Don’t rely solely on gadgets to know where you are going

I  was down below checking our position on the ancient Loran C that came with our first boat, a 1976 Bristol 24. It was in the mid-1990s, and as a monetarily challenged writer, I’d invested nothing in additional electronics except for an Autohelm ST 2000 autopilot. We were off the coast of Maine between Casco Bay and Boothbay Harbor.

“Where did all this fog come from?” my wife, Liz, asked from the cockpit.

“It lives here,” I said, concentrating on the Loran and the chart.

“Well, it’s here big time,” she said.

I stopped what I was doing. “It is?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s home,” she said.

When I emerged from below a few seconds later, I was shocked to see nothing but gray mist. With only a highly suspect speedo, and no depthsounder, GPS or radar, and with big tides and plenty of rocks to hit, I started to sweat. I told Liz to adjust our heading to better compensate for the flood tide, adding about five degrees to the south just to be sure we’d clear the Cuckolds, a nasty ledge off Southport Island.

“Better to overshoot than find ha’d watah,” I said, mimicking the accent of Down East Mainers.

I went below again, hoping that the Loran was working properly, but I didn’t put much stock in it. It was almost always a half-mile off or more, and it sometimes wouldn’t even work. I was pretty much on my own—in the fog.

Fortunately, I’d been keeping a DR plot, or dead reckoning, as well as an EP, or estimated position. I had a series of running fixes from sea buoy to sea buoy. I’d also gotten a couple fixes, which is by definition a crossing of two, three or more bearings on a chart. The bottom line is I knew where I was, even if I couldn’t see where I was.

Nowadays, some sailors rely too much on GPS and electronic charts. In fact, I know a number of sailors who no longer carry paper charts. “Paper charts are too expensive,” they say, choosing instead to rely on the “toys” to get them safely from point A to point B in a boat that costs as much as a nice house. GPS is fallible. So are electronic charts. A prudent mariner won’t rely on any single source of data while on passage. Redundancy is the key, making DR handy to know.

The basics of DR are as follows. First, a DR differs from an EP because a DR is based on a plot from a known position—a harbor entrance, for example. It is then carried forward along a rhumbline from that position until the next fix. To do a DR, you need to know three things: the speed of the boat through the water, the time the boat has been under way since the last fix to determine the distance traveled, and the course you are steering.

That’s an over-simplification, of course, because on a sailboat you’re never going to maintain an exact speed. You’re also going to be subject to (1) leeway, the push of wind against a boat that forces it to leeward; (2) set and drift, which translated into English means the set is the direction of a current (water moving in a given direction), and drift is the speed of the current (tidal or river); and (3) steering error. A DR doesn’t take leeway and set and drift into account, but an EP does. That’s why prudent navigators do both a DR and an EP. These folks are, alas, going the way of the pterodactyls.

Let’s briefly talk about courses. You’ve got true and magnetic courses. True courses are the convention when doing chart work (the outer compass rose on a chart, as opposed to the inner one, which is magnetic). The navigator uses parallel rules or a protractor to plot a course (rhumbline), and then converts the course into magnetic, taking into account something called variation—compass errors due to changes in the earth’s magnetic field. Variation differs from place to place, and it changes from year to year. Variation is marked on charts inside the compass rose, and you have to account for it when converting true courses to magnetic courses. Frankly, most sailors I know just use the magnetic compass rose and forget about the conversion.

However, sticking with the true course and variation, if you plot a true course of 90 degrees, and you have a variation of 10 degrees west, your magnetic course to steer will be 100 degrees (add west variation; subtract east variation). Also on the chart is the annual increase of variation for given locations, and that should be accounted for as well.

You also have to, or should, take deviation into account. Deviation simply means that a particular boat will have deviations in the compass because of metals in the boat that throw off the compass. A deviation table is necessary, and to get that you have to “swing the compass” to see how far off your compass is on any given heading.

To measure distances, use the latitude scale on the chart in the area where you’re sailing. A degree of latitude equals 60 nautical miles. Each nautical mile is equal to one minute of latitude, and each nautical mile, or minute of latitude, is equal to 60 seconds. As to time, that’s usually expressed on a 24-hour clock (military time).

To calculate distance, multiply the speed of the boat by the time traveled in minutes, and divide it by 60. Here’s an easy example. If your boat travels at 6 knots in one hour (60 minutes), you get a figure of 360. Divide that by 60, and you get six nautical miles. Or put another way, you get this:
Distance = S x T
60

To calculate your speed, multiply 60 by the distance traveled, and divide it by the time. For example, if your boat has traveled six nautical miles in one hour, you will have been making good a speed of 6 knots.
Speed = 60 x D
T

To calculate the time it will take you to close with your next marks or for an entire passage, multiply 60 by the distance, and divide it by your speed. For example, if your passage is six nautical miles and your speed is 6 knots, you’ll require an hour to make the passage.
Time = 60 x D
S

The temptation is great to rely solely on GPS and electronic charts, but some basic knowledge of DR will stand you in good stead if your electronics go on the fritz. Besides, a little brainwork with a paper chart is a good thing, an enrichment of the sailing experience through the practice of an ancient method of navigation.

Simple solutions to little problems will make your cruising time more comfortable, relaxing and enjoyable

My wife and I aren’t world cruisers. We are never going to be world cruisers. Our 33-foot Morgan Out Island is not that capable and neither are we. But since we moved to South Florida 13 years ago we have done a lot of cruising—about 60 days per year. That includes our yearly three-week trip to the Bahamas, trips to the Florida Keys and a whole lot of two- to three-day cruises around South Florida. That works out to almost three years of days (and nights) onboard. In that time, we have discovered some simple solutions to make our cruising time as enjoyable as possible.We aren’t reinventing the wheel, just providing a “baker’s dozen” of simple ideas to make your boat time more a pleasure than an ordeal. None of them costs much money; most only a few dollars and some elbow grease. Which proves that once you have your sailboat, the sport doesn’t have to be expensive.

Color code your tools

On rare occasions—very rare—our engine has stopped. When a diesel engine stops the cause is usually fuel starvation, i.e. clogged filters. For purging the system of air, I need three different sized wrenches. At best this is a tedious job. At the worst, I am anxious to get back underway. For jobs like this, rather than rummaging through my tools to find the correct sized wrench, I’ve marked the ones I need with colored plastic tape. (They could also be marked with nail polish.) You can easily mark the same size wrench for different jobs with different colors.

Fly “Old Glory” proudly

We fly our American flag when we sail. Unfortunately it doesn’t take long for even a high-quality flag to begin to show some wear. I coat the stitching on the outer edge with clear silicone sealant to extend its life and appearance. When dry, the silicone is invisible and very effective at preventing the thread from deteriorating.

Sop up little leaks

Let’s face it. Even the driest vessel has some persistent leaks, and they are buggers to track down. Water doesn’t flow in a straight line. A leak on the toerail near the bow could appear anywhere inside the cabin. I’ve given up on a couple and adapted to the situation. I’ve taken bath towels that my wife deems no longer suitable for use and cut them into squares (a large towel cut once widthwise and twice lengthwise creates six squares). I then fold them over to a third its size and stitch the ends. The pad is perfect to set below a persistent leak. Choose a coordinating color to your sailboat’s interior and it’s reasonably attractive. After they do what they are supposed to do, set them out to dry. When necessary, toss them in the washing machine. If they become stained and tattered, they are usable as soft pads for washing the deck.

Freshen up cabins and lockers

Most of us are weekend sailors. A sailboat that is sealed up for a week will develop a stagnant smell that tends to be stronger in closed lockers and drawers. Toss a couple of fabric softener sheets into each cabinet or drawer. For the hanging locker, fasten the sheets to a hanger with a clothespin. This adds a bit of “freshness” to the air. Replace the sheets each month during the season. For confined areas, such as the head, we use Renuzit air fresheners. These puppies come in dozens of scents. Break the seal and twist the top to expose the deodorizer. If you are economy-minded, close them up when you leave your boat. However, if you leave them open you’ll be greeted with a pleasant aroma on your next visit. They cost about $1 and are both economical and effective.

Use low-tech wind gauges

High-tech sailing instruments are great. We have electronic wind instruments, but we back it up with old reliable telltales. Salvage an old audiocassette, cut off two 12-inch pieces and tie to your stays. When they start to fray, replace with new pieces. One cassette should last for years.

Create cushion covers

We bought our first cockpit “jackknife” chairs more than 10 years ago. In order to keep them clean and add to the comfort, I created a slipcover for each from bath towels. Sew a pocket on one end (fold over approximately six inches and stitch the ends). Slip the pocket over the top of the cushion. When the cover becomes soiled take it off and wash it. Create a few spares. On a three-week cruise we use many covers.

Identify your boat

After dinner ashore we often found it difficult to identify our sailboat in crowded anchorages in the dark. I affixed a strip of reflective tape to each side of the boom end. Now, when we return to our “home away from home,” our flashlight can pick out our boat from the others. However, if this becomes too popular among the other boats, we are going to have to cut a unique shape to the tape to further set it apart.

More towel tips

The floor space of our head is about two feet by two feet. That’s a small space for the sink, toilet, storage and shower, but pretty typical on sailboats in the 30- to 35-foot range. When we shower, everything gets wet. Some of the water used to creep past the door into the cabin. Now, before showering, I lay a towel outside the door to catch any spray. When I’m finished, I use that same towel to dry the surfaces to keep my crew happy. I hang the towel to dry and then stow it for the next day. On a three-week cruise, we set several towels aside for this purpose.

Organize the icebox

Our top-loading refrigerator is pretty efficient. The biggest problem was that small items tended to get lost in the bottom of the box. We purchased soft-sided lunch cooler bags to stow many items. Currently we have three bags in different colors: blue for breakfast items (B=breakfast), light green (lettuce colored) for lunch preparations (L=lunch), and red for other items (R=everything else). These bags conform to the shape available and don’t take up as much space as hard containers or baskets.

Tidy-bowl your hull

We thought yellow hull stains were a problem that was confined to the Intracoastal Waterway. It turns out that this “ICW Smile” is a problem for boats everywhere. We discovered that it comes off easily with toilet bowl cleaner. This is a pretty caustic product, so wear rubber gloves, old clothing and protect your inflatable from run-off. Squirt it on a rag or sponge. The stain comes off with a minimal amount of rubbing. Wipe off as much cleaner as possible, then rinse thoroughly. If your hull has been painted, test it first to see if it affects the paint. The name brands don’t work any better than what the discount stores sell, and one bottle lasts a long time.

Save those plastic jars

When I was a kid, my father saved tin cans to sort and store all kinds of odds and ends. Cans aren’t practical for boaters. Besides, they have been replaced by a better storage option: plastic jars. Almost everything that used to be sealed in cans now comes in plastic jars. These are great for boaters. They are clear, so the contents are visible, the screw-on lids seal tight to keep moisture out, and they’re free! We use them all over our sailboat. In the galley, the quart-sized jars are used as canisters for coffee, tea and candy bars. We use eight-ounce jars to store salad dressings and sauces in the refrigerator. I have a few favorites that I use when draining fuel to replace filter elements. Even the small ones have a use for storing nuts, bolts, washers and small fittings.

Switch to liquid soap

There is not much worse than a slimy bar of soap, unless it’s a dried-up bar of soap that’s harder than a walnut shell. We use liquid soap pump dispensers in the galley and the head. Squirt out what you need. The sealed container keeps the remainder fresh and ready to use. The dispensers cost about a buck and 64-ounce refill containers are available in many scents for about $5.

Cut the power

If your boat sits in salt water, corrosion can be a big problem. The mixture of metals below the waterline combined with salt water creates galvanic corrosion. Add to that stray current from a neighboring vessel and you’ll go through shaft zincs very quickly. My shaft zinc costs about $15 and I change it myself. If I had a diver do it, he would charge an additional $30. Simple solution: Disconnect the shore-power cord to minimize problems from stray current when you are at your home dock (unless you have something that is powered by 110-volt). Sure, the batteries will discharge, but if they are in good condition the discharge will only be slight from one weekend to the next. With your vessel isolated, the zinc’s life will be extended.

What is the difference between true and apparent wind, and does it matter?

One of the more esoteric concepts beginning sailors find themselves trying to wrap their brains around is the phenomenon of apparent wind. What is apparent wind? And no, it’s not when you look outside, see the trees swaying in the breeze and say, “Apparently it’s windy.”

Loosely defined, apparent wind is the wind we feel and experience when we are in motion. It’s a combination of the actual wind (true wind) that blows over land and sea and the wind created by our moving forward. The popular analogy is that of riding a bike. Get on a bike and start pedaling. That wind you feel on your face is apparent wind. Even if there is a slight wind at your back (the true wind) you can still feel the wind coming from in front of you (the apparent wind).

Now, increase that following wind and, at the same bike speed, you’ll start feeling less of a headwind coming at you. That’s because apparent wind is a combination of the true wind and the wind created by speeding forward. The important thing to realize here, however, is that as you travel faster the apparent wind not only increases in speed but it also changes the angle of the wind.

On a boat this can be easily demonstrated and felt by first sailing upwind, and then bearing off to a downwind course. On a close reach and higher you’ll feel the wind in your face, the boat speeding along, and you may even want to reach for your jacket. Turn down to run with the wind and it’s as if you are sailing in different weather. Suddenly the fresh breeze is gone, the boat feels slower and you’ll soon be shedding that jacket.

Because of this relationship between true wind and apparent wind, and its speed and angle, we get such things as relative velocities and vector sums. And for many of us this is the point where the eyes roll into the back of the head and our brains begin to shut down. But we need not concern ourselves with advanced math—that’s why we have digital instruments.

The main points we want to understand is that when sailing any course other than directly downwind (or, obviously, in the no-sail zone) the apparent wind will always come from farther ahead than the true wind, and that when sailing any course from beam reach to close hauled the apparent wind will be stronger (higher velocity) than the true wind. The vector diagrams in photograph above and the illustration to the left show the relationship between true wind, the wind from sailing forward and apparent wind.

So, what does this mean to our sailing? Well, the wind we feel on our face is the same wind the sails feel. So we sail to the apparent wind, and not to the true wind. Moreover, we can take advantage of apparent wind to sail faster.

On slow, heavy boats the difference between the true and apparent wind may be small. But on light, fast boats—think multihulls and planing dinghies—it’s a different story. You may hear sailors talk about boats making their own wind. What they’re referring to is boats that can sail faster than the true wind. Remember, the faster you go the stronger the apparent wind, so the faster the boat goes the more wind it gets and the faster it goes. This is also why sailing dead downwind is typically slower than heading up and harnessing the power of apparent wind.

Iceboats, which have very little resistance between hull and ice, are very good at making their own wind and will often sail two to four times faster than the true wind. This self-perpetuating speed may lead one to believe that boats are capable of breaking the laws of physics to become perpetual motion machines, and the we have to ask ourselves, “Where does it end?”

Well, let’s go back to our iceboat example. As the iceboat picks up speed the apparent wind increases and also moves forward. So the sailor sheets in for the new wind angle and picks up more speed, further increasing the apparent wind and moving it even farther forward. Soon the sailor is sheeted in as tight as possible and is sailing as close to the apparent wind as possible. If the apparent wind moves any more forward the boat will essentially find itself in the no-sail zone and the sail will begin to luff and the boat will lose speed. So there is a limit on just how fast a boat can go relative to the wind.