With National Safe Boating Week coming up May 18-24, the nonprofit BoatUS Foundation for Boating Safety and Clean Water has listed the following seven practical tips to keep you cruising safely all summer long. These suggestions come from more than 40 years of helping to ensure that every day on the water is a great one, without an injury or fatality. 

1. Follow the dates. Some required safety equipment, such as flares, have an expiration date. Fire extinguishers must be replaced 12 years after their date of manufacture, so you will have to do some math. And if you have automatic life jackets aboard, the dissolvable bobbin inside the inflation mechanism also has an expiration date stamped on the outside. Practically speaking, these dates help ensure the equipment will work when you need it. But don’t stop there. While inflatable life jacket inflation cylinders don’t expire, a thorough annual inspection of the cylinder and life jacket, including an overnight inflation test, is something you should have on your calendar every season.
2. Get comfy. 83% of people who drowned in recreational boating accidents in 2022 were not wearing life jackets. To wear your life jacket more often, you need a life jacket you don’t mind wearing. There are many styles of life jackets today, such as inflatables, hybrids and special use vest types (eg., fishing, paddling) that are comfortable even on hot days and allow all the movement you need. Wearing yours also influences guests to wear theirs. Regardless, ensure a life jacket is always within reach of everyone aboard. Youngsters should never wear an adult jacket, and if you find yourself short on a correctly sized jacket, go to one of the BoatUS Foundation Kids Life Jacket loaner program locations to borrow one for free.
3. Brush up on basics. It’s been a long winter without boating on your mind. Refresh your boating safety by taking BoatUS Foundation free online course, on-water powerboat training course or brushing up on the rules of the road with the BoatUS Foundation study guide.
4. Start each outing right. Before a day on the water, take a few minutes before you depart to share a safety briefing with your guests. If an emergency arises, you’ll have a team aboard to address it quickly. If you’re wondering what to share, download a customizable predeparture safety briefing checklist.
5. Don’t go alone. Let a trusted family member or friend know where you’re going, when you expect to return, and what to do if you fail to check in. Having someone ashore who knows your whereabouts and trip plans can potentially shorten a response time.
6. One hand for yourself. Always be prepared for sudden, unexpected vessel movement by having a firm footing and one hand connected to the boat. With alcohol a leading factor in boating fatalities, it’s best the other hand isn’t holding a wine, beer or other alcoholic drink – save it for ashore.
7. Don’t rush the startup. For boats with enclosed engine compartments, it is always important to run the blower for a minimum of four minutes before starting the engine and after each refueling. This is especially important after a visit to the gas dock.

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An incident last fall got me thinking. A yacht on its way from the East Coast to the Caribbean had a crew member fall ill. The cause was unknown to those on board. They called the rally’s shoreside support team from their Sat phone, but the team was unable and unqualified to deal with that specific medical situation. The crew member died. 

With more and more older folks taking to sea on small boats, many on extended offshore voyages far from medical facilities, wouldn’t it be a good idea to have some means for accessing medical advice? A cell phone with WiFi access, Single Sideband (SSB), a smartphone or even a texting device like the Garmin InReach makes this possible. Still, a question remains: Which provider should you use?

A serious injury or unknown illness at sea, far from medical help, needs immediate attention, and a phone call, text message or email to a medical professional ashore in that situation can save a life. There are numerous plans and memberships on the market that cover telemedicine, training, custom medical kits—even evacuation from the boat or repatriation to your hospital at home.

For years, I’ve relied on freely available support from Maritime Rescue Coordination Centers (MRCC). MRCCs are part of an international network under the UN’s International Maritime Organization to monitor the sea lanes with the objective of swift response to emergencies, such as vessels in distress, rescue and evacuation of people. Radio medical advice is available free of charge to provide support in cases where an individual suffers either illness or an accident at sea. The advice is intended to supplement the first aid training of the ship’s crew and the written guidance that is available. This requires SSB. It’s important to remember that the ocean is a vast place and, while communications have improved dramatically in recent years thanks to satellite communications, it’s still difficult for shore-based services to physically implement a rescue operation offshore. The emphasis is on rescue “coordination,” since the actual rescue will normally be handled by other maritime vessels who happen to be in the vicinity and can divert to help. This link has numbers for quite a few MRCCs worldwide.

Divers’ Alert Network (DAN), which has been around for almost 40 years, was originally conceived for SCUBA divers needing emergency evacuation to a decompression chamber. There’s now DANBoater.org, which offers an annual subscription of $60 per individual or $100 per family, but not crew. It’s not medical insurance (though they do offer it), and it does not cover doctor or hospital care, however, first responders (those answering your call) are EMTs and can advise on how to stabilize a patient while they coordinate evacuation to the nearest medical facility, which is covered by the subscription. If the situation is deemed necessary, repatriation to your home hospital is possible. DANBoater offers other additional coverage, which is detailed on their website. 

Global Rescue has been around since 2004 and provides global medical services to explorers, extreme skiers, mountain climbers and sailors who go off-grid. To name drop, NASA and National Geographic are clients. You can contact Global Rescue’s hotline via phone from your yacht, the top of a mountain or a tropical island and speak with a medical professional who will walk you through stabilizing a patient. If more serious medical treatment is needed, the service arranges for evacuation to the nearest appropriate medical facility. Once at a shore-based medical facility, Global Rescue’s medical team will consult with the onsite doctor, and if agreed upon, they may authorize and cover repatriation to the patient’s home hospital. Global Rescue basic subscriptions are not medical insurance. Doctors, emergency room or hospitalization costs are not covered, though they do offer these as add-ons. Both have age limits, which can be extended. The Global Rescue website has an easy-to-complete form that gives you an immediate annual membership fee based on your age and the length of time you expect to be away. When I plugged in my information, I found that 30 days of coverage would cost me $259. A full year would cost $2,000.

GW Maritime Medical Access is a telemedicine group based in Washington, DC, providing immediate medical advice via phone to crews aboard ships, yachts and planes. All calls are taken by a call center staffed by EMTs and all calls get transferred to a board-certified MD. GWMAritime.com is also a direct link. If you can send photos or stream video, all the better. GW Maritime Medical Access has partners that will build custom medical kits for any size operation to include prescription medications. If advisable, they can work with Search & Rescue units, possibly DAN or Global Rescue if you are a member, to get you to the nearest medical facility. The cost for one month is $150. A year is $1,380.

Medaire is a medical service company working with crews on superyachts, airlines and private charter jet clients. They have a hotline, conduct custom training for yacht crews, and will even help assemble your medical kit. The superyacht community is their primary client, but they do offer a package for the private family yacht.

Medical Support Offshore is a UK based telemedicine firm for mariners with a range of services, including telemedicine, crew training and tailored onboard medical kits.

In practical terms, for my personal upcoming cruising endeavors, I’m considering a DANBoater subscription ($60) combined with one month of GW Marine’s telemedicine subscription ($150), to cover me on an offshore delivery north. By the way, my GW subscription would cover the entire crew, while my DAN subscription would only cover me.

As the options are many and complex, this brief article is intended to be a basic introduction to telemedicine for skippers and crews venturing away from land-based medical facilities. If you should find something better that works for you, let me know at DHLyman@mac.com.

The post Is There a Doctor Aboard? appeared first on Cruising World.

The three men who escaped police custody in the Caribbean and are accused of hijacking a catamaran and tossing an American couple overboard have been charged with murder, police said Thursday. 

The Royal Grenada Police Force announced that Ron Mitchell, a 30-year-old unemployed man; Atiba Stanislaus, a 25-year-old farmer; and Trevon Robertson, a 23-year-old unemployed man were charged with capital murder in the presumed deaths of Ralph Hendry and Kathy Brandel. They were also charged with escaping lawful custody, housebreaking, robbery and kidnapping. Stanisclaus faces a rape charge. 

Hendry and Brandel’s bodies have not been found. 

The three men, all from Paradise, St. Andrew, are accused of escaping police custody from South St. George Police Station on Feb. 18 before hijacking the Simplicity in Grenada the next day. Hendry and Brandel, experienced sailors, were on their final voyage with the Salty Dawg Sailing Association when the tragedy occurred. 

Police believe the men killed the couple as they sailed from Grenada to St. Vincent. The men were arrested in St. Vincent on immigration-related charges before authorities extradited them to Grenada this week. 

The couple spent their retirement aboard the Simplicity, where they spent summers in New England and winters enjoying the Caribbean, according to a GoFundMe created for the family. The boat was moored at Grand Anse, which is near the police station the men escaped. 

Simplicity was found abandoned in St. Vincent, Salty Dawg said. Investigators found evidence of a struggle and possible blood onboard. 

“We live in [a] world that at times can be cruel, but it’s also a world of profound beauty, wonder, adventure, love, compassion, caring, and faith. Our parents encompassed all those values and so much more,” the couple’s sons said in a statement.

The post Grenada Boat Hijacking Suspects Charged with Murder appeared first on Cruising World.

Cinema Libre Studio, which is based in the Los Angeles area, has acquired worldwide rights to Beyond The Raging Sea, which it describes as a daring true-life rescue story of adventurers Omar Nour and Omar Samra.

The studio plans to release the film in the United States and United Kingdom with limited theatrical runs this spring.

Beyond The Raging Sea follows these two Egyptian adventurers as they take on the Talisker Whisky Atlantic Challenge, billed as “the world’s toughest row.” It is an unsupported, 3,000-nautical-mile journey from the Canary Islands to the Caribbean island of Antigua.

Sponsored by DHL, their Team O2 dedicated its row to raising awareness of the global refugee crises. On the morning of day nine, more than 600 miles into the journey, Team O2 was hit by 45-knot winds and 26-foot waves that capsized the boat, which did not self-right as it was supposed to do.

What followed was 13 tumultuous hours of the crew being deserted, afraid and constantly battered by rough seas in a barely inflated life raft. They were ultimately rescued by a cargo vessel that rerouted to respond to their mayday. 

Cinema Libre Studio says the film includes “jaw-dropping, you-are-there footage” of this ordeal, narrated by the people who lived it.

Omar Nour is an entrepreneur and retired professional triathlete. He represented Egypt on the Olympic triathlon circuit from 2010-17. He co-founded Ventum, a performance bike company, and Enduro Supply, which distributes sports brands across the Middle East.

Omar Samra is an adventurer, mountaineer, entrepreneur and inspirational speaker. He was the first Egyptian to climb Mount Everest and the seven summits, and to ski to both the geographic South and North Poles.

Beyond the Raging Sea is written and directed by Marco Orsini, with original music composed by George Acogny. Orsini is founder of the International Emerging Talent Film Association. His award-winning films and scripts have been translated into many languages, including French, Japanese, Arabic, Italian, Mandarin and Spanish.

Is this film a first for Cinema Libre Studio? Not by a long shot. The studio has released more than 200 films. Some of its newer offerings include the documentary Creating Woodstock, about the 1969 rock ’n’ roll event; The Great Postal Heist, which goes inside the U.S. Postal Service and features political activist Ralph Nader; and Land of the Little Rivers, which is about a network of tributaries in New York’s Catskill Mountains that are a mecca for fly-fishermen from all around the world.

Where to learn more: click over to cinemalibrestudio.com.

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The three men who authorities believe hijacked a catamaran in the Caribbean and tossed the American passengers overboard will be deported from St. Vincent following a judge’s order Monday, The Associated Press reported. 

Trevon Roberston, a 19-year-old unemployed man; Abita Stanislaus, a 25-year-old farmer; and Ron Mitchell, a 30-year-old sailor; appeared in a St. Vincent court Monday after the three pleaded guilty to immigration charges. The men will be sent back to Grenada “as soon as practicable,” Senior Magistrate Colin John ordered, according to the AP. 

The three men had escaped from police custody in Grenada on Feb. 18 and are accused of hijacking Simplicity, a sailing catamaran owned by Ralph Hendry and Kathy Brandel. Authorities announced the couple is presumed dead. 

The bodies of Hendry and Brandel haven’t been recovered. The men haven’t been charged in the couple’s deaths but instead faced immigration-related charges for illegally entering St. Vincent. 

The couple, experienced sailors, were on their final voyage with the Salty Dawg Sailing Association when it “took an unthinkable turn as Simplicity was found abandoned in St. Vincent, bearing chilling evidence of a violent struggle,” said a GoFundMe created for the couple’s family. 

Evidence discovered aboard Simplicity suggests there were “acts of violence,” police said. Investigators found what is believed to be blood on the boat. 
The couple’s children, Nick Buro and Bryan Hendry, said in a statement they remain optimistic in the search for their parents, who “lived a life that most of us can only dream of, sailing the eastern coast of the United States, living on their home Simplicity, making friends with everyone they encountered, singing, dancing and laughing with friends and family.”

The post St. Vincent Court Orders Deportation For Hijacking Suspects appeared first on Cruising World.

Caribbean authorities on Monday announced that an American couple sailing the Caribbean on their 48-foot St. Francis catamaran, Simplicity, were presumed dead after police say their boat was hijacked by escaped prisoners from Grenada. 

Royal St. Vincent and the Grenadines Police Force spokesman Junior Simmons said during a news conference that Ralph Hendry and Kathy Brandel are presumed dead after the couple’s disappearance. Simmons said authorities believe the couple was aboard their boat Simplicity when it was hijacked by three men accused of escaping police custody the day before. Their bodies haven’t been recovered as of Thursday afternoon.

The couple, experienced sailors, were on their final voyage with the Salty Dawg Sailing Association when it “took an unthinkable turn as Simplicity was found abandoned in St. Vincent, bearing chilling evidence of a violent struggle,” said a GoFundMe created for the couple’s family. 

Men accused of hijacking boat after escaping custody 

Grenada’s Police Commissioner Don McKenzie said Monday during a news conference that Trevon Robertson, 19, Abita Stanislaus, 25, and Ron Mitchell, 30, escaped custody at South St. George Police Station on Feb. 18. 

The escapees are accused of hijacking the Simplicity on Feb. 19. The boat was moored at Grand Anse, which is near the police station. While traveling to St. Vincent and the Grenadines from Grenada, “they disposed of the occupants,” police said. The men haven’t been charged in the couple’s disappearance. 

The men were later captured by St. Vincent authorities and were charged with immigration-related charges, to which they pleaded guilty. They are scheduled to appear in court Monday for sentencing. 

Evidence discovered on the Simplicity suggests there were “acts of violence,” Simmons said. Investigators found what is believed to be blood on the boat, and items were strewn around. 

Roberston, Stanislaus and Mitchell were charged last year with one count of robbery with violence. Mitchell also faced rape charges, authorities said. 

Children cling to hope

The couple’s children, Nick Buro and Bryan Hendry, said in a statement Tuesday they remain optimistic in the search for their parents, who “lived a life that most of us can only dream of, sailing the eastern coast of the United States, living on their home Simplicity, making friends with everyone they encountered, singing, dancing and laughing with friends and family.”

Buro and Hendry said they were coordinating with the United States Embassy, American officials and the governments of St. Vincent and Grenada.

“While the end of their life may have been dark, they brought light, and that light will never be extinguished from the hearts and minds of the people who knew, loved and cared so deeply about them,” the children said. 

Hendry and Buro said in a Saturday statement they “applaud the St. Vincent authorities for their quick actions in securing Simplicity and their brave, swift response that led to the apprehension of three dangerous fugitives.”

Simplicity discovered by ‘good Samaritan’

The Salty Dawg Sailing Association, an educational nonprofit based in Rhode Island, said in a Feb. 22 statement that Executive Director Tatja Hopman learned the Simplicity was found anchored and abandoned on a St. Vincent beach. 

A “good Samaritan” boarded the boat and discovered evidence of violence. Longtime SDSA members Hendry and Brandel had sailed the boat in the 2023 Caribbean Rally from Hampton, Virginia, to Antigua. The couple decided to spend the winter cruising the Caribbean, the association said. 

The association has a tracking map where they can follow members’ boats. Simplicity’s tracking information shows that the boat was anchored in Grenada before sailing to its last anchorage in St. Vincent, the association said. 

“I have spoken to the families and have offered our deepest condolences and our assistance in any way possible,” said SDSA President Bob Osborn. “In all my years of cruising the Caribbean, I have never heard of anything like this.”

UPDATE: Grenadines Boat Hijacking Suspects Charged with Murder

The post What To Know About Missing US Couple Sailing Caribbean appeared first on Cruising World.

I upgraded from Second Wind, a 35-foot Bavaria Cruiser, to Beckon, a 39-foot Jeanneau Sun Odyssey 39i Performance, in anticipation of cruising the Caribbean for a year or more. My home base is Puerto Rico, and Beckon was in Southwest Harbor, almost as far north in Maine for sailing as you can get. My friend and Jeanneau broker, Francis Shiman-Hackett of Bluenose Yachts, enticed me to sail the coast of New England for the summer, then head south in November after the hurricane season. 

Little did I know that I wouldn’t even get out of Maine before learning some important lessons about being careful and resourceful as a ­singlehanded cruiser. 

I departed just after Memorial Day under an unusually bold, sunny sky, with flat seas and scant wind. The mild conditions allowed me to work out the kinks of sailing a new boat. Beckon has electric winches, a self-flaking system, a sizable forward cabin with stowage, and solid navigation instruments. It has a taller mast and longer keel, which gave it the performance designation. All of this was great for me as a solo sailor.

There was not another ­sailboat to be seen on the 14-nautical-mile motorsail to lovely and protected Swan’s Island, where I picked up a mooring ball, as well as a lobster for dinner from the Fisherman’s Co-Op. The next morning, I motorsailed southwest against a prevailing but mild southwest wind, intending to anchor in Long Cove on Isle Au Haut for the night.

Because it was a cold, cloudy day with little to do on anchor, I pushed past the island and bypassed Vinalhaven Island, seeking a mooring at Tenants Harbor, which is full of lobster boats. By midafternoon, I calculated that I would reach the harbor at dusk—not ideal for an unfamiliar anchorage. My new plan became Home Harbor, located between Pleasant Island to the south and Hewett Island to the northeast, reachable with daylight hours to spare. It’s more of a bay than a harbor, and it’s protected from southwest winds, but the Hewett Rocks ledge was directly in my course heading. I sailed past the rocks at midtide, and a late-afternoon sun peeking out of the clouds illuminated their rugged ­beauty and dangerousness.  

Once inside the tranquil bay, I dropped anchor in 16 feet of water. I am used to the sand bottom of Caribbean anchorages with no tidal range, so I tested my setting twice with hard bursts in reverse. I felt confident that I was securely set. The water was glass, the air was crisp, there was no movement to the boat, the late afternoon sun was bright, and the panoramic background was dramatic, with pink and white clouds ringing the horizon. Smooth and jagged rocks formed the shore. I thought that I would sleep safely and securely, and saw no need to use an anchor alarm. After dinner, I fell hard asleep in my V-berth.

At 1:30 a.m., I heard the screech of my carbon-monoxide alarm. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of my anchor dragging—not an occasional drag, but instead a constant, loud stuttering. I donned my cold-weather jacket and pants, turned on my navigation instruments, and raced up the companionway shoeless. 

I was stunned to find myself in pea-soup fog and air full of cold, thick mist in pitch-black darkness. I could not tell where I was, but my depth sounder showed 16 feet. I felt temporarily relieved, deducing that I could not have dragged far. 

Then I heard the water sway against what I thought was the rocky shore of Pleasant Island. I went below and grabbed my high-powered spotlight. It only emphasized the cold-water mist. Visibility was mere feet. I could see neither land nor shore, though I kept scanning 360 degrees. 

I went below again, this time to fetch Navionics on my iPad. I could not find my location in the bay. I moved the chart in a circle to find my position, and I was horrified to find that Beckon was within feet of Hewett Rocks, the very ledge I had avoided the previous afternoon. I had drifted some 300 yards. I kept scanning with my light and finally saw the jagged rocks within feet off the port side of Beckon.  

With keys already in the ignition, I fired up the engine. I went below to turn on my windlass, leaped back up the companionway, and walked forward on my starboard side deck, one hand holding the light and the other holding the lifelines. I did not take my thumb off the windlass remote until the anchor violently shook in its cradle. 

Navionics seemed to suggest that Beckon was parallel to the rocks. I did not know whether to go in forward or reverse, but I needed to make a quick decision. With one hand on the wheel and the other holding my light, I chose reverse. 

The question then became: How do I get back to the anchorage? After I reached sufficient depth, I took the protective cap off my binnacle compass. I stayed in reverse until I felt comfortable that I was a fair distance from Hewett Rocks, then I put Beckon in forward.

Slowly, I tried to connect the compass heading with the red arrow on Navionics. I could see nothing in the fog and darkness, but I knew that my only impediment to reaching the anchorage was a handful of lobster buoys.  

There is a lag in the ­movement of the arrow on the screen following a course change with the wheel of the boat. During daylight, it becomes a part of how you drive, but in darkness, it was an almost insurmountable barrier. I tried to go southwest, but I continually overcorrected and was heading in a circle back to Hewett Rocks. More reverse. I did this several times before I started getting the hang of how to navigate by compass in the dark.

I was horrified to find that Beckon was within feet of Hewett Rocks, the very ledge I had avoided the previous afternoon. I had drifted some 300 yards.  

Still, I seemed to be going in circles. I was trying to drive to the middle of the bay, but I found only the northern part, too close to the rocky shoreline. It took me the better part of an hour to find the middle. With my light, I kept seeing the same two orange-and-white lobster buoys, sometimes to port, other times to starboard. I thought that if I woke the residents of the nearby homes, they would think a crazy sailor was doing doughnuts in the bay in reverse with a searchlight.  

I dropped anchor in the southeast corner of the harbor, very close to the shore. I could see the outline of the rocks with my light and thought that I was perhaps 20 feet from land. I weighed anchor and tried again, finally closer to the ­middle of the bay, and right next to the orange-and-white buoys. How I did not drive over any lobster buoys was beyond me.  

My anchor did not set well. I dragged, but I was in a decent location. Fifth time’s the charm, I told myself. Exhausted, I decided simply to watch it. 

I went below and looked at my phone. It was 3 a.m. I had to laugh at myself—I had narrowly avoided disaster on Day Two of my journey. But I had done it, and done it on my own. I briefly thought about making coffee; instead, with my jacket and wet clothes on, and with frozen feet, I collapsed in my V-berth, face up.

It did not hit me until I woke, when I looked at the chart again, that after my anchor dislodged, I drifted over 49 feet of water depth. My anchor reset, to a degree, in 16 feet of depth next to Hewett Rocks, all while I was sleeping soundly. Was I within minutes or more of crashing against the rocks? And why had the carbon-monoxide alarm triggered? Perhaps it was something divine or a warning from the universe.  

The obvious lessons from this experience are to let out sufficient rode and to account for the tidal range. In that part of Maine, the tidal range is 10 feet. Sixteen feet at midtide, when I arrived, meant that high tide would mean at least 21 feet of depth, which requires a quite different calculation on anchor scope.  

I was seduced by the beauty and serenity of that bay. In coastal Maine, conditions can change in minutes, and fog can roll in like a sandstorm without warning or forecast. So, set an anchor alarm, no matter the initial conditions. A captain I met on Mount Desert Island suggested keeping the GPS on and waking yourself at midnight to check your position. Had I done so, I could have seen my tracks and followed them back.

Overall, if you are going to cruise solo, be ready to rescue yourself. Another sailor would have navigated the compass and chart plotter in the dark much more effectively than I did. 

The morning after my almost disaster, and after the heaviest of the fog had lifted, I motored the 6 nautical miles to Tenants Harbor and saw only the occasional lobster boat. I picked up a mooring ball and slept like a rock that night.  

In the early-morning hours, my carbon-monoxide alarm shouted at me again. The illusion of a divinely inspired intervention disappeared like burned-off fog. I ventilated the salon, reset the alarm, and went back to sleep.  

The final lesson learned is to keep the batteries in your carbon-monoxide alarm up to date. That alarm can save you in more ways than one.

Damian LaPlaca is currently in Puerto Rico aboard his Jeanneau Sun Odyssey 39i Performance, Beckon.

The post The Dos and Don’ts of Anchoring In a Tidal Zone appeared first on Cruising World.

The next time you—heaven forbid—need to call Sea Tow, rest assured that there’s a good chance your rescue boat will be ready to roll with the latest vessel tracking and monitoring technology on the seas. 

Radian systems support risk management from the perspective of real-time alerts for low voltage and bilge pumps running. This was deemed especially useful for Sea Tow franchise owners when their boats are tied to the dock, unmanned and not servicing customers. With the Radian systems, franchisees can keep ahead of the curve by ensuring their boats are operational and ready to go when a boater calls for assistance. Radian systems can set alerts for location via geofencing and speed limits which helps franchise owners ensure their boats are operated in the safest and most economical RPM range for fuel burn, response and patrol speeds. 

Currently, there are numerous Sea Tow franchises, including Sea Tow Tampa Bay, Sea Tow Central Florida Lakes and Sea Tow Hampton Roads, using Radian, and many others are currently working to get Radian set up on their boats. 

Additionally, Radian has embedded a “Call Sea Tow” button in its IQ+ mobile app for consumers, making it simple for boaters who use Radian devices to contact Sea Tow for on-water assistance.  

“We are very excited to partner with Sea Tow to offer Radian’s industry-leading platform that connects Sea Tow Franchisees with their customers,” said Joe Czarnecky, Radian CEO. “With our technology, Sea Tow will know if a boat is underway, has a dead battery, or has a continuously running bilge pump. Sea Tow Franchisees can follow the speed and direction of travel preceding a disabling event to form a rescue plan in advance of their arrival. Since the best way to avoid a tow is to know the health of the vessel before casting off, Radian’s low voltage and bilge high-water alarms will help participating Sea Tow members remotely see issues in advance. Everyone wins here.”

“Sea Tow has long recognized the benefits of utilizing technology to provide franchise owners with the peace of mind they deserve,” said Sea Tow President Kristen Frohnhoefer. “With Radian, Sea Tow franchise owners will be able to see relevant information regarding their boats. This solid tracking and monitoring solution will help them improve operational efficiencies in a cost-effective way.”

Equipping boats with an IP67 waterproof Radian device is a simple process that can be handled by the Sea Tow franchise owners themselves. There are no external antennas or sophisticated wiring required. Both, the Radian M2 and the CAN-BUS-connected Radian M3 devices have long-life internal batteries, that take over reporting responsibilities when the boat’s batteries drop below an operable voltage. By connecting with the boats NEMA 2000 and CAN communication buses, the M3 device allows the engine and onboard electronics data to be captured and reported with each transmission to the Radian platform.

The post Sea Tow Selects Radian for Vessel Tracking and Monitoring appeared first on Cruising World.

Inspecting the condition of your rigging is an important step in safe-passage preparation, so going aloft is—or should be—on the maintenance shortlist of many cruisers. Does that sound like a glorious opportunity to gaze at your boat from an eagle’s-eye view or a nerve-racking ascent to avoid (or get over with as quickly as possible)? Maybe the reaction is, “Hell no, that’s a job for a rigger!” However you feel about going aloft, cruisers should be familiar with safe practices for ascending their boat’s mast(s). Here are some tips for doing it well.

Safety first

Going up the mast is serious business that requires good, proven equipment, safe practices, and an eye to knowing when not to defy gravity. If you question any of the safety checks described here, make a plan and go aloft only after addressing them.

Overview

Because humans are clever, there are a surprising number of ways to ascend toward the stars on a sailboat, such as sitting in a bosun’s chair, dangling in a harness, or climbing mast steps, whether solo or with a winch buddy. There is no best approach, just the one that works for you.

Make a plan

If doing a solo ascent, anticipate the necessary tools so you don’t have add a trip for that missing screwdriver. When assisted, discuss if you will inspect things on the way up or down, communication protocol, and line-handling technique.

What tools will you need, and how will you carry them? Items should be accessible and safely stowed. Jamie has a canvas bucket that slings onto the side of the bosun’s chair; it holds enough without being too deep to reach items easily. If you don’t usually put keepers on your sunglasses or eyeglasses, this is a good time to do so. Remember that even a small item dropped from aloft can have a much greater impact below. Crew on deck should stay away from the mast base when not actively raising or lowering the aloft person.

Unambiguous communication

Does stop mean soonish or, “My knee jammed between shrouds, and I will bleed if hoisted 1 millimeter farther”? Talk through the steps you plan to take. Will you stop at spreaders on the way up, the way down, or both? 

Assume you will not be able to hear each other without aid. If you have wireless headsets (called “marriage savers”) for anchoring, such as Bluetooth Sena headsets or 1.9 GHz Eartec headsets, this is a perfect additional use. A clipped-on handheld VHF on an unused channel is another option. Or simple earbuds or a headset and a phone are an easy hands-free alternative. There are even apps you can use to connect 1-to-1 without internet, such as by using NFC or your boat’s network. 

Good gear

Start with the device between the human and hoist mechanism. If using a harness, is it in good condition and at least reasonably comfortable? Same if it’s a bosun’s chair. Check that the mast steps aren’t corroded, the halyard isn’t chafed or UV-damaged, the winch is working well, and the rope clutch securely holds the line under load. Note that a winch self-tailing mechanism alone is not enough to secure a person aloft. We know of a fatality when the halyard slipped from a self-tailer and the rope clutch did not engage.

Lift mechanism

Use halyards or a boom topping lift, but not a spinnaker halyard (or other external halyards) as the primary hoist; it’s OK to use these as backup safety lines. Spinnaker halyards run through hanging external blocks, adding greater risk for failure. 

When Totem was in the Seychelles, new cruising friends asked for help after discovering a couple of broken wire strands on their 55-foot monohull and hired Jamie to inspect the rigging.  He was inclined to go up the mast—barely inclined, thanks to a sloppy anchorage and gusty trade winds. As Jamie started rigging the bosun’s chair, the owner grabbed the spinnaker halyard as the primary hoist for the ride up. Jamie said, “No, I don’t go up on spinnaker halyards.” The owner pleaded, and the wind blew too much to drop the furled main and headsail, so Jamie acquiesced. Upon reaching the masthead, the first thing Jamie checked was the external spinnaker halyard block—and he found a crack in the shackle. Next was the fastest controlled descent possible.

Make sure the halyard(s) are in good condition. If the halyard does not pass through a rope clutch, you must secure the tail to a cleat after the winch. A second halyard (with an additional person to tail it) acts as a safety line, just in case. 

Don’t use halyard shackles; they can fail, leading to catastrophe. Instead, tie halyards with a bow line. Consider bringing up a safety tether to clip to the mast if working at one spot for a while.

Test!

Before ascending, do a shock-load test. It’s free, easy and really good piece of mind. If going up in a chair or harness, hoist your ride a few feet above the deck, then bounce. Really throw your weight down into it. You want to check the shock load from a safe height, not one that can break bones or do neurological damage.

Electric winch?

No. Well, it’s hard to make this choice when push-button power is an option, as it turns out to be a lot of work to haul someone up the mast. But electric winches are powerful, and very bad things can happen very quickly. Power-winch accidents in hoisting scenarios have resulted in the loss of fingers and limbs. There is also the risk of not stopping at the masthead in time, so the trusty bow line jams or gets pulled into the halyard sheave. That can cause the line to fail, which is easier than you might think because electric winches work so quickly and powerfully. Clear, unambiguous communication with your partner becomes even more important. If you do go up with the power winch, the winch operator must use extreme caution.

Going up!

Take pictures while you’re up there. No, it’s not just to show how cool you look at the masthead. Get a lot of photos of the rig, both zoomed in (in focus) and panned for context. You might also find something unexpected to capture and examine later. Reviewing photos offers another opportunity to rig-check after the climb and spot things you might have missed.

Descend safely

Gravity is your friend—and your foe. It will make lowering you easier, but the ride down can feel uncomfortably jerky. To reduce jerkiness, the deck support crew should ease the line smoothly in 3-  to  4-inch sections rather than small increments. Be sure the eased halyard has a fair lead to the winch so there is no chance the line can jump over the end of the winch. 

The other contributing element for a smoother ride is being mindful of the number of wraps around a winch—too many, and it won’t ease smoothly. Usually, two wraps provide enough friction to hold the person’s weight while still letting the line slide around the winch as needed. If the weight feels like too much to hold easily, then add another wrap.

Remember that returning to deck level is more dangerous because the self-tailer and rope clutch are not used when easing.

The easiest inspection

Does it need to be said? It’s a lot safer and easier to inspect your rig components when they’re lying on sawhorses at ground level and not in the boat. This is the current state of Totem’s equipment, although we hope to have it back up again soon. We’re counting down to the boat’s splash…and sailing to Puerto Vallarta in December!

The post Sailing Totem: Safely Going Up the Mast appeared first on Cruising World.

Steve Brown knows a thing or two about heavy weather. Throughout his sailing career, Brown and his wife, Trish, took on a four-year circumnavigation aboard their Oyster 56, Curious, sailed a 30,000-mile circumnavigation of the Americas—sailing north from Camden, Maine, and then an east-to-west transit of the Northwest Passage—and spent more than his fair share of time in the Southern Ocean. 

Brown is up for debating the superlatively inhospitable places on Earth. 

“Southern Georgia, in the South Atlantic, is the most unforgiving place I’ve ever sailed,” he says. “Although there was this one time, coming up the Le Mer Strait between Staten Island and Tierra Del Fuego.” 

The sailing was the fault of his ­mountaineering interests, he claims, and he originally took to the sea for adventure. He followed in the footsteps of mountaineer-sailor Bill Tilman, and decided he needed to learn how to sail in order to “fill in the blanks on the map.”

A starter dinghy was followed by a Furia 44, and then by the circumnavigation in the Oyster 56. When he bought the AeroRig Bestevaer 60C Novara, an aluminum-hull schooner designed as a research vessel, the expeditions stepped up a notch. 

Along the way, there’s been brash ice and icebergs, rogue waves and drogues, penguins and polar bears. He’s a sailor who’s had the real-life experience of switching from gale-force storm management to survival tactics after conditions transcend control. 

His current role is as mentor and ice ­pilot as Novara pursues a multiyear mission in the Caribbean working with coastal communities to educate and ­combat climate change, followed by a planned 2025 Northwest Passage.

Know Your Boat

Brown’s first piece of advice on heavy-weather management, offered during the Cruising Club of America’s 2022 seminar in Newport, Rhode Island, was: “Don’t go out in it,” but there were a few more lessons shared.

“Take your boat apart from stem to stern and know every inch of it,” Brown told me during a recent call. “If you’re going to be far from marinas and chandleries, ask yourself: If it breaks, can I live without it? Can I fix it? If you can’t live without or fix it, then you need a spare.

“When I prepared the boat in Camden for the 2014 Northwest Passage, I spent two and a half months for 15 hours a day on Novara getting to understand it and stripping it from stem to stern,” he says.

If you look at what Randal Reeves did, Brown said, in Reeves’ preparation for the Figure 8 Voyage of the Americas, he took that boat to pieces. “If you’re going to do something that demanding,” Brown says, “then you really have got to have gone through everything. If something goes wrong, then you’re not thinking, Oh, what can it be? You know, because you’ve taken the boat to pieces.”

Kirsten Neuschäfer, during her preparations for the 2022 Golden Globe Race, took apart her Cape George, Minnehaha, starting forward and finishing aft. 

“You’ve got to strip down everything and know it’s in good condition,” Brown said. “When you know every inch of your boat, you know the strengths and weaknesses of your rig, hull, and systems. You’re able to assess problems quickly and are prepared to come up with solutions. The one thing that I didn’t strip down on Novara was the steering system. It’s an incredibly complex system, and when we sought advice, we decided that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Unfortunately, moisture had built up on top of an exposed bearing. We got up as far as Newfoundland when the bearing broke.”

Be Prepared

Weather forecasts, man-overboard drills, storm sail management, a hot meal ready to go—each step you take in preparation gives you a greater chance of weathering a storm. Practice until you know what works for you, your boat and your crew. Make sure everyone knows the MOB drill and can perform each role.

Get regular weather forecasts that extend five to seven days out, of wind and seas. Remember, GRIB files have winds but not gusts or waves. Study the areas you plan to sail to familiarize yourself with the depths, sea bottom, landmasses and winds. All of these can play a role in wave size, windspeeds and wind directions.

If a low-pressure system is forecast in your area, study the wind directions and speeds. Try to avoid a blow by charting a safe course that minimizes your time in the path. If you can’t avoid the system, check equipment and chafe points, and remove solar panels before conditions deteriorate. As much as possible, attend to self-care: Get some sleep. Shower and clean up. Prepare meals and coffee. 

“Get the main down, and get it out of the way,” says Randall Reeves, one of Brown’s fellow CCA heavy-weather panelists. Reeves completed his record-breaking 2019 Figure 8 sail of the Americas aboard Moli, his 45-foot aluminum sloop, becoming the first person to sail solo and nonstop around the Americas. “I have two drogues on board, which I flake out and lash down on deck if a gale is in the forecast. I run what-if scenarios in my head and ask myself, What will I do?” 

Stormy Weather

What’s your plan if you are overwhelmed by wind or seas? 

As the wind builds, reef down, Brown says. Know beforehand what your sail plan is, and have your canvas ready. Know how to heave-to, and practice. And know how to manage your boat under hove-to conditions. 

Heaving-to is a fantastic survival tactic, and it’s the go-to method for high-latitude experts such as Skip Novak, Brown says, but it’s absolutely essential to test it out. His boat, Novara, is an AeroRig and can’t heave-to. “I experimented with possible methods, but with little success,” he says, “so we researched other ways to ride out a storm.” 

If the boat can no longer handle even the smallest of storm sails, take it down to bare poles. “We’ve had to do this only once, in 65 knots of wind off South Georgia,” Brown says. 

Heavy Weather Sailing, Eighth Edition, by Martin Thomas and Peter Bruce, has an excellent section on storm tactics, ­including shortening sail, heaving-to, ­running before the wind, and drogue devices. Brown’s advice is included in the book, and he has written several reports on the Jordan series drogue based on his experience and the experiences of other sailors who have deployed the JSD.

“If there’s one piece of kit you need to put on your boat, it’s a Jordan series drogue,” Brown says. During Novara’s 2017 passage from South Georgia to the Falklands, while the boat was running under bare poles, wind and seas built to unmanageable levels. The boat carried too much speed running down the waves and was susceptible to a knockdown if it turned up into the face of a wave, or a pitchpole. 

The drogue was ready on deck, lashed down, with the bridle in place, as wind and seas built. “We put it out off the stern, into 35 knots of wind,” Brown says. “Conditions worsened to 65 knots, with higher gusts and monstrous seas. The drogue slowed our speed, and we went below, and slept, ate and played cards for 48 hours. You need sea room to do this.”

His exchange with Neuschäfer before the 2022 Golden Globe Race focused on sizing her Jordan series drogue for her Cape George. Neuschäfer deployed the drogue during storm conditions off Cape Horn and held on for 12 hours.

While competing in the 2008 edition of the GGR, Susie Goodall deployed a Jordan series drogue off her Rustler 36 during a storm 2,000 nautical miles west of Cape Horn. The drogue’s rope gave way at the bridle as she battled 60 knots of wind and massive seas. Goodall pitchpoled, was dismasted, and was knocked unconscious. 

Although she survived and was ­rescued, her boat was a total loss. The JSD ­manufacturers, along with heavy-weather-­sailing experts, used her experience to update recommendations for drogue sizing, based on boat tonnage. The key is to research and know which drag devices are appropriate for your boat, and know how to use them.

There’s a fantastic database on drag devices that offers an exhaustive list of options, Brown says. “If you look closely at the list, you can see my favorite, the ‘Milk Churn.’ Who among us doesn’t have one milk churn you could lob?

The great thing about this is that there are firsthand narratives of sailors using all of these techniques. You can actually read about some guy who chucked a milk churn. It’s worth taking the time to read. People who have been through this have shared their experiences, or at least those who survived did.”

A Curry on the Shore of Antarctica

During a January 2018 passage from the Falkland Islands to the South Shetlands, after making 685 miles south in five days, Steve Brown and Novara’s crew studied the GRIB files showing winds building above 30 knots and the sea state worsening. 

“We changed course with the intention of running before the wind to Deception Island,” Brown says. Novara made a fast passage, but conditions rapidly deteriorated, with 45-knot winds, driving snow, and poor visibility. Ice and snow built on the rig, sails and deck. 

Using radar and charts, Novara was able to enter Neptune’s Bellows, the pass into Deception Island’s caldera, but AIS showed multiple boats already in the intended ­anchorage of Telefon Bay. In Brown’s words:

We went into sort of a second choice: Pendulum Cove. We needed to get into the lee and out of the wind. We came around a bend and, as we prepared to lower the anchor, we were hit by a 100-knot gust.

Novara was knocked down literally as we were preparing to drop the anchor. The blow washed the aft mainsheet over the side, and it wrapped around the prop. The boat popped right back up, which is amazing since we had the centerboard up and the rig was heavy with ice. But once the mainsheet wrapped the prop, all I could do was steer straight up the beach.

Fortunately, with volcanic soil, there’s almost no rocks inside Deception Island, and we just plowed a big furrow. Novara is very round with a big keelson, and the ­centerboard is inside the keelson, so we plowed up the beach and sat there. The wind was raging, it was snowing like crazy, and we’d blown the jib. We tried to tame it—the aft jib—which had broken free and shredded itself, but we couldn’t. So I just said to the boys, “OK, everybody down below.” And they asked, “Well, what happens now?”

“I’ll put the kettle on and make a chicken curry for tea,” I replied. And that’s exactly what I did. We were inside. We were sort of safe. We weren’t going anywhere. 

I made a big curry with all the trimmings, Naan bread, and everything, and we waited until conditions eased. Then we went out and had a look. 

Novara has a big cable, three big anchors and a lot of chain. I told the crew that we would drag ourselves off on the high tide. We’d gone aground almost at high tide, but there was another 20 centimeters of tide over the next three days, and Novara’s got lots of ground tackle. We have two big bow anchors, with 200 meters (656 feet) of bow chain, a stern anchor with another 60 meters (196 feet), and four shorelines with 100 meters (328 feet) each. The plan was to put out three anchors, connect them to our winches and, at the highest tide, pull ourselves off.

We had a plan. Everyone has a role. We know what we’re going to do. Everybody’s fine, and there’s confidence and optimism in the event. 

When you sail with a crew, you have to be aware of the strengths and weaknesses of the team you put together. When you’ve got a diverse team, you have to understand how best to keep them happy, how best to keep them fit, make sure they look after themselves. This starts before you leave the dock. That’s the biggie for me—understanding the boat, and if you’re sailing with crew, understanding the team that you’re working with. 

You need to make sure you have the trust of your crew. You don’t want a skipper running around like a chicken with his head cut off. You tell them not to worry. I’ll start cooking dinner and it will be all right. Cool heads will prevail in these situations.

You have to put the pieces of the jigsaw together, when it comes to crew, and if you’ve got one piece that doesn’t fit, then it makes life difficult. The thing is, by and large, you look for people who have that third dimension, who can cope in that extreme situation. The Antarctica crew were, without exception, experienced sailors.

On Deception Island, we were up on the beach. When anything like that happens, within the terms of the permit you receive to explore these places, you have to notify the authorities. I notified the UK coast guard, and they picked up the phone to the Chilean n­avy, and it was out of my hands. We could have gotten ourselves off the beach, absolutely no question. But the next thing you know, there was a Chilean navy ship coming down to rescue us. They sent the RIB over, and I went to see the captain on the ship, and he said: “We’ve come to rescue you. We’ll take the crew off, and we’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

I told him that I was not leaving my boat. I needed to get Novara off the beach. And he said, “I don’t have permission to do that.” Following approval, he agreed to pull us off the beach.

They had a massive winch on the ship. I mean it was huge, with a big reel of 4-inch-wide polypropylene line. We made a bridle, and they connected it to the back of the boat. The weight of the line alone pulled the boat off the beach. It wasn’t even tight. Novara was once again safely afloat. —TN

More Info

For information on the Novara One Planet mission, led by Nigel Jollands and Veronica Lysaght, and the multiyear, worldwide climate awareness project,
visit novara.world.

The post Wicked Weather: High Latitude Sailing Strategies appeared first on Cruising World.