The EPIC Dinghy Disaster
The day started so very, very well. Maria was coming in from Boston just before noon, and Jeff, running late as usual, was due to arrive just after 2. The plan was to take Winchlsea out for a spin, even though there was very little wind. I was fine with this because I had just rebuilt the water pump the week previous, and was anxious to see if that really did solve my engine issue of shutting down after less than an hour at work. By 2:30 we were off of my buoyed anchor (and we did it right this time) and motoring down Narragansett Bay. After over an hour, the engine was still running smoothly, with no changes in RPMs or sounds of her struggling. We had been motoring up wind, so we could have a nice down wind run coming home. It was a picturesque Friday afternoon in August sailing in Rhode Island sound. On the way back the wind died, but we didn't care; we had no place special to be. I flipped the engine back on as we approached Fort Adams and rounded the point back to my makeshift mooring. Jeff and Maria picked it up from the bow and tied the boat off; couldn't have been simpler.
After enjoying a couple of beers, we heard a shout from across the water. My neighbor Matt was calling to us to share a bottle of wine he had just opened. I had not met him before, but the boat had been there for a couple of months now. I use the term "boat" loosely here, I should say yacht. I should really say absolutely gorgeous Swan 56. He had been captain of this yacht for about a year. He is 30, from North Carolina and had taken a similar track that I'm on now. After some good conversation and wine, we went ashore to meet up with some schooner people. Just after midnight, Maria, Matt and I went back to our boats. Maria and I dropped Matt off on the Swan, Perseverance, and headed towards Winchelsea. I was helping Maria on board, standing on the aft bench in the dinghy. Maria couldn't quite get herself up, came crashing back down, fell back a bit towards where I was standing, at which point things went from peachy to disastrous in a hurry.
Within seconds, and I do mean literally seconds, the stern was submerged. Within another two the bow followed it and in another three my dear dinghy was on her way straight to the bottom of Newport harbor. I felt below me, and dove down in the pitch black water, desperately thinking that there may be some neutral buoyancy in the hull, but to no avail. At this point, my thoughts turned to getting myself out of the harbor and trying to collect the floatsam that was now drifting away with the wind and current. To my left, I heard a motor running and it was Matt in his dinghy (although I guess you'd call it a tender, I don't know) to the rescue. He plucked Maria and I out of the harbor, and helped us retrieve the jerrycan, oars and fender. After I was back on Winchelsea, I went to sleep. Oh, my phone was in my pocket too, awesome.
I took the water taxi into work the next morning. I told Isaac about my mishap and he said to recover it. As long as the engine wasn't running, he reasoned, it would be just fine. That night, it was Saturday in Newport in mid August and the town was very, very busy. I wanted to join my friends who were going out, but I instead went over to Green's boat and borrowed his dinghy for the night. Back on Winchelsea, I tied my cast iron skillet to about 25 feet of line and spent the next two hours dunking it up and down as I drifted with the wind, "feeling" for my lost tender. I came across what I thought might be it twice, noted the location and set the watch I borrowed from Kevin for 6 am, sunrise. I woke up the next day to yet another wind shift, which meant I had to start the search over. Back into Green's dinghy with the skillet, I again plucked around for an hour trying to find it, which I thought I eventually did. The only issue was that the tide had come in, and it was a big one due to the proximity of the full moon. To my best estimate, my dinghy was now in about 25 to 28 feet of murky water. Oh, and it had just started to rain. I went back to Winchlsea, put on fins and a mask and attempted a couple of free dives. Now I'm sure, with good visibility and some practice, this would have been a walk in the park; but I was not afforded either of those. Instead, I blindly dove where I thought it might have been and didn't make it to the bottom. I must have been close though, because I felt I was really, really deep. I couldn't believe there was actually water below where I had made it to. I decided this was a vain attempt, and had to call someone who had some scuba gear.
Luckly, Josh does. We also, quite luckily, had the day off Sunday so we could do this. In the pouring rain, with winds upwards of 25 knots, and visibility of about 2 feet, Josh managed to locate the sunken dinghy (video to come soon!). Within 10 minutes we dragged it to the surface and in another 20, Green had come over and managed to nearly rebuild my little 3.5 horsepower two stroke. Again, I never stop learning from these great people I've met. Although we raised it and bailed it out, the engine still won't start. I plan to give it a thorough going over tomorrow after this low pressure system moves on and I can safely row to shore. More to come...stay tuned!
After enjoying a couple of beers, we heard a shout from across the water. My neighbor Matt was calling to us to share a bottle of wine he had just opened. I had not met him before, but the boat had been there for a couple of months now. I use the term "boat" loosely here, I should say yacht. I should really say absolutely gorgeous Swan 56. He had been captain of this yacht for about a year. He is 30, from North Carolina and had taken a similar track that I'm on now. After some good conversation and wine, we went ashore to meet up with some schooner people. Just after midnight, Maria, Matt and I went back to our boats. Maria and I dropped Matt off on the Swan, Perseverance, and headed towards Winchelsea. I was helping Maria on board, standing on the aft bench in the dinghy. Maria couldn't quite get herself up, came crashing back down, fell back a bit towards where I was standing, at which point things went from peachy to disastrous in a hurry.
Within seconds, and I do mean literally seconds, the stern was submerged. Within another two the bow followed it and in another three my dear dinghy was on her way straight to the bottom of Newport harbor. I felt below me, and dove down in the pitch black water, desperately thinking that there may be some neutral buoyancy in the hull, but to no avail. At this point, my thoughts turned to getting myself out of the harbor and trying to collect the floatsam that was now drifting away with the wind and current. To my left, I heard a motor running and it was Matt in his dinghy (although I guess you'd call it a tender, I don't know) to the rescue. He plucked Maria and I out of the harbor, and helped us retrieve the jerrycan, oars and fender. After I was back on Winchelsea, I went to sleep. Oh, my phone was in my pocket too, awesome.
I took the water taxi into work the next morning. I told Isaac about my mishap and he said to recover it. As long as the engine wasn't running, he reasoned, it would be just fine. That night, it was Saturday in Newport in mid August and the town was very, very busy. I wanted to join my friends who were going out, but I instead went over to Green's boat and borrowed his dinghy for the night. Back on Winchelsea, I tied my cast iron skillet to about 25 feet of line and spent the next two hours dunking it up and down as I drifted with the wind, "feeling" for my lost tender. I came across what I thought might be it twice, noted the location and set the watch I borrowed from Kevin for 6 am, sunrise. I woke up the next day to yet another wind shift, which meant I had to start the search over. Back into Green's dinghy with the skillet, I again plucked around for an hour trying to find it, which I thought I eventually did. The only issue was that the tide had come in, and it was a big one due to the proximity of the full moon. To my best estimate, my dinghy was now in about 25 to 28 feet of murky water. Oh, and it had just started to rain. I went back to Winchlsea, put on fins and a mask and attempted a couple of free dives. Now I'm sure, with good visibility and some practice, this would have been a walk in the park; but I was not afforded either of those. Instead, I blindly dove where I thought it might have been and didn't make it to the bottom. I must have been close though, because I felt I was really, really deep. I couldn't believe there was actually water below where I had made it to. I decided this was a vain attempt, and had to call someone who had some scuba gear.
Luckly, Josh does. We also, quite luckily, had the day off Sunday so we could do this. In the pouring rain, with winds upwards of 25 knots, and visibility of about 2 feet, Josh managed to locate the sunken dinghy (video to come soon!). Within 10 minutes we dragged it to the surface and in another 20, Green had come over and managed to nearly rebuild my little 3.5 horsepower two stroke. Again, I never stop learning from these great people I've met. Although we raised it and bailed it out, the engine still won't start. I plan to give it a thorough going over tomorrow after this low pressure system moves on and I can safely row to shore. More to come...stay tuned!
Comments
Still beats life in a cube though I bet :)
-Bill