How about beaching there? Looks like fun.
The rather experienced novices we are, we pulled up the daggerboards. I de-powered letting the traveller out all the way, and we eased the jib a little to slow down to prevent slamming into the sand at full speed. That is when then I notice the rocks...
Vulcanic black rocks, razor sharp, and only two feet underneath us.
I try to come about, but for some reason, maybe because of the traveller all the way out, I blow it. I try again, but it's already to late: we're in shallow waters now, less than one feet deep. The rudders kick up, and at the same time the wind seems to intensify. No matter how hard I pull or push on the tiller, the rudders chafe along the rocks keeping my P18-2 straight on course, heading directly towards the only two big, protruding rocks. I push the tiller like a mule, swearing, but to no avail--a second later we hit one rock at three quarter speed... you can probably imagine the crushing sound of splintering fiberglass when the cat comes to a screeching full stop.
On the beach examining the hull after some hard pushing and pulling trying to free the cat from the rock while frantically avoiding stepping into something that may be lethal, it becomes clear there is some substantial damage. We look around.
It is a totally deserted beach, no boats or any people anywhere near. The jungle starts where the sand and pebbles end. There is no access road or even footpath. You will need a machete to work your way through the jungle, trying to avoid venomous snakes and monkeys on trees throwing stuff at you. No bloody way out.
We have to give it a try. There is an inhabited island only a mile away. It looks like the main cracks are above the water line, and the course will be broad reach, with the damaged hull on the weather side...
Right when we are a hundred yards from the beach, a thunderstorm approaches. The sky turns dark with menacing black clouds, the wind picks up to perhaps a 25 knots. Eight feet waves start to form with with foam crests. I de-power as much as I can, letting the traveller out all the way and easing the sheets, and yet we barely manage not to capsize.
Somehow we make it to the island and beach the cat. It takes quite some effort to push and pull a two third water-filled hull up a steep sand beach. Water is so darn heavy. We have to wait twenty minutes for it to drain.
The island is privately owned, we're not welcome here, and I don't want to leave the boat here. The thunderstorm has passed. I decide to give it another try. The next beach is about 4 miles away on a dead run. We sit as far aft as possible and do the wild thing, sitting on the leeward, the good hull.
We are about in the middle when it becomes obvious we're not gonna make it. The wind has calmed down to 5 knots. I decide to go on a reaching course aiming for another privately owned beach a mile east. The problem is just, the leaking hull is now leeward...
The waterline is already halfway up at the bow, and waves are splashing over the tramp and stern of the hull. I grab the paddle and exert all my effort.
We barely make it to the beach before the bow submerges. The hull is four fifths full, it takes five men to push and pull the cat up the beach.
I ask for some contact cement and an old plastic bag, and patch the biggest cracks.
Off we go for the next 2 miles back home on a downwind course. We're confident we can make it now. Indeed, when we arrive, the hull is only halfway filled.
I may post pics of the repair process in the tech section later.
Dan
