It’s been raining off and on for several days, and the crew have been hunkered down below decks staring at screens and trying to keep busy. We’ve been in Grand Cay for almost nine days – twice as long as we’d planned – due to a few self-inflicted engine problems and some very unfortunate timing.
The truth is that we gave the engine minimal attention during the refit, focused as we were on electrical and navigation systems, and took a chance based on her young age and having been serviced a few months ago and not used much since then. We had the usual spares and filters, after all, most diesel problems being routine maintenance, so we didn’t think too much about powering into the Atlantic at hull speed until much later, when the bugaboos came out of the teakwork.
There was no wind at all during the Gulf Stream crossing, which is not ideal for a sailboat, but that’s why we have an engine! It was a perfect weather window – winds had been moderate and from the south for almost a week, with the current, so the waves were almost flat.
We motored for about seven hours before crossing onto the Little Bahama Bank, where the water goes from thousands of feet deep to just 20 or 25 in the span of a mile. Seeing the ocean go from its deep royal blue to teal and aquamarine and emerald was breathtaking, something we will never forget. About an hour onto the Banks, we slowed down and went to drop the anchor.
Now, the usual procedure is to steer straight into the wind, slow to a dead stop, drop the anchor to the bottom, and then let out the chain while the wind pushes the boat backwards. Then, when the appropriate length has been put out, the helmsman goes into hard reverse to set the anchor and see that it’s holding.
Everything went to plan until we dropped anchor and Kendal throttled back to idle. While David was supervising the anchor drop, the engine up and died. No roar or bang, just a whimper and half a clank. Turning the key again didn’t work, and neither did giving it some throttle/gas while cranking. OK, no big deal, probably just overheated, and besides, we’re a sailboat! We went on letting out chain using the electric windlass, though we mistakenly feared we’d run down the battery by using it without the engine running. We dropped 75 feet (not enough) and were surprised when the rode turned from chain to nylon rope, as we’d understood there was more than twice that length of chain. Then, in the heat of the stress and moment, both of us entirely forgot that the windlass is also capable of pulling up rope rode; therefore we did not want to let the rope out manually, thinking we’d have no way to pull it back aboard by motoring forward and pulling up the slack by hand.
The result is that we had about half as much anchor rode out as we should have, and that means a) an uncomfortable night and/or b) possibility of dragging anchor in strong winds. Dragging wouldn’t have been so bad out there in open water, and we didn’t. But of course the wind and waves picked up right about then, and Avignon spent a sleepless night bucking like a stuck Bull in Pamplona.
The next day we were pleased to find the engine started right up, and proceeded to motorsail all the way to Grand Cay, albeit at lower RPMs to try and prevent another overheating episode. There was enough wind to sail on a nice close reach, and we put out the foresail but not the main (not having rested much, and the main being a lot more work to manage).
The approach to Grand Cay must be made from the SSE due to very shallow water to the south and west. One must also avoid uninhabited Double Breasted Cay and its rocky outcroppings to the north and east, making for a very narrow channel. As we came up past Double Breasted, about two miles from our destination, Kendal started dropping the throttle in small increments on the hypothesis that it might “ease into” the lower gears where the engine had died 24 hours earlier. 2000 RPM, OK. 1750, still OK. 1500… not OK. It died in the very same way.
Now were were in a potentially dangerous position: upwind of the Rosy Kerb Rocks with a thunderstorm bearing down on us. Adrenaline started pumping as we hurried to let out the anchor. We were relieved to find it held us well off the rocks, at least for the moment.
Now we needed a tow – but there is really nobody to call out here… no BoatUS, SeaTow or Coast Guard… We knew Rosie’s Place Marina was the biggest, almost only operation on Grand Cay, so tried to raise them on the VHF on several channels: “Love Train, Love Train, this is sailing vessel Avignon, two miles south, inbound but engine out, in need of a tow.” This we called several times on 16 and 68, the two channels they advertise following. No answer from them or anyone. It was Sunday night, after all, but SOMEBODY had to be around! We looked up Rosie’s phone number in one of the cruising guides, and got an out-of-service message. Huh. Alternate number, same deal…. Anchored upwind of rocks so big they have a name, storm coming and no help…
With nothing else to try, we scoured the other cruising guides and found updated phone numbers for Rosie’s, including an after-hours line that we promptly dialed up, and seconds later reached none other than Rosie himself – the gruff godfather of Grand Cay, without whose consent it is said nothing happens in the northern Abacos. We explained the situation and Rosie promised to dispatch one of his people to help us.
A short time later, dreadlocked Nardo and his boo turned up in a flimsy-looking motor boat – the kind you might fish from in a pond – and tried to pull us forward enough against the wind to raise the anchor. This did not prove to be fruitful, our weight/displacement exceeding theirs by some 20 times and their little outboard motor way overmatched. Nardo instructed us to remain at anchor (like we had a choice) while he went back to get a bigger boat.
A different dude motored out in a 30ft fishing trawler, bringing chaos with him. He had apparently not towed anyone before, and so insisted on doing things the opposite way they should have gone: have us pull up the anchor before attaching ourselves to his boat. This being an insane idea, we did not comply and rather started yelling instructions to him while his boat scratched and banged against our hull and bobstay… eventually he had us by one line as we inched forward into the wind, trying to pull up the anchor with the windlass, and right then two disasters struck at the same time: the cleat on the towboat to which we were tied broke off and skidded 50 feet clear across the water, cutting us loose again into the wind, and the windlass brake also became suddenly loose, allowing chain and rope to pay out freely, out of control. If too much came out, we’d be on the rocks within moments.
I (Kendal) cannot recall the exact sequence of events that followed, but somehow all of the following occurred inside of 120 seconds: we tied back up to the trawler, the line got fouled in its prop and had to be freed by hand, David sustained multiple injuries including bruises on his head and pelvic region resulting from almost (but not quite) going overboard by the waist over the lifeline railing, we cut the anchor rode away and left it on the bottom, I tried the engine again on a whim and managed to get her started. We were able to ease the towing load by motoring ahead cautiously, before our flotilla came clear of danger and turned toward Grand Cay and safety. Burped over the bottom a couple times on our way in, but it was just sand and not an issue. The engine responded admirably on going into reverse and stopped us at the dock like always…
That is the story of our first sailing passage. We expected this life would be a significant challenge, but could not have been prepared for what transpired – even with years of training… you cannot learn to deal with chaos until you are dealing with chaos… we count our blessings that we made it through the ordeal without further injury to ourselves or the boat. And actually, it may have been a blessing in disguise that we caught these problems when we did, in range of civilization and early in our voyage. Stay tuned to learn what was wrong with the engine, and what we did to fix it!
– Kendal