I have now been doing and using bury splices in 12-strand Dyneema long enough to have come to the conclusion that these splices should aways be lock stitched, regardless of whether or not they were made with a Brummel lock.
Without lock stitching it’s just too easy for something to snag the splice near the root of the loop and pull the tail all or partially out.
Lin very kindly sent us a pre-release copy of her new book Passages: Cape Horn and Beyond1 (available October 15th). I have long been a fan of Lin’s writing but this is my favourite yet, I inhaled it.
And that’s coming from a guy who does not read (or watch) a single cruising account from one year to the next, since I find that most are of the “we went here and then we went there” variety, which I find a snore. Lin avoids that problem, particularly in her later writing—Bull Canyonis another of my favourites, and Taleisin’s Tales is on my to-read list.
In this book, Lin starts with a chapter about her new cruising life—yup, she is back out there—and then turns the clock back to an epic east to west (the hard way) engineless rounding of Cape Horn, the crowning achievement of her voyages with Larry, and one of the great small-boat seamanship achievements of our time.
There is much more on the joys of voyaging, with many lessons to learn, but for me the most important part of the book, and the most affecting, was her tender account of Larry’s slow loss of his prodigious strength, health, and eventual descent into dementia.
Yes, I know, that sounds pretty depressing and might put you off. Don’t let it.
Each of us who voyage on the sea, and through life, will eventually have to deal with not being able to do the things we once did—at age 73, I should know—and Lin’s story of how she and Larry coped with that by transitioning gracefully, and even joyfully, into life-after-cruising is a part of the book we can all learn from.
She is also frank and constructive about the difficulties that arise when one partner wants to stop cruising and the other is desperate to carry on. A situation that many, perhaps most voyaging couples will face sooner or later, a time when Lin’s insights will help too.
So stop watching those YouTube videos about lithium batteries, the latest multi-million dollar unattainable boat, or beefcake and bimbos cavorting, and dive into Passages: Cape Horn and Beyond.
Not only will you be entertained and enchanted by two love stories and some epic cruises, you will also learn things that will help you lead a happier cruising, and after cruising, life…all that and invaluable cruising and seamanship lessons too.
Although I linked to Amazon to make it easy for you to buy Lin’s books, we don’t get a dime if you do. I wrote this review purely because I really liked the book. We don’t use affiliate links since we consider them a source of bias. ↩︎
It amazes me how many of these tubular radar reflectors I still see on boats years after two credible studies have shown them to be pretty much useless:
Great news, an experienced boatyard with great technical skills has committed to building the Adventure 40 and is already working with Maxime on planning the next steps, including reviewing the design with a view to both making improvements and optimizing for build efficiency.
The builder agreed to have their identity revealed now, a further indicator of how serious they are. However, Maxime and I have decided that it’s better to wait a month or two so we can share at least the outline of a production plan at the same time—should be before Christmas.
Of course there is no guarantee that something won’t go wrong in the coming months resulting in the builder withdrawing, but Maxime is reasonably confident that won’t happen, particularly since the match between the builder’s business plans and the A40 project is a good one.
It’s been a long voyage, but I think we are finally seeing a clear course to real boats, albeit still on the horizon.
We are all aware that in yacht use the Achilles Heel of lead-acid batteries is that only about 50%1 of the rated capacity can be used on a daily basis.
But now Trojan, a well-respected brand, have released their AES AGM Battery with a claimed life of 1200 cycles to 100% discharge. These batteries are also purported to be able to withstand being left in a partial state of charge for long periods, repeatedly.
Several members have expressed concern that we have not published anything about the Adventure 40 since April.
But this is a case where no news is not bad news, it’s simply no news.
While it’s true that, for a variety of reasons, all outside Maxime’s control, not a lot has happened over the summer, he is still diligently working to secure a builder, has an interested prospect, and is hoping to have good news in September.
Well, that was quick. It was just last week that I shared that the WS500 Pro was on time, and today what should turn up here at AAC World Headquarters, but a fully functioning production unit.
Al put on his red suit and slipped down the chimney to put it under the tree…wait, that’s not for four months, so I guess it was Fedex.
Of course, being a cool calm guy who never gets excited by new technology, I put it aside and might get around to installing it six months from now…not.
The reality was that I had it out of the box and my iPhone connected to it within 10 minutes1—yes, it’s that easy.
And that highlights one of the features I like the best on the original WS500 and the Pro: both can be powered up on the bench so we can program them before installing on the boat.
As you can see, the Pro is being powered by a standard USB cable using an old Kindle wall wart, and my phone is connected to it via Bluetooth and showing the regulator monitoring screen.
See this Tip for why that’s a way cooler feature than you might think, as well as more information about the Pro.
I also verified that I can fully program the regulator from my iPhone over BlueTooth2.
By the way: the Pro automatically detects that it’s being powered by USB, instead of the harness, and so does not throw an error because there is no battery or alternator connected, like the WS500 does3.
Sane Password Implementation
Before I close, one other cool feature of the Pro I have not mentioned before:
The first time we connect a phone to a new Pro it insists we change its password before it will let us change any parameters.
Smart…do you want your brother-in-law playing with the configuration? Or maybe some super-smart but vindictive 14-year-old on the boat next door?
But wait, what happens if you forget the password, or maybe buy a boat with a Pro already installed? Not a worry, if we connect directly to the unit using the USB cable we can reset the password4.
Half of that was looking for a USB cable and wall wart. ↩︎
At the time of writing, this requires a Beta test version of the app which is only available by invitation; however, Al tells me that the final app will be available to all within a week…damn, I kinda liked feeling special. ↩︎
Said error didn’t have any negative effect, but I guess it alarmed (bad pun alert) people. ↩︎
I think we would notice if said vindictive 14-year-old came aboard our boat and disappeared into the engine space carrying a USB cable and an Android phone or computer. ↩︎
That said, I always worry that products announced before they are ready to ship will be late, often horribly.
Anyway, the good news is that Al Thomason, designer of the WS500 and Pro, tells me that the new unit is on time:
Early access production units ship next week.
General availability is scheduled for late September, as promised.
AAC will be receiving an early access evaluation unit soon—thanks, Al.
And further good news, I just received a notification that the Wakespeed app updated for Bluetooth is ready for early access testing on Android and iPhone (I’m on the Beta test list).
And if you just can’t wait to play with a WS500 Pro, Al himself will be at the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival with a bunch of fully powered-up units during the first week of September.
I’m a capitalist. But I also strongly believe that capitalism should be played with rules and a referee. After all, as Scott Galloway is wont to say, it’s a full-body contact sport and would we let people play rugby or American football without a ref on the field? Might not end well.
But that’s exactly what we are doing these days with capitalism. And worse, when governments fail to pass and enforce sensible legislation and regulations to prevent monopolies and encourage competition, it’s not just the players that tend to get hurt but also us customers.
I could rant on for thousands of words about the folly of letting Google own YouTube, Facebook buy Instagram, or Canada’s charter banks keep prices high and service for shit, but the same terrible trend is coming for the marine business, so let’s focus on that.
As I have written before, (needs updating) most shore power chargers are far less smart than they claim to be.
The problem is that unless chargers are connected to and compatible with monitoring systems like Victron Cerbo with Distributed Voltage and Current Control (DVCC) enabled, or Victron BMV with VE Smart Networking, they have no way to know when a lead-acid (or lithium) battery is fully charged, which requires measuring the charge current into the battery, exclusive of loads, (amps not volts), using a shunt1.
To get around this most shore power charger default programs tend to drop out of acceptance (typically 14.4 volts2) way before a lead-acid battery is properly charged and that can lead to sulphating and reduced life.
So what’s the answer? Well that depends on how we use our boat and the charger, but here are a couple of examples:
While I firmly believe that navigating on a phone is a very bad idea, and I’m no fan of installing navigation devices of any type on the steering pedestal (distraction), I have run into a situation where having my iPhone close to hand while steering is desirable:
And it would also be good to have a quick way to mount my phone to the dodger or a stanchion when shooting a photo or video.
So I set out to buy an iPhone mount that would clamp to 1″ tube, thinking it would be easy to find a good solution. Not a bit of it.
First I looked at Scanstrut’srail mount, which we use for an iPad under the dodger, but by the time I put all the required bits together, the result was way bigger and more clunky than I wanted, and a hell of a price too.
Then I looked at a bunch of other options, but all had drawbacks.
A couple of weeks back I wrote about how jib in-haulers have pretty much removed the need to carry overlapping genoas on a J/109, like our Morgan’s Cloud.
Several members expressed interest in learning more, so here are a few photos and some notes on how I set up our system.
Why In-Haul?
But before you read on, if you have not read that article, or at least the part on in-haulers, please do so now as I won’t be duplicating the reasons for in-hauling that I shared there.
Not For Everyone
Before we go any further be aware that in-haulers are generally only useful on boats with non-overlapping jibs (or staysails on cutters) that sheet inside the shrouds since the sheeting angles for overlapping jibs are usually constrained by the spreader length.
And even if an in-hauler was desirable for a genoa, say in cases where there are no tracks and the genoa is sheeted to the rail, they would probably not be practical because of the trip hazard.
For Sail-Trim Geeks
The other thing to be aware of with in-haulers, is that to get the best out of them we have to trim the jib by eye, since the effects of adjusting them are pretty much infinite when used in conjunction with halyard tension, sheet car position, and sheet tension, so marks to achieve repeatable trim do not work well.
So for those who don’t get pleasure from constantly fiddling with sail trim (no shame in that), a numbered track together with sheet cars that can be easily adjusted fore and aft under load, with a multi-part tackle, may be a better bet.
The Details
With that disclaimer out of the way, here are a few tips for fitting in-haulers.
As most of our regular readers know, we at AAC are not fans of twin rudders for a whole bunch of reasons, including complexity, vulnerability to damage and because they can’t be used in conjunction with prop wash to manoeuvre a boat, thereby making a bow thruster pretty much required for safe docking.
But now another dangerous down side of twin rudders has been highlighted by a tragic fatality when a crew member fell overboard and was most likely immediately hit by one of the twin rudders, I’m guessing the windward one, which on the boat in question would have been positioned to be the scythe of the grim reaper when the boat was well heeled.
And this may not be the first time a twin rudder has killed. A few years ago I was talking to a very experienced sailing pro who had skippered one of the Clipper boats in the round-the-world race, and he was convinced that one of the fatalities during another running of that race was the result of a rudder strike during the recovery attempt after a crew member fell overboard.
Do we know for sure that twin rudders were the implement of death in these cases? No. But one look at the boats in question makes it seem possible, or even likely.
So putting aside my opinion against twin-rudder boats, what’s the takeaway?
Said system should use inboard jacklines and shorter tethers to make as sure as possible that a crew can’t be dragged, since that might result in being repeatedly smashed into the windward rudder.
The boats COB recovery procedures should take into account the dangers of a rudder strike.
I’m thinking that the plan should be to stop the boat well clear of the COB and then use a heaving line to make the connection and haul them in to a safe position.
The other, and perhaps even better alternative is the LifeSling pickup.
On no account should we try to come alongside the person in the water as often advocated for.
Some of the above probably applies to boats like those from Boréal that have twin dagger boards aft, although the good thing about that configuration is that it’s typically only the leeward board that’s down when heeled sailing to windward, and the boards could be retracted before a COB recovery attempt.
And if we are considering buying a twin-rudder boat, this is another important issue to think about before pulling the trigger.
Our Yanmar, like most marine diesels, has a coolant overflow tank (left top).
When checking the fluids, as I do regularly, it’s tempting to just glance at the tank and assume that if we see coolant above the “LOW” line all is well.
But that’s not necessarily so:
A friend of mine was in the habit of doing just that but even so a leak had developed in the coolant system that, over time, allowed over half the coolant in the engine to escape, which resulted in overheating.
And, worse still, by the time the alarm went off the damage was catastrophic—I think because coolant was below the overheat temperature sensor—to the point that the engine needed a rebuild and was never the same again.
But even after the disaster the overflow tank was still half full. Why?
While we don’t plan to go far offshore in our J/109, we did buy a liferaft as our emergency exit if we are suddenly faced with a fire or a leak that we are not able to stop.
We are often not carrying a dinghy, and even when we are it’s stowed deflated below, so both scenarios could have a nasty ending, even when day sailing and/or spending a night or two on the boat—would be a silly way to exit this world after surviving all those years of offshore voyaging, much of it to hazardous places.
But that left the problem of where to store the raft.
The obvious place is in the cockpit locker, where it’s out of the way, close to the pitch axis, and relatively easy to access, but, as I have written about in depth, the big problem with that solution is that it’s right next to the engine space and the diesel heater, the two most likely sources of a fire.
So that left the lazaret, where the liferaft’s weight would have a huge negative effect on pitching moment and further exacerbate the J/109’s tendency to drag her stern a bit when in cruising trim. Literally a bummer!
Modern smart autopilots rely on an accurate true wind calculation to steer well with the wind aft of the beam, particularly when a spinnaker, A-Sail or code is set.
And assuming we have the apparent wind direction wand accurately adjusted for angle on each tack, another important input to true wind direction is boat speed, which pretty much always needs to be calibrated.
You mention the International Certificate of Competence and the Yacht Master Offshore course. I’m at the beginning of my journey and started with an ASA course. Are the Yacht Master courses going to be the best overall to begin working towards?
I was out sailing singlehanded a couple of days ago. When I got back into our cove I, as usual when I’m planning to return to our wharf, dropped and furled the mainsail after starting the engine.
But then it struck me that it might be fun to see if I could get alongside without using the engine, so I shut it down.
The wind was blowing into the inlet where our wharf is so it would have been pretty easy to just dock bow downwind…or maybe not…read on.
But being a bit of a wisenheimer, I thought, nah, that would mean then turning the boat around into her normal bow-out position.
I had about 15 knots of wind from pretty much aft, although gusty, and that quickly brought the boat up to 2.5 knots driven by just the windage of the spar, furled sails, and dodger. Faster than I expected.
On the way down the inlet I made a couple of 180° turns upwind and learned she would come into the eye of the wind and carry her way for about a boat length—always worth testing these things before we have hard stuff in the way.
On my first pass I turned too late and ran out of way before getting near enough to the wharf to get on it safely—only idiots jump.
So I had to start the engine and back off. But I was real close to success, so I motored upwind a few hundred yards and set up to try again.
Second time I nailed it.
Here’s what I learned:
Yes, the J/109 is agile and slippery, but any reasonably good sailboat can get up enough speed downwind under bare poles to steer well and turn into the wind to stop.
If the boat won’t get enough speed under bare poles, just unroll a bit of jib.
But roll it up before making the turn; if we leave it out the boat will accelerate in the turn and, worse still, the bow might blow off.
When docking upwind with no power step off with the magic spring and bow line first.
The magic spring can be used to slow the boat and then run forward to stop her drifting aft.
(I used a line on the dock for the slow down, which made it easier single handed.)
Then use the bow line to stop the bow from swinging off the wharf.
If docking downwind, use the magic spring and stern line but be careful as:
Two knots is way too fast to get on the wharf safely.
Bleeding off that much momentum with a line round a cleat could get us hurt—I wouldn’t try that, even with a light boat like the J/109.
The biggest danger is being too slow, or leaving the turn until too late, so the bow may get blown off to leeward and hit the dock.
If we think we are slow, better to make the abort call early and turn the bow away from the wharf before we lose all steerage.
Also, on balance, better to be too fast and have momentum to abort, rather than too slow.
While practising it makes sense to have the engine running in neutral, or at least warmed up. This saved me on the first approach.
I have a pile of experience with this boat and handling boats without engines from my one-design sailing days but even so I screwed up the first one.
With two people this would be verging on easy, even in a bigger boat, for one it’s challenging.
I would not try this single handed on a much bigger boat.
Be careful and mindful, a stupid move could get us hurt badly.
Sailing under bare poles is a skill that could get us out of some very deep yogurt in the event of an engine failure.
This is a way less fraught technique than making the docking with sails still up.
If you are thinking of taking the Yachtmaster exam, handling simulated engine failures and manoeuvring under sail are required skills.
I liked the bare poles way so much that I’m thinking that when single handed I will use it to pick up the mooring, since steering, dropping the sail, and grabbing the mooring all at once can get a tad busy—I missed it three times in a row one day last week.
Here’s a short clip of my second approach:
Because of the camera angle and jumpy video the approach looks faster than it was:
At the start of the approach I was doing 2.3 knots.
When we came alongside we were down to less than one knot.
I did not rig fenders since they are permanently on our floating wharf.
Sorry about the quality, it’s from our dock Nest camera.
…The alternative was a policy only for boats with a value above $75K US. I have massively upgraded my 45 year old Morgan 382 for offshore voyaging (most recently a new Beta 35), as well as its cosmetics. But I know the market and no surveyor could honestly value it at $75K (my paint job was $55K). Any new suggestions out there?
One thought, don’t give up on getting a fair insurance valuation for your boat, taking into account the cost of upgrades. We just did exactly that after an extensive refit of our J/109, and even managed to talk the insurance company into an agreed value, (rather than actual cash value) that’s substantially higher than un-refitted sister ships of the same age sell for (25-35%).
We were also able to keep the insured value of the M&R 56 at an agreed value at least double what the typical >40-year-old aluminum boat would sell for by keeping the underwriter (and broker) informed annually of all maintenance and upgrades and providing a detailed report on both refits.
Point being that insurance company stated rules are not set in stone. They will bend them if the business case is compelling enough.
Refit Report
The secret to this is to provide the insurance company with a professional-looking report on the refit, as we did, including:
Having a good look at some of the pictures where I can see the furling gear you used on MC it appears to me that it is about 1 size smaller then your head furler. Is this correct? And if so, were you ever concerned about its size in heavy weather?
I have long been a fan of holding-plate refrigeration systems over evaporator systems:
More efficient.
When done right, better temperature consistency.
Can be force-run when there is ample power, say when motoring or a generator is running—can be automated.
Can be shut down overnight for quiet without the box thawing out or getting too warm—if the plates are big enough and the insulation good enough.
Don’t cycle on and off every few minutes, which I find irritating.
With intelligent management a holding plate system reduces required battery bank size.
And no, I’m not talking about engine-driven holding-plate systems, which, based on having owned two, I don’t recommend—hanging a compressor off an engine just about never ends well.
Rather, I like holding-plate systems with a powerful compressor being driven by a big electric motor (1/2 to 3/4 HP) like the Glacier Bay system that gave us great service for nearly 30 years.
The sad thing is that these seem to have pretty much died out.
Do you know why so-called “fail-safe” ABYC Galvanic Isolators are much more expensive than the Galvanic Isolators that are still allowed here in Europe?
I’m not sure how many times over the years I have beaten some variation of this drum here at AAC. Here and here come to mind, but I’m sure I have written it, or something like it, many more times.
And yet, when a new cool piece of gear comes out, what do we all often do, me included, but get all excited about all the awards it’s won and its cool new features and run right out and buy it.
Hell, I have done this more than once:
Let me see if I can be gentle about this…that’s a really stupid thing to do.
Oops…I guess I kinda failed the gentle test on that one. The good news for me is that, unlike with full articles, my editor does not see Tips before they are published!
Whatever, here’s why buying newly released products, particularly electronics, is…unwise: