Monthly Archives: January 2014

Underway Crew Transfer

21 Tuesday Jan 2014

Posted by in Sailing/Boat Handling

≈ 6 Comments

In a previous post, I wrote about participating in an underway crew transfer. (That post can be found here: http://sailingauklet.com/2013/09/16/cradle-cove/ ) I had concerns about this maneuver at the time, and have since been looking into the subject.

Crew transfer while vessels are underway is not well covered, in either print seamanship resources or in materials that are easily found on the Internet. Most discussions on the Internet focus on transfers between large ships and smaller vessels. A few more specific references have turned up so far: the US Coast Guard Boat Crew Seamanship Manual; a caption underneath a photo in The Annapolis Book of Seamanship by John Rousmaniere; a manual for water taxi passenger transfer published by the Australian government; and various discussions of coming alongside for the purpose of rafting at anchor, which are found in some books and on the Internet (details and links are included farther down). As well, there are a number of Internet materials regarding crew transfer between small boats and large ships, and a fascinating manual and video of crew transfer between ships by way of a “highline.”

The preferred method of crew transfer between vessels underway is by use of a smaller dinghy between the larger vessels, if conditions allow. This avoids the problems of larger boats being thrown against one another by waves, with potential for damage to the boats and for injuries involving crushing of persons or limbs between the boats. It is my belief, though I have nothing specific to base this on, that these potential hazards of direct crew transfer may very well be the reason why the topic of coming alongside while underway, for the purpose of crew transfer, is so little discussed.

In spite of these issues, there can be situations where this maneuver is considered, or undertaken, whether because of dire need, or because people think that it is convenient. This author was involved in the latter, without a tremendous amount of forethought. Though the maneuver went just fine, it sure did inspire a lot of thought afterwards!

In hindsight, I think that this kind of maneuver is much more appropriate between smaller boats, such as daysailers, sailing dinghies and other lightweight craft, and that the hazards increase substantially as the two vessels together increase in size and displacement. This goes back to the preference for crew transfer between more substantial vessels being done via a smaller dinghy, to avoid the problems of two larger boats being thrown together by waves. Regardless, direct crew transfer between more substantial vessels has felt worth understanding more fully, because the possibility can arise.

Following is what I have learned, so far, from a good bit of reading and Internet search, and a moderate amount of discussion with a variety of experienced sailors. What is yet to be done is more discussion with those who are professionals in the field of boating and boating safety, some of whom routinely come alongside other vessels underway for various purposes. These include people engaged in commercial fishing, harbormasters, and those who provide small craft marine towing, and individuals working in the Coast Guard and various boating safety organizations. I’m going to keep working on those discussions, and will update this post with any information that I find. In the meantime, following is a list of considerations and procedures, assembled from a number of sources, each of which are referenced with initials in parentheses and included in full further below.

Crew Transfer Underway: Considerations and Procedure Notes – this is NOT an authoritative manual – see below (SL)

– Evaluate conditions, vessels, and personnel skills and physical abilities; determine whether maneuver is both possible and prudent in this situation; if planning to go ahead, double check conditions immediately before beginning procedure – it’s possible for conditions to change between the time of making the initial plan and the time when the maneuver is to be carried out. If conditions are no longer favorable, change the plan! (WC, AU, SL)
– discuss both the overall plan and specific procedures; confirm agreement regarding procedures between captains; verify that crew understands procedures (AU, CG)
– all participants should be wearing PFDs; crew who are transferring between boats, and crew providing transfer assistance on both boats, MUST wear PFDs. (AU) (CG – Coast Guard personnel on deck and underway wear PFDs at all times – it’s not a bad idea!)
– choose location away from traffic and hazards, with consideration for what will happen if there are complications that require more time than expected for the transfer to occur (AU, CG, SL)
– it is preferable if one of the boats (preferably the larger boat) is anchored (CF, SL)
– if anchoring is not possible, or is not desirable, evaluate waves/seas
– unless there is perfectly flat calm, both boats should be making way when the transfer occurs. This is because if hove-to, boats are likely to be severely bashed against each other by waves, resulting in damage and possible injury. Sailboats are more stable when under sail, and this is desirable if possible without rigging entanglement. (CG) If mismatched in size, smaller boat may sustain damage, particularly if transfer is carried out while not making way. (CF) Coming alongside while making way steadies both vessels, reducing potential for damage. (CG)
– Both boats should proceed at slowest speed that ensures steering for both boats. (AU, CG)
– if there is a substantial size difference, and both boats are maneuverable, smaller boat approaches larger boat (larger boat is more stable, and can more effectively hold steady course and speed through waves) (SL)
– approach is made to leeward of boat that is holding its course and speed. (See CG reference for exceptions, including when approaching boat is larger, and can create a lee for vessel holding its course and speed) (ABS, CG)
– if two sailboats, pay careful attention to the rigging of one boat being offset from the rigging of the other boat, to prevent entanglement and breakage of rigging. Masts have been lost… (CF, as well as numerous other guidelines for rafting available on the Internet)
– if at least one boat is powered by sail alone, and transfer will be done while making way, consider doing maneuver on a heading that provides a beam reach, for best speed control and maneuverability of sail-powered vessel (SL)
– If neither boat is an inflatable, several closely spaced fenders are placed where the boats will meet, (ABS, CF) with extra fenders beyond where the contact is expected; one boat or the other should be fendered, but not both (if both boats have hanging fenders, the fenders are likely to disrupt one another, leaving none in proper position). (SL)
– approaching boat begins by matching pace with the boat that is maintaining its course and speed, beside but still with separation between the two boats (CG)
– when matching speed is achieved, approaching boat maneuvers sideways so as to place forward quarter of approaching boat alongside aft quarter of boat that is maintaining its course and speed (ABS, CG)
– this positioning is for two sailboats (ABS), other positioning may be appropriate for other combinations of boat types (CG, CF)
– depending on the specific situation, consider the possibility of attaching lines to maintain position alongside, as in towing “on the hip,” or consider use of a “sea-painter,” as described in the CG manual on page 377 (section 10-48). (CG, discussion with experienced sailors)
– Both helmspersons should maintain awareness that if transferring person falls overboard, engine(s) should immediately be put in neutral, and steering (motoring or sailing) must be focused on avoiding crushing of crew overboard between vessels, followed by all other standard crew overboard procedures for recovery, to be undertaken after COB is clear of both vessels. (SL)
– when successful transfer is complete, approaching vessel moves away by slightly increasing throttle and gradually steering away from vessel that is maintaining its course and speed (avoiding possible suction at stern of the vessel maintaining its course and speed). (CG)

References

(ABS) Annapolis Book of Seamanship, fourth edition, by John Rousmaniere. See photo and caption in section on running aground, p 344.

(AU) “Code of Conduct for Carrying out Passenger Transfers between Water Taxis and Other Commercial Vessels Which Are Underway” Waterways Authority – Australian government publication.
http://www.maritime.nsw.gov.au/docs/cvdocs/CoCPaxTferUnderway.pdf (retrieved January 19, 2014)

(CF) forum series includes discussions of rafting, use of fender boards while rafting/coming alongside, coming alongside underway, and video of crew transfer between cruising sailboat and container ship.
http://www.cruisersforum.com/forums/f90/tips-for-coming-along-side-and-rafting-off-93522.html (retrieved January 20, 2014)

(CG) US Coast Guard “Boat Crew Seamanship Manual,” section 10-45 to 10-49, pp 374-378, “Maneuvering Alongside Another Vessel”
http://www.uscg.mil/directives/cim/16000-16999/cim_16114_5c.pdf (retrieved January 19, 2014)

(WC) Wind Check magazine article on crew transfer that was considered between sailboats during 2012 Newport-Bermuda race
http://windcheckmagazine.com/index.php?option=com_content&id=1459:sailboat-to-sailboat-rescue-of-sailors-at-sea&Itemid=416 (retrieved January 18, 2014)

(SL) Shemaya Laurel – this author is NOT an authority on proper boating practice. Background includes recreational safe boating certificates (State of Connecticut, and Boat US), substantial home study, and time on the water. I do not have a USCG captains license (though I would have trained and applied for one if I thought I could pass the required medical exam, and have done some study of captains license educational materials). All critical points in this article come from the above-named sources; the details referenced to me are based upon my limited experience of crew transfer underway.

This article is in no way meant to encourage underway crew transfer – I felt that my experience with it was hazardous, even though it was carried out successfully and without incident. I might or might not choose to do it again. Either way, I came away from the experience feeling aware of a complete lack of background as far as appropriate procedures for this maneuver. This lack of background was in spite of previous study of quite a number of general boat handling references, and home-study courses and materials, including from The US Power Squadron, Chapmans, and a wide range of sailing videos and texts. It was surprising to me that I did not recall seeing anything about this maneuver discussed, and I came away from the above-mentioned crew transfer experience with an interest in filling that gap in my knowledge. This search for information has resulted in the reference list, as well as the compiled procedural notes, that are contained in this blog post. Since it has been such a project to put together, it has seemed to make sense to share this material. However, I want to reiterate that what I have written is not “authoritative,” and is in no way meant to encourage people to try this maneuver! Please include this paragraph, if you copy this post!

It is my hope that people with qualifications much more substantial than mine will begin to include “underway crew transfer between sailboats and other vessels” in their writings about seamanship and boat handling. Either to say “don’t do it,” and why, or to explain procedures with the same kind of detail as that provided by the US Coast Guard and the Australian government in the references listed above.

If readers have come across other underway crew transfer references that I’ve missed, if you would be so kind as to include them in a comment, I would appreciate it very much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Highline ship to ship crew transfer (just because it’s so interesting!)

Cog Dys and Cog Dis

16 Thursday Jan 2014

Posted by in Why Go Sailing

≈ 4 Comments

IMGP3041 cropped

For a while now, I’ve been thinking quite a lot about the subjects of cognitive dysfunction and cognitive dissonance, as well as the connections between them, and how all of this relates to being on a boat. It’s going to take a little time to get around to the boat part, but perhaps some folks will be interested in the various bits.

This starts with an event from years ago, when a friend of mine used to go to a support group that was related to dealing with health issues and resulting cognitive dysfunction. Out of that group came the catchphrase “cog dys,” which generated sentences like, “Oh, are you experiencing cog dys too?” Nowadays, this friend no longer remembers the group, but the phrase has stayed with me, particularly as one or another form of cognitive dysfunction has been on my mind.

Meanwhile, with exactly the same shorthand as far as pronunciation, and with a minor spelling adjustment, one could have “cog dis,” for the term “cognitive dissonance.” In an example of cognitive dysfunction, in my more tired moments I have a hard time remembering which is which. Recently someone pointed out to me that they are in fact related. (Thank you, Lori!)

Cognitive dysfunction is pretty much what it sounds like: decreased or incorrect functioning of one’s thinking abilities.

Cognitive dissonance, on the other hand, is not so quick and simple to explain. “Cog dis” is the confusion resulting from a mismatch between stated reality and perceived reality, sometimes arising from simple lack of understanding, or from internally conflicting beliefs. It can also be intentionally constructed by individuals (or systems) that have a goal of keeping other people confused, and controlled. When actively perpetrated, and successful, those upon whom cognitive dissonance is foisted are likely to perceive themselves as cognitively dysfunctional. This is like a tongue twister for one’s brain, trying to keep track of all this.

An example of manipulation intended to create this kind of confusion is shown in the movie from the 1940s, “Gaslight,” from which we get the term “gaslighting.” In this movie, in an old house with gas fixtures for lighting, a man wants to convince a woman that she’s crazy, so that he can get away with having killed somebody, and get that person’s hidden jewels. (It’s a crazy and convoluted story.) He tells the woman that the lights are not flickering, though they are, and she clearly sees the flicker. Through a gradual, insistent process on the part of the man, the woman becomes ready to abandon her perception, and to accept the explanation that the man is presenting, which comes down to that she is crazy (cognitively dysfunctional) and therefore should be institutionalized so that he can carry on with finding the jewels. A friendly detective saves the day, validating for the woman that there is indeed flickering in the gas lights, and bonus, catching the creepy man.

I can’t even watch this movie; witnessing the intentional undermining of someone’s reality is too painful to bear. But the concept so clearly illustrated is enormously useful.

A real world example of gaslighting/setting up cognitive dissonance in order to control people would be all those situations where the differences between stated reality and practiced reality are at the same time glaringly and invisibly real. Feminism (with thanks to the writings of Andrea Dworkin, Mary Daly, Sarah Lucia Hoagland, and so many others) provides a specific example: we live in a culture where systematic abuse of women and children is practiced daily; the police/court system says that this is illegal, but many legislators, police officers, and judges (those who create and uphold the legal/cultural system) are perpetrators of this abuse themselves. The subtleties of the system reflect this dual reality.

The stated cultural values are that abuse of women and children – and vulnerable men – is wrong. However, a significant number of people, while explicitly stating that violence, sexual abuse, and everything on up to torture are wrong, are at the very same time allowing and/or participating in these terribly harmful practices.

It’s this kind of conflict between stated reality and experienced reality that can make a person feel really crazy. Or cognitively dysfunctional, unable to think, with one’s mind wrapped into a tangle on the unresolvable conflicts of perception.

So for the folks who are still reading this, wondering how this is ever going to relate to sailboats on water, thanks for sticking with it. It’s a wide-ranging process, this, working to explain the ongoing, daily interconnections between the unresolved past and the present, gradually making sense of both, in a whole, integrated picture.

For me, my time on the water has been an important, and very rich, part of this process of resolution. However, this year on the water was more challenging than last…

While I was sailing this season, my biggest struggle was with cognitive dysfunction, and it worried me quite a bit. At times my thinking was cloudy, and slow-moving. I was aware that when presented with a number of bits of information, I was not always processing them fully, nor putting them together thoroughly into a well-developed, full understanding of the situation at hand. This kind of diminished thinking ability is a normal result of fatigue, but just like before leaving home in the spring, on the boat it was coming up more than I felt like it should. In response, I increased my vigilance around safety issues and navigation, and kept observing, and thinking about, the overall situation. And I continued to sail, almost always by myself.

I like sailing alone for many reasons, but a big one is that I don’t have to worry so much about responsibility for anybody else ending up in a bad spot. If I make a catastrophic mistake, generally I am the only one who will suffer the consequences. It helps, in this, to sail a small boat, rather than a big one. You have to be really careful around kayaks and dinghies, but for the most part if there is an unfortunate meeting of boats including yours, most of the damage will be on your side, not theirs. And of course rocks are not the least bit worried about the boats that run into them. Not that I want any of this to happen at all, and I have continued to take enormous precautions to limit the possibilities, but if something serious were to go amiss, it would generally be just me, in this boat, with the really big problem.

This year’s round of sailing pushed the limits of my comfort zone for being out, as captain, even by myself, never mind with responsibility for others. If the cognitive dysfunction situation were to get much worse, I would have to seriously consider only going on the water with other sailors whose competence is both substantial, and reliable, and with the well-being of the boat in their hands, rather than mine. It would be time to refrain from sailing by myself for anything other than short jaunts, only going out alone during the generally shorter periods when I feel cognitively sharp and up to the task. As folks can likely imagine, this is not a happy thought!

With all these concerns stewing around, I’ve spent a good bit of time over the last few months thinking about cog dys, rolling the term around in my mind, and holding it up next to the identically pronounced cog dis. After the relationship between them was pointed out to me, I started thinking more about the ocean, and why, in the face of these issues, it has continued to be so important to me to go out and float around, on tiny protected bays as well as on those long open water runs that were also such a significant part of this past year’s boat time.

For me, the primary reason for going to sea is the blessed stillness, on a broad scale. There is no cognitive dissonance, alone at sea, unless you bring it there yourself. The reality with which you are presented has no underlying conflicting agenda. The tide comes and goes, the wind blows, the waves are fierce or gentle. One’s preparations are thorough, and effective, or maybe not so much. It’s very straightforward, and if there are mistakes, or there is lack of understanding, those failings can be approached directly, and hopefully improved upon. One might become confused, and that kind of disorientation is almost always uncomfortable, but you know that, somewhere in the array of information in front of you, there is indeed an explanation.

I did however have a situation that was, at the time, extremely hard to sort out, and was as a result quite disturbing, providing a lot to think about. This event was described in the post titled “Update,” from August 29, 2013, about passing near Cross Island off of Machias, Maine. The related bit starts about halfway down the post. (http://sailingauklet.com/2013/08/29/update/ )

In that situation, it was both confusing, and unnerving, trying to piece together the effects of the crazy, shifting current, the wind direction, and the options for progress. Fatigue-related cognitive dysfunction did not help, but in retrospect the larger problem was that “things did not add up.” For me, that sensation of things not adding up was deeply alarming.

It was a cosmic gift that it worked out to call my friends, that first time through, for reassurance and outside perspective, as well as for help in developing an appropriate plan. It was also a gift that I got to go back the following day (described in the second post on August 29, “Cutler and Beyond”) with conditions that clearly demonstrated what had been happening. The second visit was enlightening, not only improving my understanding of the currents and whatnot, but also helping with understanding my distress during the initial event.

As a survivor of severe gaslighting – an aspect of childhood abuse that keeps the perpetrators safe, and the survivor deeply confused for a very long time – it was alarming to not understand what the ocean, and the boat, were doing. This would, of course, probably be distressing for most everybody, regardless of personal history. Besides the specific boat considerations, as humans our brains are wired to feel discomfort at things that don’t make sense, making it more likely that problems/dangers will get our attention – and that’s a good thing! But for survivors of gaslighting, distress in that kind of “things don’t add up” situation is likely to be much more layered, with everything from only peripherally related mistrust and fear, to outright flashbacks, triggered by the feeling of disorientation.

Myself, I make a habit of studying quite a bit, about the ocean and boats, and how they can both be expected to behave, as an antidote to this entire issue. It’s calming, in the face of all that human confusion, to rely on the usually straightforward physics of interacting with ocean conditions; it’s really why I go sailing. But you do need your brain working, in order to sort it all out.

Which brings me back to where we started, with the connection between cognitive dysfunction and cognitive dissonance. In my inner work, I have been deep in a process of unraveling the gaslighting (cognitively dissonant) aspects of my old history. In the end, it comes as no surprise that the process of trying to understand the cognitive dissonance of that time has sometimes made tangled spaghetti of my ability to follow a direct thought, including here in the present. Sailing gives me the gift of having important reasons to perceive the cognitive dysfunction, to evaluate my mental capacities, and to make decisions that are appropriate in light of those observations. Further, it provides extra motivation for understanding the source of the problem.

If I wasn’t trying to go sailing, these issues wouldn’t matter so much. Cognitive dysfunction comes and goes, and if I am simply at home sorting out household or community projects, periods of reduced thinking ability are frustrating, but all that’s lost is some time and efficiency. That muddied brain is uncomfortable, but really, so what. By going to sea, that muddied brain becomes a serious liability; it is not to be ignored. And since I care so much about going to sea, I am motivated to look at the entire situation, and the connections.

The sea is utterly comforting in its total lack of cognitive dissonance. At the same time, it is stark in its uncompromising reflection of cognitive dysfunction. It’s a delicate balancing act: if one goes to sea for a respite from the struggle with cognitive dissonance, but suffers from cognitive dysfunction as a result of that struggle with dissonance, will clarity come back in time to avoid sinking the boat! Or is it important to go to sea precisely in order to perceive this struggle, as a piece of the path toward moving through it.

As has probably already occurred to some readers, it’s also altogether possible that my personal experience of cognitive dysfunction is, more than anything, related to health issues, and resulting shifts in abilities. But it doesn’t feel that way. What it feels like, in fact, is that the source of this difficulty with thinking is entirely grounded in the problems of cognitive dissonance. It is, however, a legitimate question.

Oddly enough, in the process of writing this paper, and so specifically naming cognitive dissonance, my thinking has become clearer than I have experienced in a long time. This would, indeed, be consistent with the theory that gaslighting scrambles people’s brains – and that the more one can name, and extricate oneself from, long-term gaslighting, the more room one has for one’s thinking to clear. For now, I’m open to the possibilities. Regardless of how it is achieved, consistently clear thinking would be a delight, both at home and on the water.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Acknowledgments:

This essay has benefited from careful reading and feedback, on earlier drafts, by Dave Zeiger, Anke Wagner, Judy Schultz, and Lori Lorenz. Many thanks to each of you!

Further, I would like to acknowledge the teaching and mentoring that I have received from Lori Lorenz, who has contributed enormously to my understanding of trauma and recovery (as well as to my process of recovery itself). Specifically in this essay, my grasp of the concept of gaslighting, and of the mechanics of human response to “things that don’t add up,” is a direct result of conversations between Lori and myself. More on Lori’s work can be found at http://www.eftandtrauma.com

Any and all goof-ups that remain in this writing are of course my own!

AIS

11 Saturday Jan 2014

Posted by in Sailing/Boat Handling, Trips

≈ 2 Comments

IMGP4865IMGP1103[1]

“Automatic Identification System,” more commonly referred to as AIS, is both a piece of electronics equipment, and a system presently in use among both large vessels and small for keeping track of one another. I’ve referred to this device several times over the course of the blog, but it really deserves its own post. Now is a nice time because the previous post, “Grease Pencils,” happens to include the AIS that’s installed aboard AUKLET, in the top photo. That’s the gray screen in the lower right corner of that first picture, also copied above. In a perfect world, I would have a photo of the gizmo in operation, displaying a variety of other vessels in the neighborhood. The next time that the boat is in the water, I’m going to remember to take that picture! In the meantime, there’s a good bit to say about it.

The AIS system uses a particular kind of device, but there are quite a number of different pieces of equipment available from different manufacturers that actually do the job. Like a VHF radio, any company that wants to can produce their own versions. Some varieties have their own screen, and others are little black boxes that connect to an existing chartplotter, or to a computer. In addition to some kind of screen, the equipment requires an external VHF antenna, and almost always a dedicated external GPS antenna.

I chose the “Vesper Marine Watchmate 850” (nope, not receiving anything) for several reasons. Most important for my situation, it has its own screen, and uses less power than equivalent competitors. It’s also waterproof, which relieves stress about splashes and rain in the companionway, where it’s mounted for visibility from both cabin and cockpit. In some situations, this model does not need a separate GPS antenna, but the tech person at the company suggested that it would be more secure to have one, with which I agreed – why go through all this only to have questions about GPS signal acquisition. The small external GPS antenna can be mounted flush on the top of the cabin, and has not been a problem.

Overall, the installation did feel like a bit of a production: VHF antenna on the mast, cable through a cable clam on the deck, GPS antenna hole in the cabin, cables run back to the equipment, and to top it all off, wiring for power. Sheesh! But the first time that I was out in Long Island sound, and the gizmo told me about every ferry for 12 miles around, it was all worth it.

AIS systems work using VHF radio signals, transmitting and receiving in short, digital bursts (rather like text messaging in cell phones). As a result, even when transmitting, electricity usage is quite small. I have often wished for radar, especially in the fog, but the power requirements have felt unmanageable. AIS now handles a big part of what radar can do, and in some ways does a better job. All large commercial vessels are now required to use it, and it’s becoming quite popular with recreational vessels. Not so much with commercial fishing boats, but I’m willing to bet that this might gradually change, especially because the equipment means that you can find your friends in the fog, keeping track of entire fleets with ease. In the meantime, both large ships and fast-moving ferries use AIS consistently. Additionally, fast-moving whalewatch vessels, and excursion boats (like the ones with 50 people with fishing rods over the side) also use it. This has been a great blessing, as the high-speed whalewatch boats have been a particular hazard in the places where I sail.

The built-in screen is laid out like a radar screen, with your own boat in the middle and concentric circles around it showing range; on that screen you can see every boat that has an AIS transmitter. In addition to the position of each boat, its little triangle symbol shows which way it’s going, and informational boxes tell you everything from the course and speed of each of those targets to their names and how close you will come if both of you hold the same course and speed; it also tells you how long it’s going to take to arrive at that closest point. The gizmo is busy calculating all that, and depending on how you set it up it’ll beep to draw your attention to any potential problem.

It was nice to hear about the daytime ferries in Long Island sound; the first time the new piece of equipment showed me a whalewatch boat moving at 27 knots in thick fog and going to pass at 1/4 mile, I started seriously blessing it. When the whalewatch captain called me on the radio to talk about that the return from my (giant) radar reflector was entirely lost in the “clutter” on his screen, but that my AIS signal was perfectly clear, I was ready to hug everyone remotely connected to this piece of equipment being on my boat – including the folks in New Zealand who built it.

I’ve spent a lot of time in the fog worrying about getting run over, by everything from fast ferries to enormous ships. Peering into the grayness, and listening intently, taking bearings on ships’ foghorns, reassuring myself that the bearings are changing with each two-minute interval’s blast, which demonstrates that the ships are passing somewhere else. And then listening again, for the next one. You can say, “don’t go out in the fog,” but that doesn’t do much for you if the fog arrives three hours after you’ve hauled up the anchor and sailed away… AIS doesn’t solve the problem of smaller fast-moving boats that don’t use it, and there’s still a lot of listening, and peering, but some of the problems are vastly reduced. Even on a clear day, a ship can sneak up awfully fast – but not now! It’s a real relief.

Another interesting thing that happens with the AIS is that a whole lot of boats never turn them off, even when they are settled in their harbor, or at a dock for the night. I don’t quite understand this, but it has the fascinating effect of marking major harbors’ positions on the screen. All those resting boats make a black patch of overlapping triangles right there on the harbor’s location, that’s impossible to miss.

For example, say you have the screen resolution adjusted for 12 miles out from your position, and Bar Harbor is about 6 miles away. This happened, that night that there was no wind and I floated around watching the phosphorescent streaks from the fish. Lying down to rest, with the AIS screen lit softly in the dark, you could see clearly where the boat was in relation to Bar Harbor, without doing anything at all. It was possible to see if the boat was drifting where it shouldn’t, or to confirm that it wasn’t going anywhere, with just a glance.

Now, if I would simply get a handheld chartplotter, I could be doing this on a regular basis with a lot more precision. But I’m a holdout, and continue with everything from traditional navigation techniques to plotting the latitude and longitude coordinates provided by the GPS. Something about not relying too heavily on fallible electronics… But on those long overnight sails, I sure have enjoyed that easy little trick!

This particular AIS unit gives one the choice to either be transmitting or to switch to “receive only,” which uses less electricity, and tells you about other boats but does not tell them about you. I find that I go back and forth between these settings, transmitting at night where there might be any traffic at all, and always in the fog, but not so much in daytime and good weather. As far as I can see, the biggest potential problem with leaving the transmitter off is if another AIS-equipped vessel is approaching, also with its transmitter off. In this case, neither can see the other, whereas if one has one’s own transmitter operating, at least the other vessel will be alerted to any close approach.

In spite of this issue, being almost entirely under sail, I sometimes turn off the transmitter because it’s just too embarrassing to think of my crazy, halting progress, tacking in minimal wind and who knows what current, all over some tiny stretch of coast for hours – and having that not only observed, but recorded by every AIS-equipped boat in range of the antenna on top of the mast. Of course with the AIS placed in “silent mode,” the boat will still show up on other boats’ radar – but at least the radar image won’t have my name!

As if that tracking embarrassment wasn’t enough, AIS transmissions are also picked up and included on a website that’s open to the general public. I haven’t investigated this – it’s possible that the website is something like marinetraffic.com – but theoretically if you know the name of a transmitting vessel you can do a search, and locate that vessel’s position. Suzanne tried to find AUKLET last year on the computer, but wasn’t successful, even though I did have the transmitter turned on at the time. I’ve been kind of happy about that, and have not made an effort to learn the system – it’s a wild world, all these electronics, and has already far crossed the line into “invasive.” It took me about five years to get over the concept of caller ID on the telephone, though nowadays I do finally like it. Maybe that’ll happen with my feelings about AIS tracking on the computer, but for now, it sure is nice to “run silent.” It’s always a treat to leave the transmitter off, and to sail around with more regular anonymity, sort of like how boats used to be. Even though I do like knowing about the ships.

So that’s about it. The big brother aspect isn’t so exciting, but I mostly think back to that whalewatch boat speeding along in the fog, that never would’ve seen my giant radar reflector lost in the sea clutter, and was originally headed straight toward us. It eventually passed at a half a mile, and I still couldn’t see it. But thanks to the AIS, I knew exactly where it was.

Grease Pencils

02 Thursday Jan 2014

Posted by in Sailing/Boat Handling

≈ 4 Comments

IMGP4865

IMGP4861

Here’s another one of my best friends on the boat: a grease pencil! In combination with a piece of office-style “whiteboard,” and a clear vinyl chart case, two substantial, everyday cruising chores are easily taken care of: chart work, and all those stray numbers.

First, a bit about the grease pencil itself (also called a “china marker”). The kind with the paper strip that you unwrap to gradually get more of the grease point is not the right one… the paper strip, wrapped or unwrapped, does exactly what you would think it would do when it gets wet, becoming a mushy mess. Fortunately, nowadays there are the plastic kind, like in the bulk section of the natural food store, for marking the code or price of whatever you have put in your bulk bag.

These natural food store grease pencils are perfect! I’ve offered to buy them from my local natural food store, but the folks I asked didn’t know how to sell them to me (no code number, I think). Ten years ago they were hard to find on the Internet, leading to complicated moral decisions in the natural food store; now, I’m happy to say, a search for “plastic grease pencils” turns them right up, along with replacement leads. That’s an enormous relief, since they are so incredibly useful.

Sailboat cruising involves a lot of odd numbers that need to be either remembered, or for those of us with less than stellar memories, endlessly looked up. These include everything from times of high and low tide, and current changes and directions, to radio channels appropriate for longer conversations, and if one should be so lucky, the radio channels for “Fundy traffic,” which looks after who is going where in the fog in the Bay of Fundy. (I was delighted to get far enough in 2013 to actually need the number for Fundy traffic!) Then too, there are the radio channels for triggering foghorns, since the Coast Guard instituted this system as an alternative to horns triggered by automated visibility sensors.

If you travel very far along the coast, there is the issue that the magnetic variation shown on each chart will change, and the figure only appears on the chart in those tiny faintly printed numbers inside the compass rose. Along with that, I am forever forgetting if I should be adding or subtracting, as I move between magnetic and true figures for courses and bearings.

All of these numbers and more can be neatly kept track of with a grease pencil and a “whiteboard,” (also called a “dry-erase board”) like what is normally used with special magic markers for offices or refrigerator notes. The wide black lines of the grease pencil are easy to read against the whiteboard – even without reading glasses, if you write big enough – and they wipe off with dry toilet paper. Whiteboards are available in all sorts of configurations at low-end department stores like Kmart, at minimal cost.

In the photos above, the two small boards are mounted with adhesive velcro just inside the companionway hatch, so they are visible from both the cockpit and the cabin. The one on the left has tide times, and the one on the right has the compass variation of the moment, and the conversion formulas, as well as assorted radio channels. The velcro means it’s easy to take the boards down, erase outdated material, and write in the new stuff. Even though I sailed south, I left Fundy traffic on its board, because it makes me so happy to think that I got to where I needed it!

The bigger, unattached whiteboard is handy for many things, from current tables, to predicted wind, to compass notes. Most often, I use it to copy out current information that is relevant at the time. But it’s also been useful while navigating, especially for taking bearings, noting them down along with the time, and then doing out the conversions to true, also on the board. With two or three bearing targets, it’s easy to make a grid, targets down the side, magnetic bearings, conversion, and true bearings going across, with true bearings then ready for plotting on the chart. Sure there’s the GPS, but it’s nice to keep in practice, and I find I do it more since I quit trying to just remember everything, or go through the production of paper, pencil, and glasses.

Then there’s the chart. For cockpit navigation, a long time ago I started using vinyl ziploc chart cases that are marketed for kayaking, that have plastic D-rings on the corners. They keep the water off the chart, and if you clip a little tether line onto the corner, the chart stays in the boat, regardless of weather chaos, or simple lack of attention. I once watched a nice, oversized artists’ clipboard that I used for charts go over the side and instantly sink – fortunately not with my only chart clipped onto it! But it could’ve been, and the image of it sinking so fast (into open water about 40 feet deep) has stayed with me.

Anyway, once the chart is in the vinyl case and tethered to the boat, the grease pencil works perfectly on the vinyl. Positions/times, courses, speeds and distances, can all get laid out, and are waterproof. The only thing you have to watch out for is that the chart does not shift within the case. Sometimes I fold the chart just so, so there’s no room for shifting; other times I put two widely-spaced grease pencil reference marks, and try to remember to check that the chart is lined up with the marks before each new entry.

IMGP4118

In this photo, additional marks were set up for sailing at night into a somewhat tricky harbor (Roque Island). All the lighted buoys are written large – for example “G4” as my personal shorthand for “green, flashing 4 seconds.” Rocks or other hazards are given a triangle around them with the grease pencil, so they’ll stand out in the dark with a flashlight and without reading glasses. The one tricky thing about this particular example is that if you look closely – possible by clicking on the photo, and then clicking again, to enlarge it further – you can see that the chart actually did shift within the case. Some marks are where they belong, but some of the circles around unlighted buoys, and triangles around hazards, are actually not quite where they belong. Still, you can get the idea. Later, where you might have noticed that the position fixes stop, I flipped to the more detailed chart, which was set up facing the other side of the case, likewise with the buoys, lights, and hazards marked. Eventually it occurred to me that if I took a photo before cleaning the chart case, I’d have a record of that particular sail. That’s been fun too.

These chart cases last well, except for the ziploc bit at the corners. I have, however, been surprised to find that except for in a dumping rain, the tears at the corners don’t matter at all. So now they have to be really far gone before I bother to replace them – these are the ones that I had on the Falmouth cutter, 10 years ago.

As for the charts, I’ve become quite fond of those maptech chart books – the giant spiral-bound collections, like for Block Island RI to the Canadian border. Nowadays, I take a double set of that one. One is designated for tearing out (from the spiral binding) and the other is kept intact. The tearout pages go in the vinyl cover for the cockpit, but it’s nice to have the intact set for in the cabin where it’s dry. And then, it’s really nice to have that second set if the other chart that you need to check is on the backside of the tearout one that is so perfectly folded and positioned within the chart case! Besides which, I’m a redundancy nut, and it makes me really happy to know that even if I really screwed up and the chart case went over the side, I would not be stuck without a chart for the place where I was sailing.

Between the chart case that you can write on – and erase – and the whiteboards, and the grease pencil to go with them (okay, five, stashed in handy locations), keeping track of crucial information has become quite a bit easier aboard AUKLET. An upcoming post has a lot to say about memory, and thinking, and things like fatigue; the above strategies are convenient, and generally make life easier, but they also contribute to safety, related to those brain-function issues.

Any time that crucial information can be easily organized and readily available, in a form that can be absorbed even while terribly tired or stressed, the chances are improved that it will be put to use at those critical moments. That’s a good thing, and it’s just that much more of a bonus that it makes everyday life easier (and more fun!) too. Who would’ve thought that a little grease pencil could have so much to it!