4.14.18 @ 1000 Local, 1700 Zulu Day #22
Latitude: 04°11’S Longitude: 134°59’W Covered Distance Last 24 Hours: 118 NM Distance to the Marquesas: 402 NM Distance from Punta de Mita, Mexico: 2634 NM Weather: scattered clouds 60% Winds: ES-EN 17 knots Sea State: ESE 2.0 meters Barometer: 1013 Crew’s Mood: I think I’d go with Excellent!
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…..
So when you’ve gone to bed to get a nap or make it an all nighter of sleep, that is what you kind of expect. Day 20, started out like that. I had finished the morning watch and at about noon I decided that a little nap, which included sleeping, was in order. Down to the bunk I went for a couple of hours. I was planning to get up at about 1430 hours local time. And just about the time my internal clock said it was time to get up, I noticed Dazzler was feeling really smooth in the ocean. Too smooth.
Just about the time I look aft at the gauge on the aft bulkhead to check out the boat speed. I simultaneously see 1.2 knots on the instrument along with hearing, “DAN, GET UP HERE QUICK, WE’VE LOST THE JIB.” Not, the Jib fell down or maybe a tsunami is coming or something to equal the catastrophic volume of the yell of fear blasted down the companionway in my direction. Without skipping a beat, I was quickly on deck, in my underwear and observed the Jib sail was not where I had left it before my nap. While moving forward toward the bow, I could see the tack of the sail attached to the roller furling drum. Yes, the Jib was completely in the water along Dazzler’s starboard side. Quickly Jilly and I pulled the soggy sail up onto the starboard deck where I started to assess what had happened to cause this. The head of the Jib was in good shape so I looked aloft and saw the upper roller bearing sitting up there taking in the splendor of the ocean view. It’s a little to early to start assessing blame, so I told Jilly I have to go aloft to retrieve the upper roller furling bearing and halyard. A halyard is a line that pulls the head of he sail up the mast and holds it up while the sail is in use or rolled on the furling tube.
The wind is in the high teens and the sea state is somewhere between not good and ah shit for a mast climbing. But, up I must go. We first turned Dazzler downwind to stop the roll and ease the apparent wind speed. My first thought was to get my helmet and climbing gear to ascend by free climbing the mast steps with a safety line and a prussic knot as a break. I made it to the spreaders and something didn’t feel right. So down I went to get my bosun climbing chair. This was a good call because it gave me a better platform for using my legs more than my arms for the climb. I had an additional line attached that I hauled up with me to use to pull down the furler bearing assembly. This halyard is a Dacron double braid style halyard. When a double braid line is spliced the diameter of the line at the spliced end is wider than the rest of the line. Regular double braid also has some stretching characteristics that will reveal themselves shortly. At the top of the mast are four sheaves on the forward side and two on the aft side. These sheaves allow the line to smoothly pass over them and provide a nice little channel for the line to ride in and thus not inducing chafe if properly sized. Okay! When whatever happened at the top of the mast allowed the Jib under load to suddenly slide down the roller furling track tube and into the water. The energy loaded on the tight halyard let go like a sling shot and thus jamming the wider spliced end into the sheave at the top of the mast. There I said it.
The last time this had happened to me, I had to use all two hundred something pounds of my weight to hang on it to pull it out of the sheave. This time I was smarter. I pulled up a piece of line that I could turn to a winch to crank it free. A short climb down the mast, swinging violently from side to side, I held on just like Grape Ape had thought me. You are probably wondering why isn’t Grape Ape up here doing all this. Well when it all happened he ran for his room in the lazarette. Because he regularly climbs the mast while we’re underway, he probably thought he had done something wrong and was ascared.
Back on deck I now started to work my plan to use not just any winch, but the Binford 5000. Oh oh oh oh oh! That’s right folks the Binford 5000 will pull your anchor up along with part of the bottom of the sea bed. It seemed the logical choice being so strong and close to the bow. But wait wouldn’t you know that the line I was going to use was about six feet too short. No problem, we have lots of line on this sailing ship. A couple of bowline knots to secure the two pieces of line together and we were back in business. The anchor windlass, AKA Binford 5000, was ready for deployment. Pop! The halyard was free and sliding down the furling tube. Although something wasn’t right. The furling upper bearing assembly is supposed to have a straight piece of stainless ¼” bar attached to it. It was when I attached the line to it at the top. Well now it is facing the east all prostrate bent over as if praying to Mohamed. As I looked at it, I thought that’s not good. My first thought was that I might have a spare. The operative word is thought. Well, I couldn’t find it which means I have one and it is in a safe place onboard Dazzler. Or, had one at one time and have since removed it from Dazzler. No matter that issue. I needed to use what I had and this bar was not going to see straight ever again. There was hope, I was able to cut off the badly bent lower section just below another threaded hole. I then took to it like a blacksmith trying to straighten a horse shoe. A few hardy blows later it looked straight enough to work for now. I slathered it up with tefgel and secured it back on the upper furling bearing. Tada! Tefgel is a chemical that insulates dissimilar metals such as stainless steel and aluminum and assists in minimizing a thing called electrolysis. A common product found on boats.
Next was to examine the empty hole where the D shackle used to be. It was obvious that the shackle had not broken as there where no pieces left attached. The only thing I can guess is that back in La Cruz we had the Jib and staysail off of Dazzler to have a once over by Mike at PV Sailing for any stitching or other needed repairs. We also had taken our Yankee headsail in to have an ultraviolet cover added to it.
After getting the sails back we put up the Jib and the staysail. The D shackles used on the furling system had indexed pins. This is a pin that passes through on one side of the shackle and threads into the other side of the shackle. When it gets close to bottoming out, there are small detentes that the head of the pin start to click against thus preventing the pin from backing out. In theory.
Once we got the yankee sail back from Mike, we needed to drop the Jib and hoist up the yankee to make sure the UV cover fit right. Well it did fit as designed. So off with the yankee and back on with the Jib. I don’t know for sure, but when I was reattaching the Jib, I thought that I should mouse the shackle pin. Well I didn’t. For you cliff dwellers out there, it doesn’t mean a trip to Pet’s Mart to get a mouse. No, mousing would be using a piece of twine or in my case a small piece of stainless steel wire in a figure eight between the shackle and the eye of the pin to prevent it from working lose and or out altogether. It is my opinion that the shackle pin worked lose and then finally let go resulting in the Jib getting its Saturday night bath a little early.
As every good cruising sailor knows that a small chandlery on board is a must. Drawer after drawer of spare parts. Jilly said once, we should inventory that drawer. I told her we don’t have enough time. There are so many different screws and pieces specific to one part onboard. As I would fix things over the last 15 years, I would always get two parts or specialty fasteners. An extra just in case the plop is not followed by the fizz fizz. You have another one to use without having to stop and go back to the marine store. But more importantly, if that piece broke once it will likely break again when I’m not near any chandlery. So spares are a good thing. A friend of mine says travel light you can always buy clothes when you get there.
Back on target now. So I went to the rigging hardware drawer and found a couple of suitable D shackles. The one I wanted to use had a bit thicker pin than what used to be on the housing of the upper furling bearing. No trouble for the Super Drill Out 2000. A quick run through and the pin now fit like a glove.
Time to get this Rodeo over and award the buckles. Putting it all back together and hoisting the Jib. Dazzler’s main Jib isn’t a little sail. It is a 140% Jib and it’s foot is about 24 feet long, the mast above the deck is 48 feet tall. So as you can see there is a lot of sail area to wrestle with. We positioned Dazzler a bit more downwind to blanket the wind from the Jib so it wouldn’t be too wild of a ride for Jilly. I decided to be the muscle to hoist the sail, but Jilly had to be at the forward end of the bowsprit to guide the number six luff into the track of the roller furling tube. Away we go, inch by inch the Jib crept up the tube of the roller furling unit. Jilly on the bowsprit with her toenails dug into the wooded planks gripping the luff edge of the sail and guiding it into the track. She was something to be proud of. Inch by inch the Jib glided up the track until it was fully hoisted. We trimmed her up, put the tools away and then started gathering electronic checking information for the afternoon radio Net to start in about 30 minutes.
From zero, shaking the sleepy out of my eyes to climbing the mast to done. Two and a half hours. Okay, I’m done now. No more surprises like that please.
On a side note, having a broad collection of spares, parts and tools assisted in the proper fix to this preventable issue. My fault, I should have listened to that little voice that said mouse the shackle in the first place. Moral, see Dan. Dan didn’t mouse the shackle, don’t be like Dan. Mouse your shackle! Especially if it’s at or near the mast head.
As Felix the cat would say, “Right E O.” Safe travels to all out there.
Captain Dan
PS Grape Ape was happy that it wasn’t his fault. Okay Grape Ape, you can stop jumping up and down now.

4.15.18 @ 1700 Zulu Day #21 Latitude: 02°30 S Longitude: 133°32 W Covered Distance Last 24 Hours: 124 NM Distance to the Marquesas: 535 NM Distance from Punta de Mita, Mexico: 2511 NM Weather: 40% Clouds Winds: E 18 Knots Sea State: SE 2.5 Meters Sea Temp: 82° Air Temp: 84° Course: 216 T Speed: 5.5 Knots Barometer: 1011 Crew’s Mood: Tired and sore!

So it’s another picture perfect day out here on the Pacific. I know, I know, you’re tired of hearing that but it’s true. Dan’s down below napping and I’m enjoying a bit of me time in the cockpit as we cruise along at 6 knots in 14 knot winds. The sun is warming my skin. I’m checking our emails and life is truly grand. Yeah, I get it, how cool is it that I can check emails thousands of miles from shore?

“What the hell over? Why are we stopping?” I look up from my iPad to see what is happening. The swells are still swelling and the wind is still blowing but it’s obvious something is a miss. I hop behind the wheel and start checking the instruments. Everything is just as it was except we went from 6 knots down to 1.8! A very strange feeling comes washing over me. “This isn’t good. Something is very, very wrong.” I change course a couple of degrees but our speed stays steady. Then I start looking on deck. “Oh my God! Where is it? DAAAAN! GET UP HERE NOW! WE’VE LOST THE JIB!” I yell below. And when I say I yelled, trust me this southern belle has a set of pipes. They probably heard me in Hiva Oa 600+ miles away.

I can’t see the jib from the port side of the cockpit so I’m frantically scanning the water. “Where is the damn thing?” While I’m waiting for Dan, all three seconds, I walk up on deck and there’s the jib hanging by the tack shackle over the starboard side of Dazzler. It’s half on the boat and half in the water. Dan comes flying out of the cabin like Superman in his underwear with his Captain Save-A-Hoe cape flying off his back. “When did we put a telephone booth down below anyway?”

He rushes on deck to assess the situation. We start pulling the sail up on deck. If you’ve never dealt with the size sails used on a boat like Dazzler you probably don’t understand or appreciate how difficult it is to bring this beast back on board. It’s sort of like wrestling an anaconda snake out of quicksand. The sea keeps trying to suck it in as this beast is wrapping itself around us while we are rocking back and forth in ten foot swells trying to pull it on board! It takes some wrangling to be sure but we finally get it on the deck.

Dan surveys the situation for a few minutes as I catch my breath. He determines that the head shackle has failed. “Okay, what now?” I question even though I’m almost certain I already know the answer. “Well, I’m going to have to go up the mast.” He replies. There it is, the answer I knew was coming but that I was dreading like the arrival of that freak relative on Thanksgiving Day.

It’s not that I worry so much about him going up the mast, you know, in port where it’s calm and the boat isn’t healing 15°-30° back and forth in ten foot swells. No, in port it’s fine…out here…not so much. Our mast is 48’ off the deck. That’s a long way to fall, even if you hit the water. Listen, I jumped off a 26’ waterfall on a canyoning adventure in Wales and broke three ribs. Water from that height is like concrete. From 49’ I can only imagine. No, wait, I don’t want to imagine. But, I know Dan and I trust his abilities greatly so I’m going to have to just watch and be calm.

At first he decides to free climb which means he won’t be using his climbing harness. He’ll just climb the mast ladder and clip in each time he moves. He will always have one clip on the ladder plus the safety break. He starts up and I start praying. Yep, talked to God, Neptune, Mother Nature and every guardian angel I have in Heaven.

He gets about halfway up, just to the spreaders and he starts coming back down. “What’s wrong.” I ask. “It just doesn’t feel right.” He replies. “I want my climbing harness.” One of the things I love about this man is that he doesn’t ever take unnecessary chances so as much as I hate the idea of him climbing this mast I know he’s using every possible precaution.

He goes below and gets the harness and all the gear that goes with it and within minutes he’s on his way back up. I continue my prayers as I look off the port side and see rain headed our direction. “Really? Now? We don’t have enough to deal with?” I question the gods. It’s at this very moment I start holding my breath as I watch him slowly ascend the mast.

He’s given me a job to pay out line that is attached to him. It’s the line he will attach to the upper bearing for the roller fairing for the jib in order to bring it down so we can attach the new snap shackle and ultimately the head of the jib. I really don’t think he needed me to hold this line while he climbed up rather I think it was his way of keeping me focused on something. You know to keep me from worrying. So I believe a person really never knows how long they can hold their breath until you just do it. I’m pretty certain I held mine the entire twenty minutes Dan was on the mast. I’m thinking there’s a place in a record book for me.

Watching Dan come off the mast was the most awesome thing I’ve seen in a long time. As his feet hit the deck I started to thank all those I prayed to minutes before. Of course, this was just a small part of the ordeal. There was still work to be done.

I won’t go into all the gory details about what was done because honestly I’m sure I’d get the names of the parts wrong. I’ll let Dan tell you all about it tomorrow. I will, however, tell you about how I learned to truly appreciate the strength and power of wind in a sail.

Once Dan had all the doodads and doohickeys repaired and back together we had to get the jib back on the furling tube. This is a tough enough task sitting in a marina where it’s dead calm and the boat isn’t moving. Out here, it’s just plain brutal! My job was to feed the sail into the track while Dan hoisted it.

Well, let’s just talk for a moment about the working conditions here. In order to even get to my station I have to jack line in and crawl over a mountain of sail onto the bow pulpit while the boat is rolling back and forth and bouncing up and down in the huge swells. And quite frankly, that was the easy part. Feeding this mammoth sail into the track while it’s being hoisted into 15 knot winds is a whole other story.

The first ten feet or so was easy. After that it became a true test of strength. With one hand wrapped around the tube I’m guiding the sail into the track but as the wind starts to fill the sail it wants to lift up so with my other hand I’m having to pull down on the bottom to keep it and me from flying off the bow. Seriously, this thing had some awesome power going. It was like trying to hold onto the wing of a jet as it’s taking off. The higher the sail goes the more force I’m required to use to keep it where it needs to be so I can feed it into the track. All the while I’m using every muscle in my body to balance and keep my feet on the 18” wide deck of the pulpit.

It only takes us about ten minutes to get the job done but it felt like an eternity. Once she was back up, however, we were off to the races again and sailing along at 5.5 to 6 knots. I ever so carefully descend from the pulpit back to the deck where I clip into the line over the dinghy and lay across it thanking God I didn’t fall off the pulpit where I would have been dangling by my tether to the jack line. My arms are shaking and my hands are curled up like claws. Even now, close to seven hours later my hands and arms ache from the task.

It took us about two and a half hours from the moment I yelled for Dan to the time she was back up and running. It was a pretty stressful afternoon and one that taxed every bit of mental and physical strength in my body. Once the job was done, we showered and I made a quick, light dinner. After that I poured a small glass of rum and sat at the table licking my wounds. No, we don’t typically drink under way but I was so amped up that I knew I needed something to relax me so I could get some sleep before my watch.

Thankfully tonight’s watch is a pretty calm one. Our sails are up and we’re cruising along at about 5.5 knots. The sky is clear with no rain in sight and I’m sitting here talking to you fine folks. Yep…just another day on Dazzler.

Until next time…
Jilly