Showing posts with label The Human Factor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Human Factor. Show all posts

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Weather to go? and the herd instinct...

Pondering the weather?
I think we have all been there, in that anchorage or port - pouring over forecasts , grib files and weather maps, trying to decide whether to go or not. Somehow the perfect weather window always seems to have just gone or to be another week away. Our options seem to contain many uncertainties, despite (or maybe because) of the much more accurate long range forecasts available these days. The decision to go is often complicated by other boats all thinking about heading of as well.

The Herd Instinct

It always slightly amuses me how much sheep thinking is coded into our DNA's (or is it human thinking by the sheep?) and I realise I'm not immune to this either. You get 2 or three boats in an anchorage waiting to depart, and everybody starts in subtle ways to find out what the other boats are thinking, and when they are going, there is much at stake in these discussions, ego, fear and respect... This doesn't only apply to other vessels, a similar dynamic can happen between individual crew on a boat.

Ego, comes into it because people don't like to be thought of as wimps, so (typically) the blokes like to make light of the forecast... 25-35 knots, no problems, been in much worse than that many times, we'll be right.. Another factor with the whole ego thing is that it can trap you, if you have stated loudly that you plan to go tomorrow- to other people who thought the following day might be better, it can be hard to then change your mind to agree with them when they are right...

Fear, it’s funny how travelling in groups somehow makes us feel less fearful, watch a group of penguins about to jump into water that may contain a hidden leopard seal to see the same type of reactions... Be careful that you are not leaving against your better judgement because you are afraid of being left behind... Or not leaving on a good forecast because no one else is...

Respect, saying we are going to do something different from others is like saying you think they are wrong... once we are locked into group discussions this becomes a powerful factor, it can be hard to say no.

The factors to consider between different boats
Factors to be brutally honest about are our boat, our crew and our rush factor.
Our boat- Is it bigger, smaller, faster, slower, well found or dodgy
Our crew - it is the hardest one to be objective about; we all like others to think we have heaps of experience, it's that ego thing. And they may be playing the same game, the blind leading the blind…

The rush factor - How much of a rush are we in, have we got pressing deadlines, have we been waiting for weeks already. How much do we motor vs. slop around in light air? Are we ready to go yet or do we actually want to spent a few more days in this place....
Ultimately the decision to leave should be an individual one, and one that you are comfortable with. Don't let that Gung-Ho delivery crew make you feel like you are cowards. Or that boat that has been waiting for 4 weeks for a perfect patch of weather make you feel worried about the conditions as long as you are confident the weather is OK for the boat and for you. Also try not to put pressure on other boats to follow your lead; they need to make up their own mind...

Advantages
In saying all this there can often be advantages to discussing things with others, such as

  •          local knowledge
  •          A bit of a reality check
  •          other boats may have better or different weather information
  •          It is social and you get to know the crew from other boats.
You may even end up sailing at the same time and this can be fun (or a nuisance as they call you up every half hour to give you a position report and then expect you to slow down and wait!) If you are lucky you can get some good photos of each boat sailing…


Getting it wrong

I stuffed it up badly once (actually more than once but this one sticks most in my mind). I knew I was making a mistake at the time (Stupid hey...) I had a deadline, impatient crew and a bad forecast. Another boat was going, they reckoned it would be fine, and they had no engine - my ego didn't like that... My crew were starting to think I was a wimp and were really keen to go. I knew I could handle the conditions ok and I had faith in the boat, but I really thought the next day was a much better idea... It looked very unpleasant out there and the clouds were racing overhead. With a sense of foreboding we sailed. The crew got greener and greener as we left the lee of the land but their insistence on sailing meant they couldn't really bottle out, I should have taken the initiative and pulled the pin - it’s the skipper’s job, but I didn't want to be the one to bottle first. 

To windward the sky got darker and then without warning (actually there was good warning, I just ignored it) a solid squall came through flattening the boat. The seas rapidly built, steep and nasty, one throwing us well over and making me think the windows should have popped out. It didn't ease up any, so after a good struggle I clawed down the spitfire jib (we already had the third reef in) and we slogged our way back to the anchorage, motorsailing, arriving very wet and tired at midnight with our tails between our legs. The other boat ended up being towed in...
The next day the wind had eased somewhat and it looked much healthier but the crew were now very wary, they took some convincing before we headed out… We ended up having a great crossing, why I had headed out the day before with that forecast I don't know (actually I do, It was my ego, and I should stop listening to it.)  Now I must say that despite this incident they were a fantastic crew, and I enjoyed sailing with them. It was my error and ego that led to a miserable night.


Doesn't look so bad? Don't take the red arrows lightly...

Getting it right

I remember sitting at the Melchior Islands in Antarctica. We had a shocking system coming though the Drake Passage; the Grib files had it intensifying rapidly into 50 knots or so of southerly. It is about a 3-4 day passage and the trick is to try to time it to avoid a nasty westerly at Cape Horn, it's not normally too hard but in this case the timing would have to be perfect. Too early and the southerly could be dangerous, too late and the next westerly could make it difficult to lay the shelter under the lee of the horn... To make matters more complex five crew had flights from Ushuaia in the next week - And the new crew were to join shortly after...
I was pretty happy with when I had to leave, but I wanted to talk to Eric from Vaihere, he was heading off soon and had much more experience in the area than me. Vaihere is a bigger and faster boat than us and he was planning to leave 6 hours after me. 

It was good to talk to him, because it showed me that he didn't much like the situation either (very bad...) so there was some justification for my nerves... But we were both pretty confident that we could time it right for our respective vessels, and cope with the situation if it didn't pan out how we thought. He waited and I left. He arrived at the horn 2 hours after me, and I was probably an hour or so later than I should have been (because it was starting to get very nasty); it blew like stink that night. Vaihere kept going and looked magnificent sailing past in 50 or so knots of westerly. But I was glad we were tucked up in a safe anchorage.

What worked well about talking to Eric is that we had both dropped our ego's, he admitted that it looked nasty, and he was worried about it, as was I, we weren't trying to impress each other. We both had a pressing need to get away, but we were prepared to wait if needed. And we were aware of the different speeds and capabilities of our boats. My plan was to head out, and assess the situation in 12-24 hours, if I thought I couldn't reach the horn before the westerly’s started to crank up I would head back to Antarctica and cancel the flights... I had not used Eric to prop up my decision, but I wanted the benefit of his local knowledge of the Gribs and their relationship to the local weather systems near the horn.







Saturday, March 26, 2011

Fatigue... of the human variety

Watch Bill- 2 on 4 off
I have spent quite a large portion of my life on watch systems of one sort or another, and in general I dislike them all... No matter how clever the watch system is someone still has to be up and alert at 0300, and the human body (at least mine anyway) is just not designed for this kind of abuse... I struggle to keep my eyes open and mind alert, and I know I am along way from my peak efficiency (and it's pretty low even on the rare occasion that it reaches peak..)

I suppose there is one system I do quite like, It's a watch system where someone else always gets the graveyard shift, and I get to sleep. But that's not really very fair is it...

Those graveyard shifts are just bearable if I have had plenty of sleep, and are into the swing of a watchkeeping routine. If I am already sleep deprived and fatigued it is a dangerous combination that I do my best to avoid. I have already talked about Rolf and Deborah's excellent  Sleep bank concept where you make sure you have enough sleep stored up to keep you safe. Go to far into debt and the debt collectors will soon be calling. and then you will pay the price - with interest...

I always remember my father in a sleep deprived state when I was very young. We were sailing up the east coast of NZ and for whatever reason he had been awake to far to long. He couldn't correlate the chart to what he was seeing outside and so took the always reasonable approach and decided the chart was wrong and he had found some new islands... Fortunately Mum still had her marbles, and could navigate us home.

After a decent sleep my old man couldn't believe how stupid he had been (and still denies it..) but the scary thing is, abit like being very drunk, you don't know how impaired you are at the time, and to you your decisions seem rational and smart. Hallucinations are the extreme symptom of sleep deprivation. I have never got to that point, and intend never to (touch wood). But some stories of hallucinations by singlehanded sailors who have mismanaged their sleep are downright scary... Sleep deprivation is probably the root cause of a significant proportion of serious accidents at sea.

If you are alone you need to be particularly careful, to the extent that managing sleep becomes your number one priority. During my singlehanded Tasman crossing in Reiger I was lucky that the cheap alarm clock I had bought from a two dollar store (predictably) died on the second night. So I ended up sleeping at night with no alarms set. and I found that I woke up naturally every time I needed to, if the wind shifted slightly I woke up, If it dropped I woke up, and once I even woke up to see a ship 5 miles away (not on a collision course...) I think the sound of the engine and propeller woke me... It worked for me because I was well rested. If I was sleep deprived my body would not wake up for the slightest sound. I don't think I would recommend this anywhere with more traffic than the Tasman? Around the coast I kept a 20 minute look out with micro sleeps, a punishing routine - that I could only keep up for one night (anybody got any tips on this?). I guess the point here is that I made a decision that mid ocean my biggest risk factor was fatigue due to lack of sleep, rather than being run down...

With crew it is more about making sure everybody is getting enough rest. If crew decide to skip a sleep period because the weather is nice or they are reading a good book it can cause problems latter when they fall asleep on the graveyard shift. This often happens when you first leave port for a big voyage or race, most crew want to be up for the excitement or because they want to be hero's, I normally go for an afternoon nap and they think I am soft. But at 3oclock in the morning I am capable of making sensible decisions and they are struggling to keep awake... Even if I don't actually sleep in my afternoon nap, just lying down and relaxing does alot of good.

I keep away from caffeine when I am on watches. For me It can really effect my sleep patterns, but it is good to have as a backup if I really need to stay awake for 6 hours or so.

I hate the 4 on 8 off watch system, If prefer 2 on 4 off or 3 on 6 off. With only two I quite like 3on three off at night and 6 on 6 off during the day. But it is hard to get much agreement on this... watch systems deserve their own post later.

When sailing through heavy ice getting enough sleep as skipper is a huge problem, on Snow Petrel I should have stepped out of the watch system when we were in the pack ice, and been on call. I got very tired and it could have been dangerous if we had any problems. I drew too heavily from the sleep bank...

As a Skipper you need to look after your own sleep, don't be a hero, It's easy to overwork and overworry and micromanage everything and before you know it you are the one making stupid decisions, or crew take things into their own hands and "let you sleep" for a while, instead of calling you if and when they should. There is alotwatch and give crew a break as a treat... As a skipper it is good to be able to Nana nap, even just for 15 minutes can be refreshing.

On the ships we always write up night orders, with specific instructions for the officer of the watch (OOW), they must be read and signed  (and then followed..). I have used this system on yachts as well. It has many benefits, not in the least being that instructions aren't subject to chinese whispers, and are less likely to be  modified or forgotten at 3am. The night orders apply to that night only and can go in the logbook. The masters standing orders are more generic and can go at the front of the logbook, to be read and signed on joining. Masters standing orders and night orders deserve their own exciting post. But if done properly can help the skipper sleep soundly, knowing his instructions should be understood and that he will be woken when needed.

Finally another Shipping thing from the STCW these are some of the exciting Anti-fatigue rules we must abide by and they are worth considering as a minimum for yachts...
  1. All persons who are assigned duty as officer in charge of a watch or as a rating forming part of a watch shall be provided a minimum of 10 hours rest in any 24-hour period.
  2. The hours of rest may be divided into no more than two periods, one of which shall be at least 6 hours in length.
  3. The requirements for rest periods laid down in paragraph 1 and 2 need not be maintained in the case of an emergency or drill or in other overriding operational conditions.
  4. Notwithstanding the provisions of paragraphs 1 and 2, the minimum period of ten hours may be reduced to not less than 6 consecutive hours provided that any such reduction shall not extend beyond two days and not less than 70 (77 under IMO?) hours of rest are provided each seven day period.
If you have any fatigue induced error stories put them below, or any other comments.

Cheers

Ben

Monday, March 7, 2011

Keeping extremities warm in cold weather

Just cleaned out my car today, and found an old pair of mittens left over from my Antarctic trips. (don't ask what they were there for, maybe skiing last winter?). But it got me thinking about my two favorite pieces of gear, My mittens and my boots.
Crappy boots and gloves gave us no end of problems in Antarctica
When we took Snow Petrel down to Commonwealth Bay we had the good fortune to have lots of advice and help from Don and Margie McIntyre, an two amazing people who have spent more time at Commonwealth Bay than anyone else alive. They lent us a iridium phone, some survival suits, and lots of other very useful bits and pieces, but unfortunately we had no good wet weather boots or gloves.

We tried heavy duty washing up gloves over woolen thermals, and took lots of socks and put foam liners in our sea boots. Neither worked particularly well. The insulated rubber gloves were initially great but got very smelly and were hard to dry inside. We ended up using hot water bottles and hand warmers alot, getting them set up before any big job like dealing with shorelines. Even so our hands and feet were often cold, and by the time we got back to Tassie we had numb feet for a few months due to a kind of trench foot? (any thoughts on the medical diagnosis would be interesting...)

On the trip on Blizzard across to South America I thought I had learnt more - the boots would be OK, not as cold, but I was worried about my hands, Steering for 5 weeks from an exposed aft cockpit (no dodger to hide behind). So I wasted lots of money on the best gloves and mittens.... They proved next to useless (never buy skiing stuff for the ocean), and my fingertips suffered the same numbness that took weeks to go away.
Expensive but... SO toastie and warm...

When I got to the Falklands on good advice I bought some very expensive bright orange Dunlop Thermo+ boots. These boots a bulky but surprisingly comfortable, amazingly warm, and easy to keep clean and dry inside. They are lighter than they look and quickly became my standard outside wear, even on long walks ashore in Patagonia. They totally solve the cold feet problem. No wonder all the Antarctic charter yacht crew swear by them. How I wish I had had them on Snow petrel...
Sexy boots hey... Me and Karen two hours walk up a ridge in the Beagle Channel. No blisters yet...

So just the hands to sort out... Well Spirit of Sydney had a decent dodger, so my hands survived better, and the peninsular is much warmer than the Antarctic Mainland. But even then my fingers still got very cold handling shore lines and such.

The final solution to the hands problem came from Siggy (Sigurður Jónsson) from Borea adventures in Iceland who was my excellent first mate (and a superb cook) on Spirit of Sydney. He kindly gave me his Icelandic fisherman's Mitts when he went back to Iceland. Apparently the are cheap and common over there (good luck trying to find any in Australia..).
The ultimate mitts (so far..), reversible liners for drying and washing, and totally waterproof




These have sorted out the hands.. Mittens are alot warmer than gloves and they are quick to remove for fiddly tasks, easy to dry by pulling out the liner, And totally waterproof. Spirit of Sydney had a tell tale of water from the main engine syphon break that filled a little bucket near the helm. These mitts were often dipped in the warm water to take the chill off. Thank you Siggy..


Winter grip gloves are very comfortable, quick and easy to get on and off and although not waterproof they are great for any fiddly jobs. They are still quite warm even when wet, and dry quickly. they are much more comfortable to wear than neoprene.  Neoprene gloves are good for those really wet jobs like running shorelines, but are rather unpleasant to wear for any length of time, and not really all that warm for general use. 

The problems with alot of the other boots and gloves is that they get progressively damper inside from sweat even if they keep the water out ok, so they are warm for 3 days then get colder and colder..(and smellier and smellier..) You need to be able to wash and dry the insides easily.

I have seen some neoprene boots and they look pretty good (any feedback appreciated), but I like the way the Thermo+ stays open and loose, pumping air around the boot with each step, expelling any damp manky air.. My socks seem to stay dry right though a cold watch.

I just need to find a great solution for my head (the Antarctic division DORK hat worked ok but looks abit stupid...) and I am interested if any of you have any thoughts on good cold weather gear for hands and feet at sea, after all Australia is pretty warm so my testing opportunity's are limited.

Cheers

Ben

PS   I have just found AAC has two great article's with lots of good comments on keeping hands and feet warm. Well worth a look... I am constantly impressed by the quantity and quality of articles and comments at AAC, many thanks to Phyllis, John, Colin, and all contributers.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Listen to the old guys (and girls..) and the locals

An old saying, there bold sailors, and there are old sailors, but there are no old bold sailors comes to mind as I read Rod Stephens excellent manuscipt kindly provided by S&S and posted on the Dashews site. The manuscript shows every bit as much commonsense and good seamanship as you would expect from someone with Rods depth of experience, spanning 75 years or so. The lessons contained are hard earned ones, and timeless, and clearly shows why Sparkman and Stephens has such a great reputation.

I am always amazed at the amount of stuff I can learn by listening to experienced older seamen (and seawomen...). Some of what they say might not be in current fashion, or may not conform to the latest scientific ideas, but it often confirms to the hard rules of seamanship and commonsense. And many time quotes from old timers have come back to me in the light of some situation and suddenly make perfect sense. Of course make sure of the credentials of the person you are listening to, there are always plenty of armchair experts...

Also local knowledge is fantastic, I always try to ask the locals about their area, even the newbie boat owner knows much more about the area they sails in than I will. And it is a great way to meet local people. I have had alot of luck talking to the local fishermen, many are often surprised when I ask them about the area (being more used to yachties snubbing them) and their knowledge of the local coast and weather is often incredible. I take a pen and paper for drawing mud maps, and writing stuff down.

Of course I need to be careful of blindly accepting everything at face value, sometimes it is wrong, or more frequently the info is right but I may have interpreted it wrong, but I usually get some really good useful info, and make some friends as well.

Fair winds

Ben

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Storm Tactics Part 2 Before the blow

Yes this is a lame picture,about 35 knots so get some sleep now.

The answer to the Blizzard question from part 1, We were kind of reverse hove to with just a backed storm jib and the helm down, this steadied us up somewhat but we were still lying more or less beam on, or maybe the bow was abit down, perhaps 110 degrees relative. The wind was touching 50 in the gusts so probably about 35-40 knots of real wind, and the seas were still pretty low, no more than 3 meters? We were really just taking a break, it not being worth bashing into for the miserable progress we would have made. The wave that came over was definitely a rogue wave, and much bigger than the normal. I sensed it just in time to swing the camera around.

But to move on, I made a mistake in Part 1 Did any of you notice? See I knew you weren't paying attention.... (mind you I didn't notice it either) The caption on the first picture reads "Careless is the ass, who sleeps with a low and falling glass" when in fact this is probably exactly what you should be doing.

Rolf and Deborah from "Northern Light" drummed this into me as a kid when I spent hours reading my grandfather's copy of their excellent book "Northern light". They have a term called the sleep bank, you put hours into it and you take hours out. simple, and you do have an overdraft facility, but go to far into debt and you are in serious strife... It is scary how quickly your decision making part of the brain gets defective with lack of sleep. You start doing really stupid things... Like writing blogs..

So Number 1, get some sleep. Also:
  • If you haven't already (and you really should have been..), get the best weather info you can and work out if you can set a course to clear the worst areas.
  • Study the chart, make sure you are no where near a seamount, edge of a steep continental shelf, or fractured zone these may cause upwellings or somesuch that can make the sea state horrendous. Two deep sea fishermen I have talked to like to get 30 or 40 miles clear of even very deep seamounts if there is any bad weather forecast. They also report 3+ knots of subsurface current at times near these areas. These fishermen are the only good source of info I can find on this, so don't take it as gospel. Here is an interesting link about the schooner "Orbit" capsizing, make sure you also check out the technical notes at the bottom of his page.
  • Start logging weather info as often as possible. Then you can possibly track the low center. If the storm force winds aren't forecast you have an obligation to let the nearest met office know, and broadcast it to other vessels.
  • Cook up a feed, eat and drink lots of water, organize some snacks.
  • Tidy up all that mess that always accumulates (on my boat anyway, maybe you are a tidy person)
  • Secure boat (ie lash down that heavy sextant box)
  • Get storm gear ready
  • Make sure batteries are topped up
  • Lash spinnaker pole down well (it is your emergency mast). I must set mine up to store below.
  • Put clothes, computers and stuff in dry bags
  • Get crap off the deck (fold and stow sails) 
  • Top up any day tanks, empty all bilges, and make sure they are clean and the pumps work.
  • Put the small vane on the wind vane
  • maybe consider seasick tablet if you are so inclined
  • I put extra lashings on my liferaft, to disable the hydrostatic release. You can make up your own mind about this.. BUT definitely make sure a sharp knife is handy...
But also SLEEP.

I'm sure there are many points I've missed. This list is not definitive, let me know if you think of any others and I'll include them.

You are allowed a moment of panic, abit of fear, and quite alot of worry,(unless you really are a robot) but try not to let it stop any of the above. And if you have crew, don't let it show to much...

I will try to write something on sleep patterns latter, but for now I will just note that kind of meditating and relaxing in my bunk seems to work almost as well as sleeping, so now I just get my head down and relax, rather than trying to force myself to sleep. Even 20 minutes of not quite asleep refreshes me alot. You shouldn't be in nasty stuff in the first few days (if you are you need to learn to read a forecast..). So at least  you should be in sea sleeping mode (It takes me a few days).

At this stage the boat should be making its way out of the path of the worst weather and hopefully towards your destination. You may have some great sailing, as the winds and sea build, slowly reducing canvas. I don't push the boat hard at this point unless I really need to get out of the way of something very nasty.

I like to study the sea, Especially the swell directions - there will be two or even three swell patterns overlaid, and of course the wind-driven sea on top of this. Getting this info may prove vital later, because this will give you some idea of the direction of any rogue waves, and may give you some idea which is the best tack or gybe be on latter if things start to get really nasty. Rogue waves tend to come in the average direction of the swells and seas - ie a NW swell with a SW sea will likely give a rogue wave from the west, It also may not, but on probability it is more likely, so if running it would be better to be on the Starboard gybe heading east rather than on the port gybe heading north. Or if hove to, be on the port tack heading west, rather than south. You really want to minimise the chance of a rogue hitting you on the beam... So pay attention to the waves.

I think rogue waves are the big killer, and ultimately the best defence is a strong boat and a bit of luck -  the specific tactics have less to do with it, but certainly can help. That's why I like to prepare for the worst before leaving the wharf.

I have run with drogues in the past, With mixed results, and I would like to talk about this at some later point. But for now need to leave this topic a bit. There will be a part 3, or more, but for now this will have to do, I have already spent too much time deleting and rewriting sentences, and I am still not really happy with it...

All the best, and I hope you never need to use any of this stuff.

Ben

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Storm Tactics Part 1 Preparation

After last nights boring battery discourse I thought I'd better give you something abit more salty, Although truth be told electrics will probably give you more grief than storms...

Careless is the ass, who sleeps with a low and falling glass.

I'm sure what you want to hear is lots of salty sea dog tales of waves washing the ship, while lightning flashes around our stout ship and the low clouds race overhead.. But I can't be bothered tonight (maybe I'll do some as case studies latter). What I can do is give you a glimpse into my thoughts on dealing with very bad weather.

I have been through some nasty weather in many different yachts and ships, There are plenty of people with more experience than me, and plenty with less, and lots of perfectly valid ideas and concepts. My best advice is to read widely, including opposite opinions to what you might think, Ie the Pardeys have a very different ideas to what a round the world ocean racer might prefer. Both are valid for different vessels and sailing styles and also listen to that quiet old sailor in the corner of the bar, his words might make all the difference in some blow somewhere.

My thoughts are that it really comes down to luck, good preparation, a strong boat and a good mental attitude, ultimately it has less to do with the specific tactics involved. I think to many people get tied up in the one magic solution, Hanging all your hopes on one favored tactic is rather dangerous, The sea is too dynamic, each storm will have very different wave characteristics, and each boat can behave unpredictably in extreme winds. what worked well in one case might not work at all in others.

Ok I will give you a salty story to illustrate this point. My friend Dave Pryce is one of the most experienced sailors I know. He took his 20 meter alloy yacht Blizzard down to Commonwealth bay and got caught in a very serious blow. In the past he has always run off at speed, steering down the waves, but this time the wind was to strong, the boat kept surfing down the waves, broaching uncontrollably, He described it as as if he had a spinnaker up in 40 knots. And he was under bare poles. He ended up lying a hull, apparently the wind lay her over so far she just slid down the waves with no rolling, like being hove too. Now this is interesting because if Dave said the storm was something else, it was, and the vibrations from the harmonics in the rig undid one bottle-screw, and the prop shaft bolts (he lost his shaft..). Dave agrees that lying ahull is not normally a good tactic, but he had no other options, and it worked for him. I wouldn't recommend this, beam on is usually the worst way to lie, but it shows that you need an open mind.

I start my storm tactics at the dock before I leave. Mentally I expect to be rolled, that way I am not surprised if it actually happens. And at least some of the lockers will stay closed (because I will have made sure they all have some sort of hold down). I make sure I have the basic gear and an idea how to make some sort of jury rig, because in a rollover the odds are not good that the rig will stay in the boat. I make sure I have confidence in the boat actually staying together. Any specific niggles are dealt with as far as possible, either physically or mentally (I tell myself that cars are much more dangerous..). 

There are always some things that will worry you, That is normal see The wimp, fear at sea . I suppose that's where experience comes in, and the luck. Fix what you can and try not to worry to much about what you can't fix. Remember, the fundamental prioritys, don't do any other nonessential work until these priority's are sorted out.

1 Keep the boat afloat and in one piece (staying afloat also means keeping off the rocks)
2 Keep yourself attached to the boat and uninjured.
3 Keep the rudder attached.
4 Keep the rig up.

If you can maintain at least 1 & 2 from this list you will almost certainly survive any storm. if you are not sure of these maybe reconsider your plans? Not sure who to credit these rules to, I first saw something like this written by John from www.morganscloud.com  many years ago in a magazine and they certainly are spot on.

I know when the boat and crew are ready enough. The key word here is enough, It doesn't mean all the jobs are complete (they never are...), just that the boat is safe and the crew are ready. The crew are familiar with the boat, this is best gained by working on the boat.

On Number 2  Keeping uninjured, I like to have helmets for extreme weather, and some sort of restraining device for my bunk, so even inverted I will not fall out. Quarter berths are good for this, but stick your head up the cockpit end. Lee cloths need to be strong (the only nasty injury onboard was due to leecloth coming undone) , and I like to have another flap that holds me in and protects me from flying sextant boxes and the like.

Enough for today, I have run out of steam, and you are probably bored, I will continue this latter, if my fickle mind doesn't forget and give you more electrical drivel instead.. 

But if you have got this far I have a reward for you, a Video,  I hope it loads OK, I took it from Blizzard on the way to South America somewhere halfway across the southern ocean.  See if you can work out how we were lying and what the wind speed might have been... Its about 3 megs or so, and has a big wave hitting us.


By the way, I think I lost the game (see the video to understand this cryptic remark..)
Cheers

Ben

Friday, February 4, 2011

Videos

Hello,  I have added a video page, to access it click on the video button next to home in the top ribbon panel just under the header, It has a couple of short videos made by my little brother Matt, I think they are very good, but then I am a bit biased... They also show how you can make anything look dramatic and scary if you put in the right music. You can post any comments regarding the videos here if you feel so inclined.

Cheers 

Ben

The wimp and I... Fear at sea

Saw a very interesting  blog on the excellent site Attainable Adventure Cruising. See here for the article. John mentions dealing with fear and nerves at sea. It got me to thinking and I even decided to reply, I think this is a key topic and I hope to add more later. Here is my reply (after abit of tweaking and spellcheck!), but I recommend reading johns piece first.
About to enter the pack ice for the first time..Me and my Father, I hope you can tell I'm the one on the right.. Photo Matt Tucker

Hmmm..
Interesting, and thanks for being so frank about the wimp within.
I can be one of the wimpiest sailors I know, fretting and worrying over small and big things.
But then I have also managed to safely sail a small engineless 26 footer singlehanded across the Tasman in winter (Nelson to Sydney), Sail my 34 footer from Hobart to Commonwealth Bay, Antarctica and run a 60 foot charter boat in antarctic peninsula plus manage numerous dodgy deliveries.

Still the wimp within remains with me, nagging at me and keeping me up to scratch, and so far safe (touch wood).

I am a great believer in John Vigors Black Box theory, a kind of safety Karma thing, if you haven't already heard about it go and look at http://johnvigor.blogspot.com/ and click on the black box theory link at the top.
Thanks to all of you for making me feel not so unusual in my wimpyness. It does makes me wonder if maybe some of the great sailors of the past may also have a similar degree of wimpiness, and if in fact the very presence of Mr whimp is what somehow drives us to test our selfs.

When I first got my Ticket and became Third Mate on a 40000 tonne container ship I started having nightmares about running aground (the real wake up sweating type). When I mentioned this to the chief mate he just laughed and said they were normal “mates mares” and would soon pass as I got used to the responsibility.

By building up my skills and comfort level slowly I have gained an understanding and ability to analyse some of my feelings and know which ones are normal jitters and reactions and can be ignored and which ones signify some subconscious and important concerns that need to be actively dealt with.

However I still envy those happy go lucky sailors that seem to get by with not a care in the world, maybe there is 4 stages,

1 Ignorance is bliss, not even being aware of the dangers
2 Knowing the dangers and fearing them, or fear of the unknown
3 Confidence that you can deal with the dangers as they arise and any unknowns
4 Overconfidence and a fright can kick you back to stage 2

And those fearless sailors are at either at stages 1 or 3.5, or maybe they just lack any imagination.

Cheers

Ben

If you have any comments to add, please consider chucking them up on Johns site, This post is really an extension of his.. Ohhh and a big hello to the three people who have been over here for a look at my amaturish efforts..

Ben