Warrior Sailing Program

3 weeks ago

Shared from Warrior Sailor James Burge:

Learning to Paint from Rembrandt: A newby sailor’s perspective.
We all know what great instructors the Warrior Sailing coaches are but we very rarely get to see what truly great sailors they are. As new warriors to the program, we hear stories of them racing and what they’ve done. Maybe we watch a video of them hauling ass in streamlined yachts across the ocean, cranking on the winches but since our courses are “101 beginner”, done on smaller boats in controlled environments, we very rarely get to see them in their true element, in “combat conditions”. Yesterday I was (very) fortunate to experience that with Ben Poucher and see some of his skills.
Ben, Oscar and I started the day early, putting together a recently donated 90’s era Hunter 28 that had been in storage for 2 years. The boat seemed to be in great condition minus the engine having some issues and missing a main sail slug keeper in the mast. We rigged the boat and Ben got the engine going, IDing the problem as air getting in the fuel line. The weather forecast called for sunny skis, a warm 65° Michigan summer day and 20 knot west by southwest winds, perfect for the 31.5 nautical mile sail north from Elk Rapids to Charlevoix. We left the harbor around 1:45pm under motor, quickly raised the sails before leaving the breakwater, and got under way. In the strong winds on a beam reach, the Hunter quickly accelerated and hit speeds of over 8 knots, making good time for a fat old cruiser with a shoal keel, even after we reefed sails. For 5 hours she bounced and weaved over the 3-5 ft waves of Grand Traverse bay and Lake Michigan, with us trading off the helm so Ben could make Zoom calls with some of you and take care of business down below (occasionally checking on Oscar and I when a big wave or gust would round the boat up) and so I could “feed the fish” a couple of times (yeah, I’m a land lubber infantryman), all the while Oscar was beaming with smiles, admiring the boat he will be living on and maintaining this summer. About an hour out from our final destination the winds slowed to around 15knots so we took the reefs out to maintain speed and practice some of our skills. It wasn’t until we were close to the entrance to Charlevoix that our skills were really tested and we got to see Ben in his true element. For those not familiar, the city of Charlevoix is located between the coast of Lake Michigan and Lake Charlevoix, the two lakes connected by a channel with a drawbridge going over it and a small connector pond called Round Lake. As we approached the final leg of the journey, we turned east and went wing on wing. With little warning, the winds increased back to 20 knots and we began racing dark clouds of a fast approaching pop-up storm that the Great Lakes are so notorious for. We were right at the entrance of the channel, 300m offshore, so we weren’t too worried. We fired up the engine, turned up head into wind, furled the Genoa and lowered the main (trying to keep the slugs from popping out)
...and that’s when the engine died. That “oh shit” moment that sailors dread when you realize you have no propulsion, no means of movement and you have strong winds and a storm pushing your boat from the stern towards land that’s danger close. It was then when we saw Ben’s years of experience and skills come into play. Like a seasoned combat vet, he calmly and coolly started giving out directions; with the little bit of movement we had left from the dead engine he turned beam to wind. “Let the main sheet out all the way, raise the main sail”. Main sail going up, slugs popping out, battens getting hung up on the Lazy Jacks. Lower the main, get the damn slugs back in while unsnagging the sail. Unfurl the Genoa so we can get some kinda speed and control. Genoa is out now but can’t tack, the jib sheets are too fat and get stuck in the self-tailing winches. Get the main un-fucked, main sail finally up. Oscar and I to the front to untie the jib sheet off the Genoa, Oscar pulling hard on the sail while I untie, Ben manning the helm, assessing, planning and adjusting. Genoa sheet untied, Oscar races back and with marine hulk-strength, quickly rips the sheet out of the now un-tensioned winch. Sheet is quickly retied to the Genoa, now we’re back in business. Ben directs Oscar to the helm, Ben moves down below to fix the engine, I’m trimming sheets and trying to call the drawbridge on channel 13 to let them know we’re going to be coming in under sail with a 20 knot wind behind us. No answer, call again and again, nothing. Switch to channel 16, no answer. Try again and again. Fuck, I hope they see us coming in and we can time it just right for the every-thirty minute-bridge-raising. All I can think of now is the YouTube video I watched a few weeks ago of a sailboat going under a bridge being pushed by a current; total yard sale of carnage. Oscar is tacking the boat back and forth out front of the entrance as the clouds darken, buying Ben time as he works on the engine below. Oscar smiles at me and says “drop anchor?”, referring to a story I told him of a similar situation my GF and I had on our sailboat when our engine started to crap out in bad wind and waves and we didn’t have our sails ready; It had never occurred to us to drop anchor as an emergency action until after (I still don’t know if it’s legit but it’s staying in my toolbox until told otherwise). I just laughed and said “yeah, hopefully not”. About then Ben yelled from below “start the engine!”. Nothing. Fuck. “Try it now!”. Nothing. Fuck. “Now!”. Screeching of the starter, a couple of strained coughs and chugs and finally, success! Ben comes up smelling of diesel, “hey, one of you guys, need you to go down and pump”. Pump? Ben has MacGyvered the fuel intake with a paper clip, stick of chewing gum and the foil wrapper to shut off and bypass the main fuel tank and rigged a hose into a spare can of diesel to fuel the engine (that’s the best I can explain, you’ll have to get the technical details from Ben lol). Oscar goes below, I go to helm, Ben comes up, we bring back in the Genoa, main stays up (just in case) and into the channel we head, winds still blowing, bridge still down with no radio contact. Ben says be prepared to do slow tacks and maybe a circle if the bridge doesn’t open. The channel is 41 feet 10” wide according to the charts, the Hunter is 28 ft long. I ask Ben if he wants to steer. Yeah, prob a good idea, lol. He says I’ll have to trim sails then. Haha, that’s a fair trade I think. As Ben begins to tack back and forth to lose speed, the bridge raises up and the rains come down. Home free into the calm waters of round lake (the small connector pond between Lake Michigan channel and Lake Charlevoix).
The winds die down as we enter Lake Charlevoix but that’s no issue, Oscar is down at the engine pumping away keeping it running. It’s 8pm as we pull into a slip and start putting the boat to bed, over an hour after first coming up to Charlevoix and engine failure. We all laugh at what happened, I joke that maybe I’ll just be a virtual sailor, like a Call-of-Duty Warrior. The only damage to the boat is a busted plastic winch cap from Oscars sheet saving hulk-strength. The storm passes over revealing a double rainbow, a perfect ending to the voyage we all agree. To Ben, in his experience of ocean crossings and offshore racing, this wasn’t too bad, not a big deal. To Oscar and I, BECAUSE of Ben, it wasn’t too bad or a big deal. If we hadn’t had him with us though, his sailing skill and technical ability, it could’ve been a big deal; a REALLY big, bad deal. At very best Oscar and I would’ve dropped anchor outside of the harbor and been stuck there bobbing like a cork in a storm, me seasick and puking overboard and him still beaming with a huge smile, just happy to be aboard his new boat. ... See MoreSee Less

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