The Tale of the Last Adventure of Sound Venture (for the 2013 season).

Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from past bad judgments
Will Rogers

Sunday, September 29, 2013 Sitting in the cockpit of our 34 foot sloop, Sound Venture, Pat and I enjoyed our freshly brewed cups of java as we took in the sights of Brewers Yacht Haven marina coming alive as the sun rose Sunday morning. Reflecting, Saturday had been a great day. After my sister had called to say that she and her husband would not be able to make the trip with us due to illness, Pat and I decided to go it alone. This would be the first time we would have taken a trip without a crew, but we felt confident and indeed, it did go well. Yesterday, backing off of our mooring in Hempstead Harbor at 10:30am, we had navigated past, and admired, the many vintage wooden sailboats, some as long as 50, that had arrived to participate in the Heritage Cup Rendezvous and Regatta that would start at noontime. With Pat at the helm, we proceeded out of the harbor and set a northeasterly course for Stamford, CT. Being the beautiful sunny day that it was, the Long Island Sound was alive with all types of sailboats, pleasure boats and fishing vessels. Several clusters of a dozen or more tall sails in the distance revealed that many local club racing regattas were underway. The unfolding scene could easily have been depicted in a Currier and Ives lithograph. Working our way from one navigation buoy to the next we arrived outside of Stamford Harbor at 1:30 pm. Dropping anchor outside of the harbor, we enjoyed a picnic lunch watching nearby anglers engaged in porgy fishing from all types of small fishing boats. After an hour and a half, we weighed anchor and headed into the harbor paying close attention to the narrow channel etched through the East Branch as we made our way to Brewers Yacht Haven Marina. Two dock hands assisted as Sound Venture crept into her assigned slip and, with dock lines secured, our days journey came to an end. That evening we took a cab over to the Ponus Yacht Club for a nice dinner on their outside deck overlooking the West Branch of Stamford Harbor. Unlike our last overnight trip to Northport that featured the steering wheel falling off as I was backing the 34 boat into a slip with resultant chaos and bedlam, no calamities had occurred. It had been a great day. Finishing breakfast and thoroughly relaxed from taking in the beautiful day that was unfolding, it was time to depart, and shortly after at 10 oclock, the dock lines were cast off and Sound Venture backed slowly out of Slip #18, swung left to port, and headed out of the marina as Pat stowed fenders and lines. Daydreaming a bit at how well this trip was going I took a lazy wide left turn to port as I crossed over the East Branch channel. Noticing that I was headed toward a channel marker tower perched on a large pile of rocks I made a corrective right turn to starboard to bypass it. This was a big mistake, one that would change living the dream to a nightmare for the rest of the day. As I proceeded on my ill-fated course at about 2-1/2 knots, Sound Venture suddenly came to a soft stop as I heard that unmistakable sound of the boats keel meeting mud. What the ?!!! Quickly pulling

back on the throttle, I threw the C34 sailboat into reverse and revved the 25hp auxiliary diesel engine to over 3000 rpm. The sailboat didnt budge. Glancing at my GPS a minute too late, I noticed that I was straddling a mud flat. Oh no, no, no!! For the next five minutes I tried freeing the vessel, but it was of no use. The forward momentum of a 6-ton yacht had driven the winged keel (think of an upside down T) like a plow into the muddy embankment at the edge of the mud flat. The tide, already down a couple of feet, was rapidly going out. Oh, that not so nice sinking feeling. Uh, Pat, we have a problem. No kidding. Can we get someone to pull us out? Grabbing the portable VHF radio I sheepishly uttered on channel 9 Brewers Yacht Haven, this is Sound Venture requesting assistance we are grounded outside your entrance Sound Venture, we do not have a work boat available, you will need to call SeaTow. Of course; it was Sunday, they wouldnt have a work boat or crew today (and probably didnt want the liability either). As members of BoatUS, we had some tow coverage with TowBoatUS. Now lets see, where is that number? After a few minutes of unsuccessful rummaging through all sorts of marine related papers in a folder, I checked my wallet and behold, my membership card, with a number to call. I made the call from my iPhone and told the dispatcher my predicament and please, can you send a boat right away to pull me off this mud flat. I then got the bad news. The dispatcher explained that the boat stationed in Stamford Harbor was in Greenwich assisting another boat that was sinking. He went on to say that usually if they can get to a grounded boat due to an ebb tide within 15 minutes there is a good chance they could successfully pull the boat out. Unfortunately it would be an hour before another boat could arrive to assist. By then the tide will have gone down too much for them to be able to do anything. Then the dispatcher spoke the words that I really didnt want to hear You will need to wait until the tide comes back up. We will send a boat anyway to help assess your situation. Uh, Pat, we are going to have to wait for the tide to come back. How long will that be? Uh, well, uh, full high tide is, um, 8 oclock tonight heh, heh WHAT?!!! Well, we probably wont have to wait quite that long Are you kidding? Its only 10:30 AM. We are going to have to sit here ALL day? By the time we get off of this sandbar it will be dark. What are we supposed to do then, Captain? Er, Brewers is a nice marina; we could just go back and spend the night at the dock and head to Glen Cove in the morning? Maybe?

Have you forgotten that the Yacht Club is now closed on Mondays and that there will be no launch service to get us off our boat once we get there? Oh yeah Well, they are sending a boat, it will be here in an hour and we can then figure things out And so as we pondered our situation, we watched the water below us continue to descend. I began to wonder just how far that water was going to drop. The chart revealed just how bad it would be one foot of water at low tide. Our boat drew four feet below the waterline. We were in big trouble. It occurred to me that we could very well tip over at some point. A few minutes later Stamford Police Marine 2 pulled up near our Port side and asked how we were doing (he had monitored our earlier radio traffic with Brewers). Yup, you are good and stuck, the keel is buried in the mud; sorry I cant tow you out, I might damage your keel and I would be in big trouble; best thing is to wait for the tide to come back in and lift you up off of the bottom; Ill stop by once in a while to make sure you are ok; you can call me on channel 16 if you need assistance; Ill also call the Coast Guard to let them know of your situation . Thanks. Shortly thereafter, the Coast Guard hailed us on our VHF radio and asked me to switch from channel 16 to 22. Sound Venture, this is Coast Guard Sector Station New Haven, what is your situation? Coast Guard, this is Sound Venture; I am a Catalina 34 sloop that is stuck in the mud flat on the East Branch of Stamford Harbor just outside of Brewers Yacht Haven marina. There are two persons on board, my wife and I. Sound Venture, can you please give us your GPS coordinates, and are you taking on water? Negative on taking on water, standby for my coordinates. I then gave my Longitude and Latitude position. Sound Venture, how did this happen? I pondered the answer to that question. There was no way to sugar-coat this, so I confessed: I was stupid. I paused as I pictured the serviceman laughing at my answer well at least give me brownie points for being honest I thought. At this point the tide is going out and we are going to have to wait it out until it comes back up high tide is 8pm. Okay Captain. If its okay with you we will call you every half hour on channel 22 to check on your situation Thank you Coast Guard, Sound Venture out

At 11:30, TowBoatUS arrived. Your boat is completely out of the water Captain; you are standing on your keel. So we are making like a flamingo standing on one leg? Yup. You got a winged keel that is buried in the mud; its just holding you up like a pedestal. It occurred to me that the keel was 6500 lbs. of lead, a little more than half the weight of the entire boat. Wondering about what might lie ahead, I asked Tide is still going out for another couple of hours, what are the chances that the boat will still pretend its a flamingo rather than falling over? Well, hard to say. Ive seen boats like your just stay upright. No water is supporting the bottom of your hull and you havent tipped over yet. The wind is light, so you might just do it. On the other hand, you might still go over. You want to stay on the boat or get off? There was no way I was getting off of this boat. It occurred to me that once off, how would I get back on again once the boat re-floated? The boat could be dashed onto the rocks or saved by a salvage company, and under maritime law, would be willing to sell me my boat back. Pat, do you want to get off? Not relishing the thought of us suddenly plopping over, the First Mate nodded in the affirmative with a look that said it all I want off this boat! I, too, thought that this was the wisest decision and I lowered the stern ladder. The TowBoatUS captain nudged the narrow bow of his boat toward my stern ladder, but came up short by about a foot and a half due to his boat scraping bottom. Being highly motivated, Pat grabbed her purse, a bag of knitting, a sandwich from the refrigerator, gave me a kiss and, despite her recent recovery from a broken foot, vaulted the stern rail, scampered down the stern ladder, and without hesitation, bridged the gap between boats, sat down on the tiny bow and waved goodbye as the TowBoatUS vessel scrapped bottom backing away. With raised eyebrows, I have to say I was duly impressed. I was also glad that she was off the vessel; if we rolled over it would be an ugly scene. Stay in the middle of the boat and dont walk around too much was the departing words of the TowBoatUS captain as he ferried Pat over to Brewers Dock #4. Great I thought as I looked over the side. The water was indeed way under the boat bottom. Could a Catalina 34 really stand on its keel this way? Sound Venture, Sound Venture, this is Coast Guard Sector Station New Haven Go ahead Coast Guard, this is Sound Venture Sound Venture, what is your status? Are you in the same position? Are you taking on water? Over Coast Guard, this is Sound Venture. I am quite stuck in the mud and have not moved anywhere nor am I taking on water; I am, in fact, high and dry on my keel, making like a flamingo! That is, I am upright,

amazingly standing on my winged keel. Be advised that my wife has been removed from the boat by TowBoatUS Roger, Sound Venture. Contact us on channel 22 if your situation changes, otherwise we will call you again in a half hour. It seemed like a death watch. I wondered if they were taking bets on how long I was going to last this way. Nonetheless I was glad they were keeping tabs on me. And so, after securing some loose items, I settled in the cabin to wait it out. It was going to be a long day. The iPhone rang it was Pat calling from the dock about 100 yards away. You are quite a sight the whole boat is just standing on the keel above the water. Yes, its quite amazing actually the boat doesnt feel shaky either. Well, I sent you a picture, take a look. Glancing out the cabin windows I watched a parade of boats going up and down the channel that I so cavalierly decided not to use. With few exceptions, everyone had out their phone cameras recording for all posterity my, oh so avoidable, predicament. I was todays entertainment for the masses. Once again the VHF radio sounded off Sound Venture, Sound Venture, this is Coast Guard Sector Station New Haven. Have you changed positions? Are you taking on water? Coast Guard this Sound Venture, no position change, I am stuck fast, standing upright high and dry on my keel. I am giving everyone a Kodak moment. Roger, Sound Venture. We will call you again in a half hour, Coast Guard out And so it went. At one point an inflatable dinghy with two men came nearby and, without judgment, sympathetically asked if I had enough food and water to last this ordeal out. I was good in that department and thanked them for their thoughtfulness. I wondered if they had a similar past experience.

At 1:45pm I began to study certain rocks for signs of the anticipated flood tide that would signal the return of the sea and a reversal of my ill-fortune. And, right on time, the rocks and mud slowly began the long waited submersion. As the afternoon progressed, the welcoming sound of water lapping against the underside of the hull meant that if the boat hadnt fallen over by now, it was not likely to. At 4 oclock, Pat called to say that she had finished knitting three hats and that my prop was now fully back in the water. I now made preparations for that moment when Sound Venture would break free of its earthy shackles. Dock lines and fenders were put out for when I would go over to Brewers Dock #4 to pick up Pat. A guy watching from nearby Dyke Park yelled out Put out two anchors. I waved thanks to him and continued about my business. I knew what he was referring to and the suggestion was very late in the game. A high and dry sailboat has a chance of not tipping over if an anchor is placed on each side on an angle from mast halyards. This is a technique that might work, if, early on, you have a dinghy and crew for moving out and setting the anchors, and you have the time to do it. I had none of that nor was I about to upset the apple cart moving all about. Besides how would I go about undoing all of that while single-handed? As a precaution, I did rig a stern anchor for fast deployment, but for a different reason. If I was unable to start the engine when the rising tide broke the Catalina free, I would need that anchor to keep the boat from dashing against the rocks while I went forward to place the bow anchor. At 5pm, the local TowBoatUS, back from several vessel assists, stopped by to check on how I was doing. Well Captain, the water is almost up to your water line in the stern; you got about 8 inches to go at the bow. You want to try starting your engine? Eager to know if the sea gods decided that I was punished enough for my imprudence, I set the throttle, turned and held the key for 15 seconds to get the glow plugs warmed and pushed the diesel engine starter button. I was rewarded with the sweet sound of the engine purring to life. I smiled for the first time in almost seven hours. A Minuet rhythm from my iPhone announced that the First Mate was calling. Can you ask the Tow Boat guy to come over and pick me up? Pat coming on board meant that we would save about 15 minutes doing a pickup from the dock. With the likelihood of freedom looming, we were now thinking about getting home rather than staying another night at Brewers Yacht Haven. As it was, with sunset around 6:40pm we would be traveling and arriving in Hempstead Harbor in the dark. At 5:15pm I decided to give a try at breaking free. Revving up in reverse, the mud flat was not ready to give up its prize and I decided to wait a little longer. The tide was rapidly coming in and 10 minutes later the TowBoatUS captain and I decided to give it another shot. This time he looped a line around my midship cleat and we jointly revved up our engines in reverse. Pat was the first to notice, Were moving!! With that exclamation, Sound Venture slowly released itself from the mucky tentacles that had it in its grip since the morning. Taking no chances, I continued in reverse as TowBoatUS released the line to my cleat. When I was quite clear of the mudflat, I shifted the diesel into forward gear,

turned left to port, and with a big wave to the TowBoatUS captain I followed the channel path that should have taken at 10:30AM. As we motored south along the East Branch a big cheer came from the park. Looking right in that direction, we saw a line of people waving and applauding our final victory. It was good to be finally on our way. Coast Guard, Coast Guard, this is sailing vessel Sound Venture; we are free of the mudflat and heading to our destination, Glen Cove at Hempstead Harbor. Sound Venture, this Coast Guard Sector Station New Haven. Roger. We will continue to monitor your progress until you are safely home. Thank you Coast Guard, Sound Venture out. With plenty of time to kill waiting for the water to rise, I had plotted our homeward bound course, a straight diagonal line across the Long Island Sound to Hempstead Harbor; once we cleared the mouth of Stamford Harbor, the Catalina was brought to its new compass heading of 230 degrees and the autopilot was set. The Eldridge Pilot Book indicated that the current would be with us, so I could anticipate getting a boost of an extra knot of speed over ground. At least something would be in our favor. An hour into our trip we were treated to a great view of the sunset and by 7pm we were traveling in the dark. Looking all around we were remarkably quite alone. We could only spot the navigation lights of a few, far away boats. Our own presence was now marked by red and green bow lights plus the white mast mounted steaming and stern lights Peering ahead into the black ink night, we had our only encounter with another vessel when it appeared as a dark silhouette of a small anchored fishing boat, with its lone white anchoring light dead ahead of us which necessitated a course correction to starboard to avert collision. Two hours into the trip the blinking green light of navigation buoy G21 welcomed our arrival to the entrance of Hempstead Harbor. I was glad that I had familiarity of these waters, since without any moonlight, it was incredibly obscure. With the knowledge of a protruding jetty with a hard to see marker light that needed avoiding, I relied heavily on the GPS to guide me to the mooring field in Mosquito Cove. Entering the quiet mooring field at 1 knot, Pat went forward with our hand held 2 million candlepower search light and scanned the surface ahead. Previously invisible mooring balls and attached boats illuminated nearby; it was rather eerie as we wound our way through the field unmasking vessels with the light in search of our final destination, mooring GM134. Finding the mooring ball, Sound Venture

slowly made its downwind approach and came to a stop as Pat grabbed the pick-up buoy and attached the pennant lines to the forward horn cleats to secure the Catalina. Home at last! Coast Guard, Coast Guard, this is Sound Venture. We have arrived at our Hempstead Harbor destination. Sound Venture, this is Coast Guard Sector Station New Haven, have a good night, Captain. Thank you for your assistance Coast Guard. Sound Venture out. This should have been the end of this story. But the adventure wasnt quite over yet. It had been a long day. We were tired and looking forward to the offered dinner at Pats brothers home in nearby Sea Cliff. Quickly we secured the boat and our belongings and I radioed for the launch that would get us ashore, Hempstead Harbor launch, this Sound Venture, requesting pickup. The expected acknowledgement was not forthcoming. Checking to be sure that I was on VHF channel 72, I again transmitted, Hempstead Harbor launch, this Sound Venture, come in Silence Peering through the darkness toward the HHC yacht club building about 200 yards away it appeared to be deserted. The launch was not at the dock either, which suggested that it had been placed on its mooring for the night. A pair of headlights in the parking field beyond the club house came on and then moved away. Then I remembered that the club had just switched to off-season hours. Instead of Sunday launch service that lasted to 10pm, it was now 8pm. My watch showed 8:15pm. We literally had just missed the boat. If I had thought of this a half hour earlier, I could have radioed ahead and the club would have held the launch for us. But I didnt; and they didnt. Crap, now what? I thought. Feeling a tad deflated, we looked at each other and considered our new predicament. Spending the night on the boat was not much of an option; the launch service would not resume until 9am on Tuesday. Looking in the direction of Sea Cliff, I also thought of the dinner we would miss. Nope, sleeping overnight was not going to work for us. Well, Pat, we could go over to Brewers, leave the boat at the fuel dock and have your brother pick us up. The thought of pulling out our stowed dock lines and fenders, setting them in place, restarting the engine, releasing the boat from its mooring and then picking our way back out of the field avoiding the dozens of ghost ships playing hide and seek in the dark, motoring up the narrow Glen Cove Creek at night, and docking the boat at Brewers Yacht Yard was not something we relished.

Maybe my brother will have an idea Pat offered and with that she gave him a call. Rob, also a member of the HHC club, said he would be right over. There was another alternative, but we would still need to get our dock lines and fenders setup. 15 minutes later, Rob gave Pat a call to say he had reached the yacht clubs dock and we backed away from our mooring and headed his way. From the helm at the aft end of the boat I couldnt see Rob in the dark and shouted out over the engine noise to Pat who was stationed, once again, at the bow Is Rob on the dock? Yes!. Until we were just feet away from the pier, I actually couldnt see him. Once secured, Pat disembarked, along with our overnight bags and Robs plan unfolded. Painter tow line in hand, Rob tugged a small club dinghy around the end of the dock and handed me the line to tie off on a stern cleat. Jumping aboard, we released the dock lines and headed back to the mooring. With the whole area deserted, Pat stood watch at the dock in case our plan ran afoul (somebody needed to be around to hear our potential drowning yells for help and call 911). At the mooring ball, we once again stowed the dock lines and fenders and re-secured the vessel. Bringing the dinghy alongside, I had, for the first time, got a good look at it as I peered down in the darkness over the side. This was a really small rectangular wooden boat. It seemed to be about 7 feet long by 3 feet wide with about 1 foot of freeboard. First Rob, then I, gingerly dropped down to it, hoping that it didnt tilt over or push away as we got in. I had donned a life-jacket; Rob, I didnt get this far today to only lose it in the end. With short 3 foot oars, Rob moved the tiny craft around Sound Venture and headed to the dock. Musing about where I was and what I was doing, I shook my head as I thought about that moment of inattention and bad judgment that lead to this moment. It was going to be hard to live this down. I was glad that the harbor was calm. We needed to dodge a few empty moorings that loomed up in the darkness and soon we arrived at our destination, disembarked, pulled the dinghy up and flipped it over back to its original resting spot on the clubs work dock. Finally our ordeal was over! As sympathetic sailors who had their own trials and tribulations over the years, Rob and Kathy were gracious dinner hosts and appropriately offered libations to help smooth over the days events. Sound Venture is now at Brewers Yacht Yard in Glen Cove for the winter and I look forward to next years adventures. One thing is sure to happen on all future trips. Prior to any departure, I am going hear the Admiral command: Captain, check the charts and GPS before we leave.