 70s—so I delayed donning my navy blue waterproof windbreaker, black rain pants, and inflatable life vest until just before I cast off the docklines to avoid working up a sweat like I had yesterday. It didn’t work. By the time I had removed and coiled the docklines the dark-colored fabrics had soaked up the sun’s rays, and a little river of sweat was already running down my back. It looks like I need some light-weight, light-color foul weather gear.
1313 Under way.
When I exited the bayou it was clear that the conditions were rougher than yesterday. The boat was bouncing around in the waves a lot more, and the outboard was struggling more to keep the boat moving. Yet it was so wet that I actually backed the throttle off from full revs. By reducing our speed from 4 knots down to 3½ the spray was less intense. I still got soaked, but it didn’t seem as wet. That is, except for my shoes, which got really wet. Dory was gyrating wildly in the rough conditions in Bayou Chico Channel, and her scuppers kept picking up a layer of sea water an inch or two thick and sloshing it around in the cockpit. Within seconds my shoes were not just wet from spray, they were fully immersed. It looks like I need a pair of sea boots to keep my feet dry.
The water sloshing in the cockpit was so bad a few times that I wondered if I should have left the hatch boards in the companionway to keep the water from sloshing over the companionway sill. Unfortunately, it was too late to do anything about it. It looks like I need to remember to leave the companionway boards in place before I go sailing.
A few of the bigger waves knocked Dory’s speed down to zero, and with the propeller abaft the rudder there was no prop wash to help push the boat around in the water. Dory struggled to maintain steerage way even under power. In the larger waves, the prop was cavitating and revving wildly. It looks like I need a bigger engine with a longer shaft.
We slowly made our way out to deep water, and I started to raise the mainsail. In my preparations at the dock I had forgotten to untie the mainsheet tail, which was still hanging in a nice coil above my head. I had also forgotten to loosen the boom downhaul from its cleat. In lighter conditions these little mistakes don’t matter—I have plenty of time to take care of them if I have forgotten—but in the heavy weather we had today, I can’t afford to waste any time. It looks like I need a pre-sail checklist.
By the time I had fixed these things Dory’s bow had blown some 60 degrees off the wind. I was having trouble getting the outboard to push her head up into the wind. I eventually figured out that, with the helm hard over and the outboard’s throttle at about ¾, she would sort of heave-to by herself under power, with her bow about 30 degrees off the wind. With Dory thus able to look after herself (more or less), I finally got the mainsail up and drawing. To raise the jib, I first had to go forward to untie the sail stop, but with the mainsail now up, the engine heave-to trick no longer worked, so I wound up running up to the foredeck, untying the sail stop, and running back to the cockpit as quickly as possible, before Dory could tack or gybe herself. It was a dicey maneuver. It looks like I need an autopilot to steer the boat while I raise the sails, plus a battery to power the autopilot, and an electrical panel, and wiring, and some way to charge the battery.
Once I was under way I headed on a close reach for Navy Point. I figured that sailing close hauled would have us smashing into the waves with all the commensurate spray flying off the bow and keeping me soaked, so bearing off for Navy Point seemed like a good idea. Unfortunately, we had so much sail up for the wind that we were tearing off at over 5½ knots, and the spray was intense. Just for grins I hauled the sheets in tight and sailed close hauled. Dory’s speed dropped to around 3 knots, and even though the angle on the waves was more direct, the spray didn’t seem as bad. So we beat upwind. The wind was strong enough that the reefed main and jib were too much sail, and I had to ease the mainsheet and let the mainsail luff just to avoid filling the cockpit with water when Dory heeled. It looks like I need to get the sailmaker to sew a second reef in the mainsail, and maybe a third. A storm jib wouldn’t hurt either, or maybe switching to roller furling on the jib so I can reduce sail that way.
I spent 40 minutes beating upwind towards Old Navy Cove. I kept thinking that the farther upwind I sailed the less fetch I would have, and the easier the sailing would be, but it seemed that the longer I beat upwind, the worse it got. Dory was laboring in the conditions, overpowered, heeling excessively, and getting swatted by waves until her speed dropped to near zero and she became sluggish on the helm; she wasn’t the happy little yacht that she was yesterday. Finally, I started hearing a little tap-scrunch noise coming from the mast every time we went over a big wave. The noise, which happens when the mast base pin scrapes against the mast tabernacle, is Dory’s way of telling me that the lower shrouds are too loose and she is trying to move the mast around in its base. She hadn’t made that noise in a year or two—ever since I had properly tensioned the rigging. I looked down at the turnbuckles on the leeward side of the boat, and sure enough, all the pressure on the windward shrouds had stretched them, and the leeward lowers were a bit wobbly. It looks like I need to re-tension the rigging. And get a tension gauge.
At 1415 I had had enough, and I was feeling bad about torturing poor little Dory. I bore off the wind and headed for the bayou. The apparent wind instantly dropped by a good 8 knots, and suddenly everything was much smoother. The shrouds had stopped wobbling, the mast base had topped tapping, the helm was light and responsive, and we were scooting along at 5+ knots. Dory was happy again and so was I. It looks like I need to always sail downwind.
In 15 minutes of downwind sailing we covered all the distance that it had taken 40 minutes to sail on our way upwind. I sailed up the channel into the bayou, and dropped the jib while running downwind as we passed the yacht club. Usually I just drop the mainsail by grabbing the boom and pulling it by hand to the centerline of the boat, clipping the pendant from the backstay onto the end of the boom to support it, and letting go the halyard. In yesterday’s strong breeze it was difficult to haul the boom to center to clip on the pendant. I did it, but it wasn’t easy. Today, for the first time ever, I actually started the outboard first, motor-sailed past the marina to the open basin beyond, turned upwind, and dropped the mainsail under power. It looks like I need to replace the backstay pendant with a topping lift. And it looks like I need to motor a lot more.
1450 Back at dock. 1 hour 37 minutes, 6.7 nautical miles under way.
By the time we got back to the dock, my wet weather gear had mostly dried, but my T-shirt and pants underneath were damp. Whether it was from sweat or from the lack of waterproofness of my gear I cannot say. More importantly, my shoes were still wet and squishy, and I realized that I forgot to pack a fresh pair of socks. I definitely need to bring an extra pair of socks. It looks like I need to bring a full change of clothes, too.
Although today’s wind was only about 5 knots higher than yesterday, the difference between Force 5 and Force 6 conditions is substantial for a little boat like Dory. When I look back on today’s sail and tally up all the things Dory might need just to sail properly in those conditions, I am discouraged. Dory was meant to be a small, simple, inexpensive boat, and I do not want to lose that simplicity. I still want to sail more often than the weather has been allowing us to sail lately, but not at the cost of Dory’s character. Yesterday’s and today’s sails have been very informative, and they clearly indicate that I need to stick to sailing in winds of under 20 knots. Above that, Dory really is not happy; below that, it’s a piece of cake. Mmmm, cake. It looks like I need a piece of cake.
Smooth sailing,
Jim
- 2022-04-24 Solo Daysail Dory Pensacola.jpg (765.29 KiB) Viewed 1752 times
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
- 2022-04-27 Dory Log 6.5-inch.jpg (2.13 MiB) Viewed 1744 times
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
- 2022-05-01 Dory Log 6.5-inch.jpg (3.25 MiB) Viewed 1739 times
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
- 2022-05-02 Dory Log 6.5-inch.jpg (2.36 MiB) Viewed 1735 times
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
- 2022-05-03 Dory Log 6.5-inch.jpg (2.3 MiB) Viewed 1735 times
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
- 2022-05-04 Dory Log 6.5-inch.jpg (1.76 MiB) Viewed 1729 times
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
Looks like a great place for day sailing in a fairly sheltered bay.
We might hit 65 up here in Connecticut today. I hope to be launched and sailing in 12 days from now.
We might hit 65 up here in Connecticut today. I hope to be launched and sailing in 12 days from now.
Ken Easley
Intrepid 9 Meter - Felicity
Southport Harbor, Connecticut
Intrepid 9 Meter - Felicity
Southport Harbor, Connecticut
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
We like Pensacola Bay for day sailing. Apparently the America's Cup team American Magic agrees with us, as they have announced that they will once again use Pensacola for their training site for the next cup.keneasley wrote:Looks like a great place for day sailing in a fairly sheltered bay.
We might hit 65 up here in Connecticut today. I hope to be launched and sailing in 12 days from now.
Sailing season is about over for us here in Florida--it is getting way too hot to be outside. We are looking forward to heading to Maine and starting the summer season sometime in the next month.
Smooth sailing,
Jim
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
- 2022-05-05 Dory Log 6.5-inch.jpg (1.91 MiB) Viewed 1722 times
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
- 2022-05-10 Dory Log 6.5-inch.jpg (2.26 MiB) Viewed 1717 times
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
- 2022-05-14 Dory Log 6.5-inch.jpg (2.94 MiB) Viewed 1711 times
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
- 2022-05-15 Dory Log 6.5-inch.jpg (4.74 MiB) Viewed 1707 times
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
- 2022-05-16 Dory Log 6.5-inch.jpg (1.79 MiB) Viewed 1701 times
-
wikakaru
- Posts: 839
- Joined: Jan 13th, '18, 16:19
- Location: 1980 Typhoon #1697 "Dory"; 1981 CD22 #41 "Arietta"
Re: The Log of Typhoon "Dory"
- 2022-05-19 Dory Log 6.5-inch.jpg (4.37 MiB) Viewed 1695 times