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The advice given on this site is based upon individual or quoted experience, yours may differ.
The Officers, Staff and members of this site only provide information based upon the concept that anyone utilizing this information does so at their own risk and holds harmless all contributors to this site.
Over the years I have touched bottom a few times but this is the first time I have ever really hard grounded a boat. In the winter months I sail the Great Salt Lake which is very large and very shallow (max. depth is about 32 feet and most of the sailing is done in 12 to 22 feet of water). I set out solo on Friday afternoon for the vicinity of Antelope Island, a large 20 mile long piece of desolate, but beautiful, land that now contains more buffalo than antelope. As the sun was setting I dropped anchor in about 10 feet of water and settled in for the night. Even at this shallow depth, the GPS still showed me to be about 1 mile off the western edge, but there was no point in going in any tighter. In the morning the wind was light so I thought I would motor in closer to the island and have a better look. I cautiously moved past 5 feet and then shut things down when I reached 3 feet. Kalya is a 250 wb and I had raised the keel all the way for this sojourn. After enjoying the view and the sounds for a while I stared up the outboard and attempted to retrace my entrance route. The depth meter showed 4 feet and then 5. I gave her a little more throttle and settled back. My next glace at the meter surprised me with only 2 feet which instantly changed to 1.8. Simultaneously I heard the unwelcome grind of the rudder and then the retracted keel touching bottom. The water this time of year is so murky that even in less than 2 feet of water I could not see the bottom, but the sounds from the rudder and keel as the boat rocked gently in the waves told me that I was thankfully on some type of gravel or sand rather than rock. One of the interesting things about solo sailing is that it requires solo problem solving. When an equipment failure or, in this case, a plain old stupid decision, gets you into trouble, there is no one else to ask for an opinion or for help. So there I sat, 13 miles from the marina, not another boat is sight, and solidly grounded. After a change of underwear I tried putting the high-thrust Yamaha 9.9 in forward gear and quickly stepping to the bow to allow my weight to take some of the pressure off the rudder. On Kalya, the rudder draws a few inches more water than the retracted keel. The boat moved a few inches but only to grind even deeper into the sand. Further attempts at reverse full throttle were unsuccessful. The wind was picking up a bit but I still felt safe, although certainly isolated. I thought about blowing some of the water out of the ballast tank but then realized that the compressor was sitting helpfully in my garage. Nice work. I gathered a few tools together and began the process of removing the rudder, which, complicated by Kalya’s wheel steering, required a few additional steps. After about 20 minutes I had it off and in the cockpit. I said a short prayer, put the outboard in reverse, gave her some good throttle and intently watched for any movement. Bingo, she gave a few inches and then a few more. The depth meter was still showing 1.8 feet even after we’d moved a few feet. The awful grinding noise from the bottom told me that we were still moving but just barely. The meter wouldn’t get past 1.8. Is the damn thing working? Still 1.8. Then finally 1.9. Come on baby! 2.0. I kept her moving until the meter showed 2.5 and then I threw her into forward and swung the boat 90 degrees to port by turning the outboard hard. My eyes were glued to the depth meter. Finally 3 feet and then 4. Thank goodness. I didn’t stop until we were at 19 feet and even then I was a little nervous about stopping. It took another 20 minutes to put the rudder back in place and get underway. When all was said and done I had lost an hour or so, a little bottom paint (and a pair of pliers and 2 cotter pins to the bottom) A good lesson learned I hope... and another nice day on the water.
Good job getting it off the bottom. As you said, you are lucky that it wasn't a rock bottom or you could have lost the rudder entirely. On my last boat(a swinger), the first thing to hit was the rudder and this didn't give me a warm and fuzzy. I'm glad I now have a keel that is deeper than my rudder to give me some degree of comfort.
<BLOCKQUOTE id=quote><font size=1 face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica" id=quote>quote:<hr height=1 noshade id=quote> I'm glad I now have a keel that is deeper than my rudder to give me some degree of comfort. <hr height=1 noshade id=quote></BLOCKQUOTE id=quote></font id=quote><font face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica" size=2 id=quote> Me too... Although I saw another C-25 with the fiberglass-encased lead keel that had hit a New England rock--an ugly gash! It looked like there was a couple of inches of glass on the leading edge, a big chuck of which was gone. I guess it must have cushioned the impact somewhat...
Dave Bristle - 1985 C-25 #5032 SR-FK-Dinette-Honda "Passage" in SW CT
At least you're man enough to admit it! There was an article in Sail Magazine not too long ago. The jest of it was there are two kinds of sailors. Those that have run aground, and those that won't admit it. <img src=icon_smile.gif border=0 align=middle>
My buddy Ed and I give an annual award at our sailing club. I make little trophies and Ed and I come up with unusual titles for them. Every year we have the "Sand Bar Bob" award in honnor of one of our members that ran aground a few times during the delta ditch run. Other awards we have given include the "Submarine" award given a few times for the obvious reason. Last year I made a little guillotine for our commodore.<img src=icon_smile_evil.gif border=0 align=middle>
Those who claim never to have run aground are:- 1. Lying 2. Haven't been sailing very long. <img src=icon_smile_big.gif border=0 align=middle> Incidentally, in our Club we have an annual "Broken Antenna Award" given to the sailor/powerboater who has the biggest foul-up in the year. (Originally named when a powerboater backed into his covered slip with his VHF antenna still locked in the "up" position!) Derek
P.S. Judy & I won it the year we sank "Bluewind" - the award read "For the Ultimate Bottom Job" <img src=icon_smile_blush.gif border=0 align=middle> Derek
This reminds me of a family that took their AMF 19 to the North Channel. They threaded their way into a cove (after dark and no depth meter) that had several rocks just below the water's surface. The next morning when he awoke his daughter was <i>standing</i> next to the boat on a rock that was ankle deep.
One time I was going through a narrow channel that had a depth of around 6 to 7 feet which was good enough for my 5' swing keel. As I was going through, a motorboat of considerable size was coming through the channel from the opposite direction. This motorboat kicked up a nice little wake of a few feet. One would think that a two foot wake wouldn't be that big a deal except for the fact that the trough between the crests is shallower than the actual depth of the water. Anyway, my boat went up the wake and when it came down into the trough, the keel slammed straight down into the bottom of the channel. It slammed so hard the whole boat shuddered and I thought that surely the top of my swing keel was now peeking out the cabintop. <img src=icon_smile_shock.gif border=0 align=middle>
Fortunately, no damage was done, but now I'm keenly aware of both depths and boat wakes.
Two summers ago, I thought I'd show off by sailing into little Conover Cove on Wallace Island in B.C. I had slowed to around 3 knots, I think, but hit a rock so hard that the hard dink slammed my transom and the wind vane snapped off the masthead. That's when I go evidence that a swing keel isn't likely to swing up and then break something when falling back down, as some have questioned.
Another incident with the Tartan 30. With my two little girls aboard, under 10 years old, I tried sneaking into an anchorage well after dark with just the radar and depth sounder. I found the sand bar when manuevering quickly to avoid some pilings in the way. We stuck so hard that we couldn't kedge off, nor be pulled off. After an hour or so of the boat heeling more and more on a falling tide on the Columbia River, we left the boat (anchored) and spent the night on a friend's boat about a mile away. I motored down the next morning in the dink to find her floating high and dry on a high tide. The side of the hull still showed a little sand where she spent some time leaning on her side. No damage.....Experience is a good teacher. I leave my keel down nearly all the time now on the C25 and raise it and get off whenever I find the bottom unexpectedly...
Two summers ago, I thought I'd show off by sailing into little Conover Cove on Wallace Island in B.C. I had slowed to around 3 knots, I think, but hit a rock so hard that the hard dink slammed my transom and the wind vane snapped off the masthead. That's when I go evidence that a swing keel isn't likely to swing up and then break something when falling back down, as some have questioned.
Another incident with the Tartan 30. With my two little girls aboard, under 10 years old, I tried sneaking into an anchorage well after dark with just the radar and depth sounder. I found the sand bar when manuevering quickly to avoid some pilings in the way. We stuck so hard that we couldn't kedge off, nor be pulled off. After an hour or so of the boat heeling more and more on a falling tide on the Columbia River, we left the boat (anchored) and spent the night on a friend's boat about a mile away. I motored down the next morning in the dink to find her floating high and dry on a high tide. The side of the hull still showed a little sand where she spent some time leaning on her side. No damage.....Experience is a good teacher. I leave my keel down nearly all the time now on the C25 and raise it and get off whenever I find the bottom unexpectedly...
Wallace Island is a neat place to stop at, a B.C Provincial Park. We stopped there last July on our C-22 Fleet 4 cruise-6 boats in all-and spent most of an afternoon walking around. Conover Cove is quite small, as you said, but we got in and out okay, no one got stuck or hit anything. The is a large shoal just at the north side of the entrance, so you have to keep to the southwest for quite a distance when entering and exiting. Did you leave a driftwood piece with your boat and crew names painted on it at the old cabin?
Larry Charlot Catalina 25 #1205 "Quiet Time" Sacramento, CA
<font color=blue>Two summers ago, I thought I'd show off by sailing into little Conover Cove on Wallace Island in B.C. I had slowed to around 3 knots, I think, but hit a rock so hard that the hard dink slammed my transom and the wind vane snapped off the masthead. That's when I go evidence that a swing keel isn't likely to swing up and then break something when falling back down, as some have questioned. - Gary B.</font id=blue>
Thanks for passing that on Gary ... I'm going to rest a little easier now. I had gotten the impression that a hard grounding could have almost the same effect as a broken keel cable. I suppose it might damage the keel trunk in some instances, but those are rare ... I hope ... <img src=icon_smile_8ball.gif border=0 align=middle>
Notice: The advice given on this site is based upon individual or quoted experience, yours may differ. The Officers, Staff and members of this site only provide information based upon the concept that anyone utilizing this information does so at their own risk and holds harmless all contributors to this site.