When I look back over better than five decades of offshore sailing (most of it as skipper) and many voyages to hazardous places, I often cringe at all the mistakes I made.
On pretty much every voyage (perhaps save one) I made at least one mistake that could have resulted in losing the boat or even killing me and the crew.
And then there are all those seemingly trivial mistakes, too many to count. Each was trivial in and of itself, but I can see any number of ways that a sequence of these small mistakes could have added up to disaster.
So am I some dangerous yahoo? Nope. You just have to read this site for a while to know that.
And my actual track record (so far) is pretty good. No boat losses, never been towed1, never been rescued, never hurt a crew member or myself…OK, there was the time I stood up fast under the boom, but that was clumsiness2, not poor seamanship.
So how can a guy who has made so many mistakes end up with a good safety record…touch wood? Five reasons:
I have:
- Been relatively lucky. I can think of at least a couple of occasions where it was pure blind luck that saved me from a horrible situation.
- Been diligent about maintaining my boats.
- Always kept one of John Vigor’s black boxes aboard and tried hard to always keep it full of points.
- Tried hard to recognize my mistakes and learn from them.
- Learned over the years (often the hard way) to balance desired features against forgiveness when buying boats and gear, and to be ultra-aware when I have put the former before the latter.
It’s the last one I’m going to explore in this article.
We Will Make Mistakes
But first, are mistakes inevitable? To me at least, it’s an undeniable truth that voyaging under sail is a mistake-prone activity. There are just too many variables of weather and situations for any of us to manage for long without making at least some mistakes.
And this is particularly true when sailing shorthanded because of the number and diversity of the tasks each crew will have to execute in the run of a voyage, and further because from time to time we will get tired.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating for just resigning ourselves to mistake-cursed cruises. There’s a lot we can do to reduce the number of mistakes we make: practice, checklists, systematically and gradually learning our trade, and not taking on cruises that are beyond our experience level, to name just a few. However, for this article let’s assume we did all that stuff.
Forgiveness Reduction Examples
So now we know that mistakes are going to happen, let’s have a look at some examples of boat and gear buying decisions that will increase or decrease the chances our boat will forgive us when we make a mistake:
I was pleased to see, at the last Annapolis sailboat show, that at least a few manufacturers have clued in to this “forgiving & maintainable” philosophy. A number of boats marketed as long-range cruisers did indeed have slab reefing with a slippery track, keel bolts accessible for inspection, good ways to rig preventers, anything that could jam or break being designed so you have an alternate way of getting it under control, and engine hatches shaped so you could easily swing a large tool on all sides of the engine when opened up.
It’s far from universal, though. There are a *lot* of boats that are built to look good at the dock, and be fun to sail for an afternoon, with little or no thought given to taking care of them or to how you’ll handle them in a severe weather situation.
And, even though I’m (at least nominally) qualified to design these things from scratch, I’d have had a difficult time noticing the difference were it not for everything I’ve learned here at AAC. It sure isn’t discussed in the standard engineering textbooks.
My own boat scores fairly well on most of John’s points. Even so, we’re constantly reminding people to stay clear of the traveller & mainsheet, and roller reefing the genoa in a good breeze is far from ideal.
Things to keep in mind for future designs….
I would add uncluttered and neatly stowed below. Able to performance the basic ADL’s (activities of daily living) safely and conveniently.
One of your best articles here John. They should print it in Cruising World magazine.
For us this article will be a good tool for regular audits of our boat’s configuration and our handling technique to be sure we are maintaining a safe and sensible approach for our sailing time on the boat.
Thanks for putting the time into this.
John, sorry for the off topic but since you mentioned the Dragonfly 32,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0gRgbqeJcM&t=101s
No worries if you remove this comment but thought you might like the link. I think they hit a home run with this boat for the audience it is intended for. I retire in 3 years, we’re saving money, and maybe (just maybe) if one comes up on the used market in 3-5 years!
One last thought that might add to this article and it’s relevant to performance cruisers (whether multihull or monohull) that can easily sail at double digit speeds. The Dragonfly 32 tri like my wife and I own has been clocked at over 20 knots of boatspeed and in our ownership we have maxed her at 16 knots (and admittedly with just the two of us, it felt “edgy”). Seamanship includes slowing down a boat to a safe and manageable speed for the crew on board even in relatively benign conditions (say under 20 knots of wind). Last year during a crossing of the upper Gulf of Mexico with just the two of us, I was on solo night watch broad reaching in 8-10 knots of wind with full main and jib at 7-8 knots boatspeed. The breeze slowly built and held at 18-21 knots resulting in the boatspeed increasing to 12-13 knots. I ended up putting the 2nd reef in the mainsail dropping the speed back down to 7.5-9 knots. It felt much safer and per John’s points, the boat became a lot more forgiving for me as the inevitable fatigue during or towards the end of a solo night watch occurs.