After watching the speedy around-the-world racing yachts use elaborately named sails such as roller furling spinnakers, code zero and the like, I decided I should get one of these contraptions for my 32-foot daysailer, Whirlwind.

The asymmetrical spinnaker was wrapped around my roller furler. The concept—hoist it up and deploy—sounded simple until I tried it. Somehow, the sail didn’t unfurl evenly. When I furled it back up to try again, the sail twisted in one direction at the top of the mast and in the opposite direction at the bottom. That was the end of the spinnaker for the day.  

It took me an hour to unravel the mess back on land, but I was determined to make this work, and I tried again the next day. Same result.  

I then called Jud Smith, a sailmaker who I have raced with many times over the years. Jud asked, “Do you have paper and a pen to take notes?”   

He had seen this problem a lot on small boats. “I am going to send you a bag for your spinnaker,” he said. “Put the sail in the bag, attach the three corners and—when you are ready—pull it up. When you want to take down the sail, just lower it into the bag.”   

I had to laugh. Jud had ­suggested the longtime method of setting a spinnaker. I did not need to take any notes. And I haven’t had any problems since that call.

Spinnakers are beautiful sails. I recommend colorful patterns. A sail should send a message. Boats look good when flying a spinnaker. Setting spinnakers, staysails, and even gollywobblers (a sail used on schooners) gives a boat a boost in speed and lifts a crew’s spirits. 

But setting an extra sail takes preparation. The first step with a spinnaker is to pack it carefully so that it opens cleanly when you hoist it. I usually fold the sail on land by stretching it out, and putting the luff, leech and foot into the sail. The three corners are secured together, ready to attach to the halyard and sheets. Try to keep the sail dry so that it will fly better. A wet sail adds weight, and the sail will sag.

On a cruising boat, there is no hurry to setting a spinnaker. The priority is to be careful. During the America’s Cup 12-Meter era, our crew worked hard to get the spinnaker filled before the stern passed the turning mark. If all went well, we could set the sail in four seconds. (Sadly, America’s Cup yachts don’t even use spinnakers anymore, but that is a story for another day.) 

Ask every member of the crew to participate in the procedure. An important task is to hold the spinnaker bag and feed out the sail. Another crewmember hoists the halyard, and a third crewmember has the sheets in hand, ready for trimming.  

Don’t trim the sail until the head is all the way up. The helmsman needs to steer on a broad reach during the set so that the sail is blanketed behind the mainsail when it’s being hoisted. Once the sail is up, the trimmer can pull in the sheet as the helmsman steers the desired course. Presto: The sail fills, and the boat gains speed.

If the spinnaker wraps during the set, there are two solutions. The first is for the helmsman to sail a higher course, trying to get the sail to unwrap. If this doesn’t help in a few seconds, then the next step is to lower the sail and start again. 

Avoid cleating the spinnaker sheet. One crewmember needs to pay attention to the sail trim. A dialog with the helmsman is helpful. When sailing on a run, the trimmer can say that she is feeling more pressure in the sail, and the helmsman can sail a lower course. If the wind goes light, then the helmsman can head up a few degrees to accelerate.   

When it’s time to take down the sail, talk through the procedure with the crew. The sheets and halyard need to be flaked in long coils so that they can be eased without bunching up at the turning blocks. The helmsman needs to bear off to a broad reaching course so that the spinnaker is blanketed by the mainsail during the drop. The crew should be ready to gather the sail when the tack is eased and the halyard is lowered to the deck.

Spinnakers are beautiful sails.Setting one takes preparation. The first step is to pack it carefully so that it opens cleanly when you hoist it.

Again, try to keep the sail out of the water. Once the spinnaker is back on deck, take the time to fold the sail before putting it in the bag so that it will be ready to set. Clean up the lines so that everything is back in place for the next time you are ready to set the spinnaker.

Staysails are another nifty addition to a sail inventory. They are set between the mainsail and spinnaker or the headsail. A staysail will give a boat extra speed and often help balance the helm.  

Unlike the untidy ­experience I had with the rolling spinnaker, staysails are often set up with a roller and work well. The crew hoists the sail on a designated halyard. When the crew is ready, unroll the sail. 

It is important to set the staysail sheet so that the sail luffs evenly. If the sail luffs at the top of the sail first, then move the sheet lead forward. If it luffs at the lower end of the sail, then move the lead aft.  

For me, though, it’s a spinnaker that is an essential part of a sail inventory. Anytime you are sailing downwind, take a few moments and hoist it. Everyone on the boat will appreciate it.

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There are times when turning back while ocean sailing is the best choice, but those times are, hopefully, few and far between. I’ve turned back twice in the past four circumnavigations, and the figure seems about right for a well-prepared vessel attempting to cross an ocean during the correct weather pattern. 

However, turning back often isn’t about the boat or its prep. It’s about the soul of its skipper. 

There are good reasons to return to port: taking on ­water, for example, and ­having no way to remove ­water from your boat, or breaking a piece of your standing rigging, or having your self-steering gear fail. But do note that the first two reasons are strength and safety issues, while the third is a matter of basic seamanship.

If a couple is so fatigued by steering during their entire watch that they can’t eat, sleep or poop properly, they can quickly turn into numbskulls. Trust me on this. I’ve turned into a numbskull many times and almost made stupid decisions that cost our lives. Fatigue offshore is real, and it must be guarded against at all times. 

Take the story of one cruising couple I know. Back in 2000, they turned back to the Galapagos Islands with just 2,700 miles left to go to Fatu Hiva in French Polynesia. Only a fool would sail that vast distance with a Hurst transmission that was acting up, right? 

Perhaps.

Their boat was a typical 40-foot overloaded cruising vessel. Its boot top had been raised three times and needed a fourth. It had two heavy anchors forward and (because of the depth of Polynesian harbors versus Caribbean ones) 250 feet of brand-new 10 mm chain. 

Now, Galapagos is famous for its westbound currents. This particular year, the trade winds were piping up. The couple knew that their boat wasn’t a fast racer, but it always nobly completed the course. Then again, this was before the couple put the “tower of power” aft with the wind/gen, solar cells and radar. And added tankage for water and fuel. Oh, and doubled the amperage of the main battery bank. Plus, all the cruising supplies.

Thus, the two-day sleigh ride downwind and down-­current turned into a six-day slog to windward against wind and current, with the couple seasick and the hatches dogged tight in the tropics. 

Part of the problem was that their reefing system worked well off the wind, but it didn’t allow the mainsail to have enough foot tension in heavy airs upwind. They were dragging a balloon-shaped sail when they needed a flat one. 

But, hey, safety first, right? 

Alas, the Galapagos isn’t a great destination to have major mechanical work done on your boat. The couple were still in Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz, a few months later when all their cruising buddies were in Tahiti, partying their guts out at the (oh, what butt-shaking!) Heiva festival. The anchorage in Santa Cruz was rolly. The local officials smiled nicely as they put out their hands. The harbormaster shrugged and suggested that the couple sail to mainland Ecuador to get the work done, only 650 miles to windward. 

Eventually, the couple was so frustrated that they sailed directly to Tahiti without an engine, slapped in a new, preordered transmission, and then dashed for Nuku’alofa, Tonga, to catch the weather window down to New Zealand. There, for a ­combination of reasons, they sold the boat. 

Did they make the right choice turning back? I don’t know. What I do know is that 200 miles downwind ain’t 200 miles upwind in most overweight cruising vessels. When I later asked them how they enjoyed the Pacific, they asked: “Which part? The rushing part or the twiddling-our-thumbs part?” 

I can’t help but wonder if they would have felt differently if they’d just said, “Well, we don’t really need anything that Joshua Slocum didn’t have” and kept going. We’ll never know. 

About five years ago, other friends of ours left Maine on a 56-foot gold-plater bound for England but turned back after five days. Their hull was watertight, rig up, keel down, and the CD player still worked. But still, they turned back. 

Why? Their brand-new radar didn’t work, nor did their super-duper sophisticated watermaker or a couple of other new electronics. Water had, somehow, worked its way into the wiring that the shipyard had just installed. Oh, and there was a ­problem with the new lithium batteries—something about the system monitor. 

Luckily, the untouched starting battery still worked, but the most discouraging problem was a low-tech one. Their 8-year-old hatches, while totally watertight in ­vertical rain, leaked badly as the boat twisted in the boarding seas. The forepeak was awash. Even the skipper’s bunk was soggy. 

Now, because they’d left early in the season and had nearly unlimited funds, you’d think they’d have returned to the dock and hired an experienced marine electrician to sort things out. They didn’t. Instead, they returned to the dock and booked themselves into a coastal resort—never to mention their desire to go trans-Atlantic again, not that year or the next. 

Which is fine; they either got scared or didn’t enjoy it. And soon, some lucky sea gypsy might get a nice boat at an affordable price. But imagine if they had pulled into Bermuda and had a wonderful, exciting time while they casually dealt with their issues in between snorkeling trips to the reef. And then hopped to the Azores and, ultimately, wintered in the Mediterranean. 

The owner had expected, after all the money and time he’d spent, that every aspect of the cruise would go smoothly. But what he experienced was reality, not expectation. The marine environment is a harsh one for electronics, especially ­untested units that haven’t been through a shakedown. 

Turning back, in my humble experience, is often a worried captain turning his back on the trip and the dream. And we are nothing without our dreams. Of course, I wasn’t there and shouldn’t second-guess those folks who were. All I know is that I’ve crossed many oceans without any of the stuff they lacked, and I was happy to do it. 

Which brings us to the subject of fear. 

Fear is good. It helps keep us alive. And there’s no denying that being on a small boat on a large ocean can be scary. It’s true—we don’t have gills. 

But when it comes to fear offshore, 95 percent of the time, it’s blamed on the boat, yet boats don’t fear. Their skippers do. Their crews do. 

Fear is weird. I always go offshore with a storm trysail. I believe that many sailors bristle at the idea of buying such a wonderful, bulletproof, easy-to-set sail because they don’t want to acknowledge the fact that they might actually end up in weather that requires it.

And fear is contagious. I nip it in the bud whenever possible. Just one too-timid member of the crew can ruin the cruise for all. (I immediately assign jobs to the “we’re all gonna die” crewmember to see if I can make him too tired to stoke the fear in others.) 

Of course, I’m not saying that you should never turn back. As I’ve mentioned, I’ve turned back twice, and issued a mayday once. Am I proud of issuing that mayday? No. Did I do it lightly? No. Would I do it again? Yes. 

We were in heavy weather at night in the lower Caribbean during the 1970s, and the trade winds were howling into the high 20s and low 30s. I could see a freighter’s dim lights to leeward. I checked our main bilge. It was almost dry. We were under jib and jigger (­mizzen). Then we tacked. Within two minutes, our bilge alarm went off. I visually checked, and we had a lot of water in the main bilge. How could that be? I pumped it out, but it took a long time. 

I tasted the water. It was salt, not fresh. The best-case scenario would have been a water tank that burst. I stationed Carolyn forward and myself aft. I then shut off the sucking bilge pump to determine whether the leak was aft or forward. It was neither. And, two minutes later, we had another bilge full of water. 

There was a major point of water ingress in my boat somewhere, and my battery bank was in the engine compartment. 

A strong gust hit us, and we buried the leeward rail. We were held down like that for many minutes. And I could no longer see the freighter. 

Was our only chance of assistance or a radio relay to the US Coast Guard getting farther away with each passing minute? I called mayday. A local captain came back immediately. He was skippering an interisland freighter transiting from Venezuela. I gave him the pertinent information (from a little plastic card I kept by our VHF radio) and then asked him to stand by on Channel 16. He agreed. 

Once our trusty, extra-large submersible bilge pump sucked dry again, I had Carolyn switch it off while I shone a portable spotlight on the pump. It was immediately apparent to me that the pump was back-siphoning—sucking an inch and a half of raw seawater back into our bilge. 

I shut off the bilge pump’s seacock, confirmed that we were no longer sinking, and called back the West Indian fellow standing by on Channel 16 to cancel our emergency message. Actually, we repeatedly canceled it at five-minute intervals just to make sure, and we requested that the freighter (greater antenna height and, thus, greater range) do so as well. 

The truth is that most offshore ­passages that fail do so at the dock, with poor preparation. But most transoceanic voyages have a few surprises that are unfortunate and disconcerting. This is just the reality of cruising offshore. And the farther a person is from an emergency room, the more these surprises stand out in importance. 

If you want everything perfect—and all the conveniences of home—don’t go out there. And if, for some reason, the topic of abandoning ship or turning back comes up while offshore, the skipper should convey confidence and firmly tamp down such chatter. I’m a big, big ­believer in ­democracy ashore but not afloat. Somebody has to call the shots and bear the responsibility for the voyage, and that someone is the captain, not the greenest, most fearful lubber aboard. 

Not sure about this? Then consider the people from the 1979 Fastnet race who got into their life rafts, never to be seen again, while their vessels ultimately survived.

If there’s a semi-legitimate reason (or, more likely, reasons) to turn back, then ask yourself, What’s changed? Is it unneeded creature comforts? Or a real strength and safety issue? Tough out the former; respect the latter. 

And look deep within yourself. Are you fearful? If you are, is that fear warranted? If so, take logical, seamanlike steps to mitigate your circumstance. If not, take internal steps to mitigate your fear. In layman’s terms, chill, dude.

An adventurer should be brutally honest with himself or herself. There is no greater advantage in survival situations. Cowards really do die a thousand deaths. A brave man? Only one. 

Sailing offshore involves a certain amount of risk. It would be silly to deny that. But aboard a well-found vessel in the right ocean at the right time, that risk is acceptable if we don’t allow clips of Jaws to take up residence in our heads. 

Fatty Goodlander and his cottage-cheese stomach have been racing Lasers lately, with Carolyn in the dinghy at the finish line asking: “What happened? Did you get lost?”

Editor’s note: The views and opinions expressed in On Watch are those of the individual author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Cruising World. We welcome feedback and differing points of view, which can be directed to editor@cruisingworld.com.

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Sailing off-the-wind seems so simple: point the boat where you want to go, ease the sails out until they luff, trim them so they are full, and away you go. If your destination is on a reach, this is pretty much all you need to know. However, if your goal is somewhere dead downwind, it’s not quite so simple. In those cases, the fastest course is not necessarily in a straight line. It’s more important to optimize your performance and control downwind. You can do this in three modes.

Mode 1: Up to 12 knots

If you try to point straight downwind in less than 12 knots, you’ll find that you’re missing a key ingredient: apparent wind. All the wind that your boat is creating by moving forward is straight at you, effectively canceling the true wind. Ten knots of wind and five knots of speed yield five knots of apparent wind, the force that drives the boat. Your solution: give up on sailing straight downwind and head up. As the boat turns up and sails a closer angle to the wind, it will generate more apparent wind velocity. The lighter the wind, the further you’ll have to turn.

Ask any racing sailor and you’ll realize that the proper angle to sail downwind in less than 12 knots is somewhere between 135-145 degrees true wind angle (TWA). We use true wind angle because apparent wind angle (AWA) changes wildly with relatively small changes in true wind speed. In six knots of breeze at 140 TWA, the apparent wind angle might well be around ninety; at 10 knots, it might be at 120 AWA. The AWA is also a function of boat speed: light, fast boats pull their apparent wind much further forward, even though they may be sailing the same 140 TWA. TWA is the constant.

The seat-of-your-pants methodology is to head up until the sail starts to lift and fill, and you feel good pressure pulling on the sheet. If you bear off slowly and start to lose that pressure, you’ve gone too low. Keep a constant amount of pressure and you’ll find the optimum angle for a given velocity.

If your only sails are upwind headsails, you have a bit of a quandary. Their weight, size, and position (blocked off by the mainsail on a broad reach) make them less effective. The answer is an asymmetrical spinnaker, a sail designed for the job. If you’re going to make longer trips with plenty of downwind work (which is the way it should be!), there’s no substitute.

So in Mode 1 (less than 12 knots), use your asymmetrical and tack downwind at angles between 135 and 145 TWA, whatever allows you to keep sufficient pressure in the sail to fill. You’ll sail further than the straight line course, but the extra speed will more than make up for it.

Mode 2: 12-20 Knots

Once you have 12 knots, the game changes. Now you have enough wind to gradually head closer to dead downwind.

If you’re using an asymmetrical, you can start easing the sheet to sail at deeper angles. True wind angles of 150-160 will become possible, assuming the size and shape of your asymmetrical allows you to sail that deep (a smaller, flatter sail will not work at those angles). Some cruising multihulls use a symmetrical spinnaker tacked to either bow for their dead downwind mode.

If you’re restricted to working headsails, a whisker pole is the key. Poling the headsail out stabilizes the sail and allows you to go anywhere from dead downwind to 20-25 degrees higher. Without a pole, this is not possible. The good news is that modern, carbon whisker poles are dramatically lighter and easier to handle than their aluminum brethren of days gone by.

Mode 3: 20+ Knots

You can sail dead downwind with a poled out headsail in more than 20 knots, or with an asymmetrical at 150-160 TWA, until control becomes an issue. If the boat starts to roll to weather, an accidental jibe is a possibility. Then it’s time to head back up.

You want to make sure the wind is clearly on one side of the boat. With the wind straight behind you, the boat isn’t sure which way it wants to heel or which way it wants to go. Sea state affects this as well: the bigger the waves, the more the boat will roll if you try to sail dead downwind.

As you head up, get rid of the asymmetrical or whisker pole. Depending on the boat type and rig, there are a variety of sail combinations that might work. Regular working sails with a reef in the mainsail and/or a partially furled genoa — or, even better, a proper working jib — are a few options. On a monohull with a big foretriangle, using only the headsail might be a safe, balanced setup. On a cruising multihull, a reef mainsail and no headsail might be the ticket. The trick is to find balance, where the sail plan doesn’t cause the boat to round up.

With more than 20 knots, tack downwind for safety and control as opposed to speed. Just like in Mode 1, the best way is not a straight line

This cruising tip is courtesy of Quantum Sails.

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If you’re considering purchasing or chartering a catamaran, fret not about maneuvering. While a lack of keel(s), high freeboard, and the vessel’s light weight might seem daunting, the dual engines and twin-propeller configuration are powerful tools, even when space gets tight and wind and current present extra challenges. With judicious use of the throttles and a crew well trained in handling spring lines and fenders, maneuvering a cat in close quarters can be easy and efficient.

For beginners, the first trick is learning to forget the wheel and leave the rudders in a neutral position, at least initially. There’ll come a time when the rudders will be helpful, but save that until you’ve gathered enough experience. Because a cat’s twin propellers are so far apart, it’s simply not all that necessary to use the rudders; in fact, for skippers learning to drive cats, rudders may introduce an unnecessary dynamic.

The main principle one must grasp is that a cat can pivot, without moving forward or aft, in its own length. By advancing one throttle and reversing the other in equal measure, a cat will simply rotate on its centerline axis. When you apply greater and lesser power to the respective throttles, you will pivot from the side to which you’ve applied less power. For example, to pivot to port, use slightly less reverse power to your port engine, and slightly more forward power to your starboard engine. To pivot to starboard, do the opposite. Also, a cat can be operated at very slow speeds because you don’t need to create a flow over the rudders in order to turn. When it comes to cats, “Slow is pro.”

Remember that it’s usually best to reverse into a slip rather than come in bow first. This keeps the skipper nearer to the action and provides the opportunity, if things start going sideways, to simply power forward out of trouble.

Start slowly. Have an experienced cat driver take you off the dock for your first few departures, then pick a wide-open area in which to practice basic maneuvering. Use mooring balls (they’re softer than pilings or navigational marks) as aiming points, and start practicing. Learn to back onto the mooring, come alongside it, and pick it up; soon you’ll see how easy it is to accomplish these basic tasks. The more you practice, the higher your confidence level will soar. Once you’ve got the basics down, start performing those same exercises in wind and current to see how windage and sideslip affect your particular boat.

Next, try some basic docking maneuvers, starting with coming alongside or departing from a fuel dock. You’ll discover how a properly placed spring line and fenders, combined with careful use of the throttles, can bring you neatly alongside, even on a crowded dock. Now practice backing into a slip. While most cat drivers prefer, and some narrow dock spaces demand, that cats occupy the “face dock” at the end of a pier, there will be many marinas that have enough room to allow your beamy vessel to fit neatly into a slip.

Once these skills are mastered, try picking up a mooring and dropping the anchor. These maneuvers depend more on the crew than the driver. That’s because mooring and anchoring can be different on cats; the crew doesn’t stand at a pulpit but perches on a crossbeam, and from there may have to reach a long way for a mooring ball or deal with an anchor that’s mounted well aft of the bow. Here are some additional cat-handling tips for specific situations.

Docking Ins and Outs
Let’s say you’re approaching a dock to come portside to. Your first line ashore will be a spring that leads forward from your port quarter. Once you’re near the dock, put the port engine in slow reverse and the starboard engine in forward with slightly more throttle applied. This will place the boat close to the dock, and once the spring line is secured and tightened, it will hold you close and steady (with your engines still turning slightly) and allow you then to secure the bow and stern lines and the aft-leading spring lines.

Leaving a dock, use the same principles; apply them perhaps a little more aggressively if boats are parked forward and aft. Tied starboard to, first, place a fender or fenders as far aft on the starboard hull as possible. As the dock lines are cast off, apply more power in reverse to the port engine and less in forward on the starboard engine. This pivots the bows out; once they’re both well clear of the boat ahead, simply transition the port throttle into forward and drive away.

Backing into a Slip
As I said, I’m firmly convinced that backing a cat (or any other vessel, for that matter) into a slip is preferable to bringing it in bow first. On most cats, the steering station is centered or slightly aft, which translates into better visibility to the sides and behind you. It’s important to know how close your sterns are to the dock. It also gives you much better maneuverability and options when bailing out from a maneuver gone wrong: Instead of wrangling with which way to turn when making your escape—when reversing, many sailors have to think a little harder about which throttle to use to turn in the proper direction—you simply drive straight ahead, then decide which way to spin the boat.

In tight quarters, you can approach the slip in forward, then do a K-turn to position the sterns so they’re aiming at the slip with the cat parallel to the docks on either side. Apply reverse thrust on both engines to pull straight back. If necessary, you can apply forward throttle to either hull, as needed, to straighten the boat out as you’re entering the slip.

If there’s not a lot of space in the marina, you may want to enter the area already in reverse, then simply maneuver the sterns into the slip using the same principles described above.

Picking Up a Mooring
Cats sit best on moorings when the boats are equipped with a bridle rigged between the bows, the apex of which should be equidistant between the hulls. When the cat approaches the mooring ball, your crew should stand by equipped with a long boathook and with the bridle ready. As with any boat, a slow approach from as far downwind of the mooring as possible is ideal. Have a signaling system in place so the crew can tell you the distance from the mooring and whether you need to steer to port or starboard to line it up properly. Hand signals are best, and everyone should be on the same page so there’s no confusion. Again, slow speed is optimum, and you should be ready to stop forward motion quickly.

As with any boathandling technique, practice makes perfect. You won’t always dock or moor in benign conditions; once you have the basics down, keep practicing in more wind and current so you’re always familiar with how your boat behaves. A comfortable skipper is a calm and assured one.

Tony Bessinger is an instructor at Confident Captain/Ocean Pros in Newport, Rhode Island, and has thousands of miles of catamaran sailing experience, including a stint as a skipper of a Gunboat 62, and a 4,600-nautical-mile delivery of a Leopard 46 from Florida to California. He also drives high-speed ferry cats in southern New England.

The post How to Dock and Swing a Catamaran appeared first on Cruising World.

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NWSA conference

NWSA conference

NWSA conference

NWSA conference

NWSA conference

NWSA conference

NWSA conference

NWSA conference

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Captain Green Brett demonstrates how to tie on a fender.

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Let’s Go Sailing

When I stepped aboard a sailboat for the very first time almost 15 years ago, I was amazed and overwhelmed by—well, everything. Putting a new vocabulary into practice, safely directing the boat to where you want to go, returning vessel and crew to the dock at the end of the day—these were only the early challenges. For sailors who are interested in heading offshore or on an extended cruise, the required skill set is large and varied: navigation, boat and engine maintenance, communications, weather prediction, route planning, provisioning—the list goes on.

In the days of yore, if a prospective cruiser wanted to gain skills in these areas, the choice was pretty much limited to the School of Hard Knocks. These days, fortunately, that’s not the only school available, and no matter where you’re starting from or what your goals are, you can find a sailing school that’s right for you.

Goal: Bareboat Charter
Many sailing schools offer a “learn-to-bareboat” type of class that can often take you from landlubber to sailor in a week. The classes are typically based on American Sailing Association or US Sailing plans of study and include basic sailing, coastal cruising, and bareboat-charter instruction. The coursework is usually quite intense because there’s plenty of ground to cover. Once a student has completed a course, testing for certification is an option.

Steve and Doris Colgate’s Offshore Sailing School has been perfecting this model for years, and their Fast Track to Cruising course is the school’s most popular. No experience is necessary to enroll in this course, and the first two days are spent learning to sail aboard a Colgate 26, the school’s training sailboat. Students then spend the next five days aboard a 43- to 50-foot monohull or cruising catamaran to cover the coursework in Basic Cruising and Bareboat Cruising. The real test, however, comes at the end of the week, when the students take the boat out for 24 hours without the instructor. “I really think the last day was my favorite part of the class,” says Offshore Sailing School student Tom Huntington. “The other two students and I took the boat out on our own, and we had to decide on an anchorage, make dinner aboard, reef the sails in bad weather, and understand the varying depths while navigating the Intracoastal Waterway. This really helped to solidify the previous four days of coursework.”

Photo: Courtesy of Offshore Sailing School

Florida Sailing & Cruising School, in North Fort Myers, Florida, offers something similar. “Since people are so short on time these days, our most popular course is the five-day class,” says owner Barb Hansen. “It’s an intensive course that takes students from the basic sailing course through the basic coastal-cruising level and finally ends with the bareboat-charter class. After they complete the course successfully, I also recommend that people start to charter or go out on boats with friends to get as much hands-on experience as possible.”

There’s plenty to consider when deciding which sailing school is right for you, including location, the boats used for instruction, and class size. “The top schools provide sufficient classroom time to understand sailing principles but maximize time on the water,” says Captain Dave Bello of Fair Wind Sailing School. “They also keep class size low to limit the student-to-instructor ratio.”

Photo: Fair Wind Sailing School

Be sure to keep your goals in mind when choosing a sailing school. If your immediate goal is to bareboat charter in the Virgin Islands, consider taking a course there on a boat similar to what you’d like to charter. If your goal is to go cruising on a catamaran or to improve your racing skills, there are courses for that, too.

Most sailing schools offer certifications from either US Sailing or the A.S.A. In general, charter companies in the United States and the Caribbean don’t require certification, but it may be required on your sailing résumé in other global destinations. “We ask customers to fill in a sailing résumé online, and we rate their ability,” says Josie Tucci of Sunsail. “However, bareboat certification such as A.S.A. 103/104 or Offshore’s Fast Track to Cruising and US Sailing’s Bareboat Certification will allow someone to charter from us, too.”

Photo: Courtesy of Sunsail

John Alofsin of J World adds, “What’s most important is to select a school and a course that will get you the real skills you need in order to daysail, charter, or cruise. If you want to go through the certification process during that course, great! But the piece of paper shouldn’t be the goal. When a charter company says, ‘Let’s go for a checkout sail,’ you should be very prepared for this.”

Some sailing schools also provide courses specifically for women, couples, or families. This might be a good option if you’re planning to cruise with your spouse or kids to give everyone a chance to learn to work as a team. Womanship, a sailing school based in Annapolis, Maryland, “brings women aboard to gain real skills and the confidence of proving to themselves, step by practical step, that they know what to do and when and—more important—why,” says owner Suzanne Pogell.

_ Photo: Fair Wind Sailing School_

For a real sailing confidence builder, never underestimate time in the saddle. “While courses are great,” says Mollie Hagar of Modern Sailing School, based in Sausalito, California, “it’s what you do between courses that make you a confident and competent sailor. It’s pretty easy to sail anywhere when you have an instructor on board. It’s when they’re not on board that a sailor’s confidence has room to grow.”

Goal: Bluewater Sailing
If you’re ready to bring it to the next level, consider taking a course that teaches the skills you’ll need for sailing down the coast or across an ocean.

These courses typically range from three- to four-day liveaboard classes for coastal cruising to a week or more for offshore passagemaking. These classes aren’t for novices, and if you’re seeking certification, most schools require that you have all the prerequisite coursework completed and/or significant time at the helm before taking the class.

“Often times, when a sailor has a lot of experience, they’re not interested in the certification as much as they’re interested in gaining advanced skills,” says Hagar.

If you’re climbing the certification ladder, advanced courses usually include some combination of coastal navigation, advanced coastal cruising, and celestial navigation, all of which you may be required to complete before taking an offshore-passagemaking certification course. These advanced courses introduce students to passage planning, navigation, night sailing, watchkeeping, provisioning, and sailing in adverse conditions.

Modern Sailing School conducts a program called Adventure Sailing that offers real, hands-on experience in such cruising destinations as the South Pacific and Southeast Asia in which students are involved in every aspect of the passage. “Our most advanced courses are taught on our overseas Adventure Sailing trips,” says Hagar. “And, you don’t need to be a total expert to go on an Adventure Sailing trip. I typically advise people to have basic skills, as this will make the trip much more rewarding, but a lifetime of experience isn’t required. Having said that, there are a few select trips that we do that include overnight passages. Students on these trips are expected to take a night watch and should have the foundational experience to do so.”

For 22 years, John Neal and Amanda Swan Neal have been offering offshore-passagemaking training through Mahina Expeditions. The courses are intense; they’re designed for experienced sailors who really want a taste of serious cruising before heading out on their own. “Our goal is to have our graduates, following the expedition, ready to circumnavigate on their own boats,” says John Neal. “Of the 1,100 graduates from our expeditions, each year we meet several out cruising the world on their own boats. That’s exciting!”

Goal: Fill in the Blanks
One of the things that most sailors love about sailing is that there’s always something more to learn. If there’s a specific area in which you need to improve—say, docking—then consider taking a skill-specific clinic or attending a seminar. Many schools offer classes and clinics covering such topics as spinnakers, sail repair, and anchoring.

In addition, you can usually find free seminars that are offered at boat shows throughout the year and periodically through such organizations as the Seven Seas Cruising Association.
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Click here to find out more about choosing a sailing school.

Offshore Sailing School founder Doris Colgate shares her tips for finding the best classes here.

The post Let’s Go Sailing! appeared first on Cruising World.

Towing with a tender

Although the modern marine engine has become very reliable, at some inopportune time, as with all mechanical devices, it may fail. Or you may find yourself in a position to help another sailor whose boat is disabled. Or you may find yourself becalmed in a less-than-ideal situation. Becoming proficient at the three primary towing configurations here will give you confidence that you can safely and efficiently handle these situations.

Much can be learned from professional seamen. Many of the finest boathandlers in the world are tugboat captains. The scale is different, but the techniques that they’ve developed for moving ships and barges are the same ones that cruising sailors use for towing and docking disabled boats.

Most sailboats today carry inflatable tenders with outboard motors of reasonable power to move the boat. A 10-foot inflatable tender with an 8-horsepower motor can easily maneuver a 50-foot boat in moderate conditions. In calm conditions, much less power will do the job. The first step is to have your tender, whether it’s a small inflatable or a hard dinghy, set up for the task. Inflatable tenders should be at their maximum recommended pressure. On our 11-foot inflatable RIB tender, we have 18 feet of 1/2-inch braided nylon for the bow line, several 12-foot lengths of 1/2-inch braided nylon that can be used as spring lines, a 5/8-inch braided nylon towing bridle with a stainless-steel snap on one end, and 100 feet of 5/8-inch braided nylon for the towline. The size and strength of the lines depend on the size and horsepower of the tender. Braided nylon makes a good choice because of its superior combination of strength, stretch, and chafe resistance. We also carry on board a sharp sheath knife should a line need to be cut in an emergency.

If the need arises (and it has), we can quickly hitch up and move a boat using any of these three configurations. When pushing or towing, always wear a life vest, preferably a work or sport style that’s comfortable and doesn’t inhibit movement.

The Side Tow, or On the Hip
The best method for short tows in calm to moderate conditions where you’ll be docking the boat and are unlikely to encounter large wakes from passing vessels is the side tow, known in the commercial world as “on the hip.” First decide which side of the boat you’ll put next to the dock, then hitch up on the other side. Set up fenders for the tender; secure them alongside as shown in Diagram 1. The tender should be as far aft as the boat’s shape allows.

Sailboats with long stern overhangs won’t allow you to hitch up as far aft, but if the tender’s motor is aft of the boat’s rudder, maneuverability will be adequate. Double-enders tow well on the hip as the tender is able to push nearer to the boat’s centerline. On the hip doesn’t work well with catamarans.

Lines should be snug and secured properly to cleats in such a way that they won’t bind. It’s very important to be able to release lines in a hurry if a large wake should approach or you need to rapidly reconfigure. If towing in limited visibility or where other boats may be operating, give a sécurité call on VHF 16 with your description, location, and intended course. The last thing you want to encounter is a big sport-fishing boat roaring by unaware of your situation. As you begin towing, be aware that because you’re off center, extreme leeway will develop. The helmsman will need to crab the boat to make good on your desired course. As a reasonable speed is attained, the boat’s underbody will get a better “grip” on the water, and holding course will become less difficult. Until close-in maneuvering is required, steering should be done with the boat. Oversteering with the tender will make holding a course difficult. If the tow is configured as in Diagram 1, rapid turns can easily be made to port. Turning to starboard will be much slower and have a large turning radius. If a rapid turn to starboard is required, put the tender in neutral or even in reverse, allowing the boat’s momentum to carry it through the turn. This ability to crab the boat will greatly facilitate coming dockside. The key is to plan ahead and to get a feeling for the boat’s forward momentum and your ability to control and stop it. Always “test the brakes” prior to docking. Approach the dock (see Diagram 2) at an angle of between 30 and 45 degrees, keeping the bow pointed at the midpoint of the space on the dock where you want to end up. You should maintain only enough speed for steerage. Just before the bow of the boat reaches the dock, put the tender in reverse. As the boat continues to slow and stop, the bow moves out and the stern pivots in. This is a very satisfying maneuver when done properly. If you have to back the boat into a slip, reconfigure as in Diagram 3. If docking in a strong current, always plan your approach and final maneuver so that you’re pushing into the current. It can be used to your advantage when crabbing into a tight spot.

Pushing from Astern
Pushing from astern is my preferred method for covering longer distances in moderate conditions when good control is required, as in a waterway or a harbor’s entrance channel. In Maine’s Penobscot Bay, many of the passenger schooners have no engines. The crew rely on their tenders, or yawlboats, to push them in and out of the harbor in calm conditions. They have become very skilled at handling these large and beautiful vessels in this manner.

Pushing the boat from astern, as in Diagram 4, is efficient because you’re pushing from the boat’s centerline, eliminating the need to crab. Depending on what type of stern your boat has, this method can be used in rougher conditions than the side tow. Some sailboats have extreme reverse or scoop transoms that make pushing awkward. Self-steering gear, boarding ladders, and stern-hung rudders can also preclude this method. It does work well for most boats, however.
As in all hitch-ups, ensure that lines are secured in a way that can easily and rapidly be unhitched or adjusted. The spring lines must be tight and well secured, as they carry a lot of strain when turning. The unexpected release of one of these lines when turning poses a danger to the tender operator, as the tender will quickly scoot to one side, possibly tripping and throwing the skipper overboard. Pushing should be steady, with the outboard centered. Most motors have steering dampers that can easily be adjusted. It’s worth setting it so that the motor doesn’t swing easily on its own.

As catamarans usually have twin engines, it’s less likely that you’ll ever need to tow a cat. But they can be pushed quite easily. (See Diagram 5.) It’s extremely important when pushing a cat to have the two bow push lines in good condition and well secured. The tender’s bow line acts as one of the lines. The other is attached to the same bow eye as the bow line. The lines should be attached as far aft as possible on the cat’s hulls. If one of these lines lets go when you’re pushing hard, the tender will scoot ahead under the stern deck, with a high likelihood of injury to the operator.

When pushing from astern or on the hip, if you have to stop the boat or maneuver quickly to avoid an obstacle faster than the boat’s forward momentum allows, use hard reverse and pivot the boat while the helmsman holds the rudder in opposition. The rapid turn will quickly slow and eventually stop the boat’s forward carry.

Towing Astern
Towing astern is the preferred method for longer tows, rougher conditions, or times when occasional large wakes may be encountered. This method requires the highest degree of skill, and it’s also perhaps the most dangerous if done improperly.

Good planning ahead of time with your crew is imperative, as communications won’t be as easy as they are when using the other methods. When towing, you won’t have a good line of sight to the helmsman, and the sound of the motor makes hearing difficult. Arrange some easily understood hand signals for stopping, slowing down, speeding up, change of direction, and the like. A handheld radio is helpful. Have the helmsman steer for the stern of the tender.

If the towed boat steers erratically or turns off in a different direction, it’ll cause the tender to go off course. In extreme cases, it can cause the tender to be overrun by the boat’s momentum as the tender struggles to stay in front or is swept alongside and aft, then swung stern-to as the boat surges ahead and the towline takes up.

When preparing to take the boat in tow, first rig your towing bridle. (See Diagram 6.) I clip the bridle on one transom eye, then run the line aft of the motor, securely attach my towline, then tie the bridle to the other eye. The bridle should be short enough to keep clear of the tender’s propeller but long enough to keep it clear of the motor. When the towline is centered and under load, it should form close to a 90-degree angle. I make sure that my towline is in several smaller coils and able to run free. Usually it’s best to approach the boat’s bow from leeward, then pass or toss the towline to the crew. I usually keep the bulk of the coil with me to lessen the risk of a foredeck tangle. Once the line is secure, maneuver ahead slowly and toss the remaining line astern.

As long as you’re moving forward, the line will stay clear of the tender’s propeller. As the slack comes out, ease ahead until the line grows taut. Depending on the conditions, I’d deploy 50 to 75 feet of towline to start. Gradually increase speed, and have the person on the bow adjust the towline so that the boats are in step, that is, both in the trough of the seas at the same time.

Towing out of step puts intermittent strain on the towline, as one boat surges down a wave while the other boat slows down climbing one. Having the towline properly secured is very important. If it comes loose or breaks a cleat, the loose end will slingshot toward the tender. The crew on the boat needs to keep an eye on the towline for signs of chafe and to ensure that the line remains secure.

Tugboats and purpose-built towboats are set up with towing bitts located forward of their rudders. This allows them to turn “under the tow” and maneuver. This can’t be done in a small inflatable, as the outboard motor is in the way. Attempting to tow from forward of the motor risks that the towline will catch on the motor’s cables and controls.

A technique that I’ve used when towing with boats that lack towing bitts or have outboards in the way involves using a sliding bridle. (See Diagram 7.) Anyone who’s attempted to tow a boat from off center knows that the towboat will rapidly be pulled sideways, and any attempt to get out in front means slacking the towline, trying to avoid getting it caught in the propeller, and starting over. With the sliding-bridle method, you attach the towline to a smooth stainless-steel ring or a seized shackle that can freely slide from side to side on the bridle. If one isn’t available, simply tie a bowline onto the bridle. When you first take a strain, the towline will go to center. Let’s say that you want to turn to port. Ease off on the throttle, but not so much that the line goes completely slack. Turn hard to port. As the tender’s stern goes to starboard, the towline slides to port. Take up the strain; when the tender is in the desired position and the towed boat is on the desired course, ease off, turn slightly to starboard, and throttle up to center the towline. This method served me well for many years when towing boats and floats at my boatyard.

In conclusion, I want to emphasize the importance of preparing and planning ahead for any of these maneuvers. Know the capabilities of the crew and tender, and take the time to practice. Good boathandling is a sign of good seamanship.
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Captain Earl MacKenzie, who holds a 500-ton Ocean Master license for power and sail, and his wife, Bonnie, run and operate_ Bonnie Lynn_, a U.S. Coast Guard-inspected brigantine rated for ocean service. To learn more about the MacKenzies, see “Bonnie Lynn: A Dream in Fast-Forward” (August 2000)._

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Bow Thrusters

I may have scoffed at the perceived need for a bow thruster when maneuvering in a small boat, but that’s only because I was jealous. The truth is, most of us head for the water to keep stress at bay, and bow thrusters are specifically designed to help us do just that. In fact, no other single piece of equipment will make it easier (and safer) to dock your boat in all conditions than a well-installed and properly sized bow thruster.

Whether you decide on a thruster that pushes water through a tunnel drilled through the bow, a retractable unit, or one of the various externally mounted thrusters, there are some basic facts that apply to them all.

First, it’s critical to choose the right size of thruster based on the length, displacement, and windage of your boat. Nearly all non-commercial thrusters are powered by electric motors, and available sizes range from small, 2-kilowatt units that provide enough thrust for boats in the 25- to 30-foot range (yes, it’s possible to get a thruster for your 25-footer) to 15-kilowatt units designed to push the bow of a 90-footer. Bow-thruster manufacturers and installers can offer valuable selection guidance and can usually provide a range of choices to meet your needs. The rule of thumb when making a selection? The more thrust, the better.
Second, since thrusters use leverage to push the bow around the boat’s pivot point, somewhere amidships, thruster efficiency increases as the unit is mounted deeper and farther forward on the bow. However, getting a thruster right near the bow and deep below the waterline can be a challenge on many sailboats with shallow bow sections.

The third universal fact is that all thrusters use a significant amount of power. Granted, the necessary power is usually required only in short bursts controlled by either a joystick or port/starboard buttons mounted near the helm, but it’s critical that the boat’s batteries and electrical system be beefy enough to withstand serious electrical demands. A properly sized thruster for a 45-foot sailboat can often gobble up 650 to 800 amps for short durations. On smaller boats, some thrusters can be powered from appropriately sized house batteries. Given the relatively short distance between the battery bank, usually by the engine, and the bow, voltage drop won’t be as significant as it is on bigger boats with necessarily longer cable lengths.

In all but the smallest boats, many manufacturers and installers recommend providing a dedicated battery and charging system for the bow thruster and, as often is the case, the windlass. This setup provides several benefits. First, it limits voltage drop from long power-cable runs since the power source can be mounted as close as possible to the unit, often within 18 inches. A dedicated battery will also ensure that if there’s a problem with these two high-power-draw units, the boat’s house batteries will be unaffected. And in some cases, a battery switch can be installed so the power from this dedicated battery can be available for other needs if there’s a problem with the house batteries.

The last thing you need to know is that all bow thrusters make some kind of noise when they’re in use. The culprit? Propeller cavitation, which occurs when the unit’s prop sucks in air as well as water. In the worst-case scenario, a thruster will make a grating, rocks-in-a-washing-machine noise, but if care is taken to locate the thruster as deep in the water as possible, this noise can be significantly reduced.

Those are the basics. Here, then, are the choices.

Tunnel Thrusters
Tunnel thrusters move the bow in the desired direction by propelling water through a tunnel that runs through the bow using one or two electric-powered propellers. Installing this type of thruster requires drilling a fairly big hole through the bow of your boat, but as long as the installation is completed correctly with the proper materials, the structural integrity and water tightness of the hull won’t be adversely affected.

Once you know how much thrust you’ll need, you’ll have to determine that there’s enough interior volume in the bow to accommodate the space that’ll be taken up by the tunnel and by the motor that mounts on top of it. On sailboats that don’t have adequate space for the tunnel well forward or a bow area with sufficient depth below the waterline, the tunnel may need to be mounted farther back, and the unit will have to be up-sized to compensate for the loss of leverage as a result of the location.

You’ll also need to make sure that there’s enough space in which to install the dedicated battery. But once the installation is complete, tunnel thrusters are simple to use. Their motors are kept dry inside the bow, their propellers are protected in the tunnel, and they’re always ready to use below the waterline.

And that brings up an interesting point. You’d think that having a tunnel bisecting the bow below the waterline would surely lead to increased drag when you’re sailing or powering at speed. But this can be minimized, provided that a small lip is faired into the leading edges of where the tunnel meets the hull and that a depression is created along the trailing edges. These divert the water away from the tunnel port, resulting only in an almost imperceptible increase in drag.
The one potential problem with this type of thruster installation is fouling, either with growth on the propeller or in the tunnel itself. Conventional antifouling paint works when it sloughs off as a boat moves through the water, but it’s not very effective in bow thruster tunnels. There are paints under development that could provide a better bow thruster antifouling, but for now, the best defense against a fouled tunnel thruster is to use it regularly to give the area a good flush.

Retracting Thrusters
Retracting thrusters deploy when needed and retract into a housing when not in use. Their benefits? In some cases, they can be used on boats that don’t have an ideal spot for a tunnel, and they often can be installed farther forward on the bow, while still being sufficiently deep when in use. Since they’re only in the water while you’re maneuvering under power and retract into the hull when not in use, these units don’t produce drag, and aren’t as susceptible to fouling by marine growth as tunnel thrusters.

But now for the bad news: A retractable unit will usually cost 20- to 30-percent more than a similarly sized tunnel unit. And since the whole unit needs to retract up into the boat, the internal area required in the bow to accommodate both the motor and the prop could impact the bunk and storage areas in the forward cabin versus a lower-profile tunnel unit that can often be mounted out of the way under the furniture.

External Thrusters
As more skippers (even owners of boats in the 20- to 30-foot range) see how a bow thruster can take some of the anxiety out of maneuvering in tight quarters, externally mounted units that are much easier to install, and are often less expensive than tunnel or retractable units, are becoming available. An external thruster usually doesn’t require significant structural work—drilling holes in the bow, glassing in a tunnel and the resulting extensive fairing—they simply bolt on to the bow below the waterline.

But lower cost and ease of installation require some compromises. First, since these units are simply bolted on to the bow, they may cause drag while under way, depending on their design. And since there’s always an unprotected unit protruding from the bow, they may catch and snag lines or other debris in the water, and the motor will be submerged constantly.

There are lots of bow-thruster options for big or small boats—and budgets. But no matter what type of bow thruster you choose, all will help improve tight-quarters boat handling and take the stress out of docking.

Bill Springer is CW_’s senior editor. He turned to Bill Jennings of New England Bow Thrusters , Tom Fleming of Lewmar Inc. , Mark Houle of Sideshift , and Marty Castle of Exturn when compiling this article._

Bow-Thruster Manufacturers
Exturn: (866) 996-7577, www.exturnusa.com
Lewmar Inc.: www.lewmar.com (log on for a dealer in your area)
MAX Power: +33 (4) 92 19 60 60, www.max-power.com
Quick Nautical Equipment: +39 0544 415061, www.quickitaly.com
RMC Marine: +46 (0) 31 28 32 40, www.rmcmarine.com
Side-Power (Imtra): (508) 995-7000, www.sidepower.com
Sideshift: (877) 325-4787,
www.sideshift.com
Vetus: www.vetus.com (log on for a dealer in your area)

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