This past weekend I was fortunate to have enough days off of work to visit some friends on the other side of Lake Michigan. For several days, Friday’s forecast called for northwest winds at 10-15 knots, with sunny skies and pleasant weather for the entire weekend. Monday’s return called for very light winds, so I’d probably motor most of the way home.
Since Kristin still worked Friday and Monday, our plan was for me to sail Priorities alone for the 67 miles across Lake Michigan to White Lake on Friday, with Kristin taking the Lake Express Ferry across in the evening. I’d bring the boat home alone again on Monday.
I spent all day Thursday prepping for what would be our first cruise on Priorities of the season: mow the lawn at home, finish the laundry, get a few groceries, inflate the dinghy, pump out the holding tank, and bring our stand up paddleboards to the boat.
A quick check of the forecast one last time Friday morning revealed what I was hoping for: northwest winds 10-13 knots most of the way before dying off in the evening… a potentially great spinnaker run across the lake!
Cast Off
I rigged my spinnaker in its sock and bag at the dock so it was ready to go, set up the jacklines, then cast off the dock lines at 8:30 in the morning Central Time on Friday.
Since the northwest winds were blowing offshore, the water was nice and flat at first. After raising the main just outside the breakwall I noticed true wind speeds around 15-18 knots… right at the upper range of my “light air” spinnaker. Since I was also alone, and NOT racing, I initially played it conservatively and sailed with jib and main the first 5 miles to see how much wind I’d end up with farther from land. Besides, I still wanted to have a bowl of cereal for breakfast… it would be tough to not spill any milk when trying to fly an overpowered spinnaker singlehanded! Boat speeds were still just over 7 knots, so the miles clicked off quickly anyway.
5 miles offshore and free from nearshore weather effects, the winds returned to their forecasted 10 knots or so. I raised the spinnaker. With double the sail area and much lighter cloth than the jib, my asymmetric spinnaker really helps keep boat speed up as the wind lightens on a broad or beam reach. Over the last two seasons I’ve found I motor far less now that I have this sail in my inventory. Boat speeds climbed back into the 7s, then a few puffs over 8 knots!
With the initially flat water, my autopilot handled the steering well. Since I wasn’t sailing too deep (nor trying to), I could also cleat the sheet in the winch and only needed to make occasional adjustments. It was turning into a great day!
First Challenge of the Day
After another two and a half hours or so I was 20 miles out, making great progress. The wind was getting stronger… somewhere around 15 knots… and was close to my limit for flying the chute. The waves were getting bigger, too, making the autopilot work harder. So far, everything seemed pretty stable, and the skies didn’t appear to hint of any drastic changes in the weather any time soon, so I continued to enjoy the day.
I wanted to get a few photos of Milwaukee disappearing over the horizon (for this blog!), so I clipped my tether to the jackline and brought my camera to the mast.
After getting a few “disappearing skyline” photos, I turned my attention to the spinnaker and sock above me. When flying the spinnaker I like to check for chafe every few hours, especially in larger waves since the chute can flail around and rub on parts of the rig.
Everything looked great, except… the spinnaker sock downhaul, used to lower the sock and douse the giant spinnaker, was caught on the radar reflector high above the deck! D’oh! Obviously it had been left too loose and tangled itself when flailing about in the waves I was now sailing in.
A few quick attempts at “flicking” the line to free it proved futile, and merely demonstrated how jammed it really was. At first I didn’t want to force it for fear of breaking the downhaul.
I ran through my mind how I would handle a jammed sock: get the autopilot to steer very deep downwind to collapse the spinnaker behind the main, ease the sheet, try to bring the clew to the tack (maybe even tie it), then try lowering the halyard and maybe it would “pop” off. Maybe I’d have to try to wrap the sail around the forestay. If the winds increased a bunch more, I’d be dangerously overpowered, too, and easing the sheet and flogging it without getting it down was something I didn’t want to have to do. My $7000 spinnaker could get shredded.
None of these are good options on a racing boat with lots of experienced crew, let alone me singlehanded while nearly beyond sight of land. Priorities heeled a little more in a puff, and somehow the clouds seemed a little darker. Glancing to windward I noticed a few more whitecaps, too… or, at least, that’s how it felt.
It was one of those times where I told myself to calmly think things through and not to take any unnecessary risks just to save some part of the boat.
15 minutes of flicking the downhaul… while still clipped to my tether and being careful not to fall off the boat… in all kinds of directions and patterns yielded no results. How frustrating a simple little thing can be! Though I wasn’t in immediate danger, and the winds were supposed to eventually die, I wasn’t sure how much over the forecasted level they would continue building, so I decided I should try and douse now before things got out of hand.
With the autopilot’s wireless remote, I headed deep downwind and pulled hard on the downhaul. The sock moved down, dousing the top third of the sail. Meeting more resistance, I decided pulling very hard was actually a good idea… if the line broke it would make a sockless douse much easier.
My radar reflector is tube shaped and held in place by two hose clamps tightly gripping the intermediate shroud between the upper and lower spreaders. Perhaps if I pulled hard enough it would rotate the reflector around the shroud, releasing the line…
It worked! The radar reflector rotated, and the downhaul was free! A quick check of the line revealed minimal chafe, so I hoisted the sock to full height once again.
After this happened, I cleated the downhaul to a cleat on the bow to prevent this from recurring. The sock halyard was cleated, too, like I always do. I sailed on with the chute still up, resuming my enjoyment of a great day. Boat speed pushed over 9 knots a few times.
A short time later, around 26 miles out, the last of the buildings of Milwaukee’s skyline faded over the horizon and into the haze. No land was visible in any direction.
Halfway across the lake, the winds and waves were getting to be too much for the autopilot to reliably hold. I also worried about exceeding the strength of the lightweight spinnaker, so I doused the chute and continued via jib and main. Soon after, the winds shifted to the north northwest, making a spinnaker run more difficult anyway. I still did over 7 knots.
17 miles from Michigan, after 24 miles of no land visible, I noticed land starting to appear ahead of me. By 7 miles out, the wind had shifted to the north but also died to under 6 knots, so I started the engine and lowered the sails.
My Second Challenge
With the 3-5 foot waves only beginning to diminish from earlier in the day, I noticed the autopilot wandering off heading by 15 degrees left and right in the waves. Generally my autopilot does a great job in pretty adverse conditions, though during a few occasions in the last few seasons this has happened before. A quick check in the lazarette confirmed my suspicion: the autopilot tiller’s connection to the rudder post had worked itself loose. Fixing it, or at least getting it to work well again, involves climbing deep into the lazarette to work on the rudder post… a miserable job when underway. I definitely need to come up with a more permanent fix this winter… some of the autopilot tiller’s screws are stripped.
I was fortunate this occurred when it did… steering by hand for the last hour wasn’t a crisis. The autopilot wasn’t completely useless, either, so in a pinch I could still use it.
A Great Weekend
By 8:30pm Eastern Time, 11 hours after leaving Milwaukee, I anchored on the west side of White Lake just offshore from our friends’ house. It’s a deep anchorage… 45 feet… but with 80 feet of chain and 70 feet of rope I had about a 3:1 scope. Light winds were forecasted, but if they increased I had plenty more rope to put out if needed, and plenty of space to swing around the anchor. With the light winds I wanted to avoid having the rope drag across the bottom and chafe, so I kept the scope short. One of these years I’ll get more chain!
Saturday and Sunday were awesome… stand up paddle boarding, kayaking, hanging out in a giant inflatable flamingo float, and sailing. Good times spent with good friends made for a great weekend!
Monday morning I tightened up the autopilot tiller, then spent the day motoring home in glass flat water with zero wind. Just the kind of day to finish composing this blog post!
