H/16 @ Seabrook Beach NH
The 8th time out this year... or total times out.
Trailered my new to me H16 out to the ocean today, about 80 miles round trip. I picked my cat up from a friend of a friend who hadn't used it in about 8 years. Elbow grease and a few odds and ends and we are ready and able., or not. The boat seems to have quite a few upgrades.
Conditions today, ENE wind 5 to 10. We would launch through 2-3 foot beach break. Swell period was in the 8 -9 range also out of the E. Water was wicked warm at 70. Sunny with an outgoing tide.
Rigged and ready to go.
The waves were pretty constant. You could see out enough that I thought we could get out between sets. I pretty much knew I was F'd as soon as we walked the boat out into the surf. The surf was large enough that we needed to keep the bows straight into them. Problem with that was we couldn't sail in that direction at all, not a friggin chance.
It was at this time we should have realized we were doomed.
We sat in irons, in the impact zone for a shit ton of waves. I was suprised how well it handled it honestly. We kept it trimmed by being as far forward as we could, takin' a ton of water over the head. Bobbing, getting hammered, in the shallow water, in irons, people all over the beach, SCRASH SMASH and BASH. I try to point SE to get some wind in the sails, that puts us almost sideways into the waves. Bammm we take one OK, trying to now head up into the swell BAMM the second rocks this mutha and now puts us in the bent over position of now taking waves right over my starboard rail. Well just one wave. I bail just in time; crew also. Hull in the air, then backwards towards the beach. Without us.
Parents screaming. Kids, bodyboards and swears flying, my Hobie is now heading north up the beach without us.
It doesn't get too far, maybe a hundred yards. WTF. We are battered and beaten. Cut, bruised and bleading. When we catch up to my dearest Hobie as she now rests on the beach an Orca fat women tells us we should just lower the sails and put it away. With a bit of attitude. I concur. My crew on the other hand hits her with,
"Who are you? The friggin' Harbor Master. Mind your buisness."
We ARE done though. With the damages taking their toll on both boat and body. Two small but nasty cuts to each thumb, a little nick to the big "Sgt Hulka" toe that just wouldn't stop bleeding and my crews possible broken finger. The sweet Atlantic didn't just stop at its' physical abuse. It cost me a rudder and a paddle. The port rudder is now about 6 inches shorter than its' counterpart and the paddle is also alittle shorter too.
The crowd applauded as we dragged the boat up the beach a ways. Mocking? Heard a "nice try" "did you guys rent that?" "going out again?" "you guys worked harder than anyone on the beach today" "next time watch the kids".
Lessons learned.
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The Bone
H16
Mass / NH
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