First Pitchpole.
So Dirk and Cammie came up to help me work some kinks out of the rig (with extra hands) and to sail for the day. We got rid of the bogus extra trap rig, and rigged the remaining single trap rig in such a way as to be usable. Cammie got out on the wire a couple of times. We lubed up the rudder cams and installed the new fancy tiller that redherring got for me. It was totally sweet.
We spent about three and half or four hours on the water. Overall, it was kind of boring for the first part of the day, which is to say light winds. Things were picking up as the day wore on though. Much like in skiing, I suggested around 3:30pm, "hey, if you guys wanna head in, don't feel obliged to stay out here for me. I'm good to go whenever." Cammie suggested that we make "one more reach out and back." The wind was picking up, but we seemed to be riding lower in the water as the day wore on, so I thought we might be taking on some water. Nothing too bad, but something I noticed.
On our reach "out" from the beach we started really humming along (an apt description since the rudders actually "sing" at high speeds) and all of a sudden everyone is scrambling to windward. I go to depower the main, but I look down and the front lee side of the tramp is already underwater; it's too late. I think to myself, "we're going over." Then I quickly realize, we're not merely going over, we've buried the lee bow and we're in the process of diagonally pitchpoling. I feel the forestay/jib-stay hit my life jacket and face as the boat stops and I keep going. I come up to see the boat about a third of the way into a turtle.
I urge everyone to "GET OFF THE SAILS" and we quickly get around to the bottom and start the righting process. It is at this very moment that I become super-duper-ultra-mega-glad that I spent the money for the righting system. Undoing the mainsheet to use as a righting line would likely have given the boat enough time to end up turtling. I got up on the hull, yanked on the righting line. I didn't seem to weigh quite enough to get the boat to come up quickly, but Cammie came around back and hauled herself up on my back and the boat came right up. No one was significantly injured. I had lost my hat, but that was about it. Thankfully, no one was out on the wire when we went over. That usually hurts.
I then dove in to get my hat floating about 15 yards away. Upon hauling myself back on to the boat the lanyard I had the Hobie tool on (around my neck) caught on the hull and broke, losing the tool to the deep. Lost a tool to save a hat. Luckily, the tool appears to be a paltry $7, and the hat was a fitted baseball hat which, for a pumpkin head like myself, is worth its weight in gold.
Other good news of the day includes the "discovery" of lube. The rudder cams are like freakin' butter now. It's truly a thing a beauty. Things I need to buy now: new rudder cam tool, the mast step link became seriously deformed in the pitchpole incident. I managed to bend it back into some semblance of usability, but it bears replacing. Lastly, one of the tires on the trailer is getting low, and I'd be well advised to get a compressor or a bike pump.
We spent about three and half or four hours on the water. Overall, it was kind of boring for the first part of the day, which is to say light winds. Things were picking up as the day wore on though. Much like in skiing, I suggested around 3:30pm, "hey, if you guys wanna head in, don't feel obliged to stay out here for me. I'm good to go whenever." Cammie suggested that we make "one more reach out and back." The wind was picking up, but we seemed to be riding lower in the water as the day wore on, so I thought we might be taking on some water. Nothing too bad, but something I noticed.
On our reach "out" from the beach we started really humming along (an apt description since the rudders actually "sing" at high speeds) and all of a sudden everyone is scrambling to windward. I go to depower the main, but I look down and the front lee side of the tramp is already underwater; it's too late. I think to myself, "we're going over." Then I quickly realize, we're not merely going over, we've buried the lee bow and we're in the process of diagonally pitchpoling. I feel the forestay/jib-stay hit my life jacket and face as the boat stops and I keep going. I come up to see the boat about a third of the way into a turtle.
I urge everyone to "GET OFF THE SAILS" and we quickly get around to the bottom and start the righting process. It is at this very moment that I become super-duper-ultra-mega-glad that I spent the money for the righting system. Undoing the mainsheet to use as a righting line would likely have given the boat enough time to end up turtling. I got up on the hull, yanked on the righting line. I didn't seem to weigh quite enough to get the boat to come up quickly, but Cammie came around back and hauled herself up on my back and the boat came right up. No one was significantly injured. I had lost my hat, but that was about it. Thankfully, no one was out on the wire when we went over. That usually hurts.
I then dove in to get my hat floating about 15 yards away. Upon hauling myself back on to the boat the lanyard I had the Hobie tool on (around my neck) caught on the hull and broke, losing the tool to the deep. Lost a tool to save a hat. Luckily, the tool appears to be a paltry $7, and the hat was a fitted baseball hat which, for a pumpkin head like myself, is worth its weight in gold.
Other good news of the day includes the "discovery" of lube. The rudder cams are like freakin' butter now. It's truly a thing a beauty. Things I need to buy now: new rudder cam tool, the mast step link became seriously deformed in the pitchpole incident. I managed to bend it back into some semblance of usability, but it bears replacing. Lastly, one of the tires on the trailer is getting low, and I'd be well advised to get a compressor or a bike pump.