Wicked Water

Weather (wind and bitter cold) delayed our launch by two days to Wednesday, 4/18, which turned out well because the predicted winds vanished. We met our training captain, Dave Skolnick, at 10:00 am. For the first couple of hours we reviewed boat systems, then broke for lunch. The surprisingly calm seas allowed travel to Annapolis a day early to pick up our new dinghy. We got expert tips along the way. I motored the boat around the harbor until the rendezvous with Pete in the new RIB. We picked up a mooring ball at the inner harbor for the evening. Pete broke out a nice bottle of wine to celebrate a successful first day of training.  

Day two of training with Captain Dave started with a hearty breakfast, strong coffee, and more calm weather. We left our mooring ball and headed south to an area away from most water traffic to practice boating skills. Our pretend dock was crafted out of two fenders, tied to two small-sized anchors, in about 12 feet of water. Both Pete and I took turns approaching the makeshift dock. Then we did figure-eights around the fenders while maintaining a consistent distance from each fender. The last fender exercise was intended to mimic entering a slip. We noticed that one of the fenders was drifting; one small anchor didn’t set. As we retrieved the fender, we found the issue: no anchor. Maybe Poseidon swallowed it. Switch to a different exercise: backing in a straight line. We found that we have no directional control of our Mainship in reverse. This is where the $10K investment in our stern thruster pays off! Pete and I both executed perfectly straight backing approaches to the remaining fender. I’m gaining confidence!

Next, get acquainted with our radar unit. For this, we headed straight out to the ships anchored in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay. The images on our radar screen were starting to make sense.

It was about time to break for lunch but instead we headed north to our home marina to avoid a cold front coming from the northwest. The wind picked up and the waves got higher. Our St. Croix davits were swinging our new dinghy right and left. Then we heard a distressing radio message: “Securité, Securité, Securité.” The US Coast Guard was issuing a Marine Warning regarding the cold front with wind gusts of 35-45 knots. Small crafts were recommended to seek safe harbor. And so we did. 

But not soon enough. The front hit us hard. We were tossed like the the S.S. Minnow. We lost the dinghy gas tank, an oar, and one bag of trash, before we lost engine power. We were close to a large shipping range marker that could do some serious damage if we drifted into it… so as we attempted to troubleshoot, we notified “BoatUS.” The closest service from Baltimore was 30-45 minutes away. We fired up the generator to keep the thrusters powered should we need them to get away from the range marker. We also dropped the anchor but that wouldn’t set. Ten minutes later, the generator quit. Our thoughts went to dirty fuel, but the fuel filter window looked clear. All three of us were tossed across the salon several times. Pete and Dave took turns securing (and re-securing) the dinghy and davits. I was of little help since I was seasick. 

BoatUS Captain Dale and his assistant arrived, Dave secured the tow line and struggled to pull up anchor, which now had set and was stuck. Dave managed to get it loose but noticed the anchor shaft was bent. (Those were some high winds!) We made it into North Point Marina and tied up to a convenient end slip. Our diesel mechanic from Gratitude Marina was listening to his radio, heard we were returning under tow, and met us at the dock. He came aboard and got the engine started, as well as the generator. We were all puzzled. Why had the engine quit? Why wouldn’t the generator run?

We agreed to test the systems with a sea trial in the morning. For now, we just needed a shower, a meal, and a warm bed. We could have stayed on the boat, but at this point, we took advantage of the comfort of the motel.

The next morning, with the help of Ben the mechanic, we diagnosed the issue. There’s a toggle on our control panel that must be “on” in order for the engine to run. We somehow overlooked that in our troubleshooting. We concluded that at some point, when Pete was tossed across the salon, his shoulder must’ve hit that toggle switch, which turned off the engine. Not all boats have this engine control switch, but we now know that our Mainship does, and we won’t make that mistake again! 

All in all, we learned an awful lot about our boat and what she can tolerate. So, it may cost a bit more to replace the lost items, but overall, I consider the day a success!