Aug 31, 2024
Glossary of Sailing Terms
Brush up on your nautical vocabulary HERE
FLOAT PLAN:
VESSEL NAME: COSMIC DEBRIS
NUMBER OF CREW: TWO
DEPARTURE: SAN CARLOS, SON. DEC 13, 2023
DESTINATION: LA CRUZ HUANACAXTLE
DISTANCE: APPROXIMATELY 600 NAUTICAL MILES
ROUTE: APPROXIMATELY 160° SSE TO A POINT 15 NM WEST OF ISLA LOBOS, THEN AN APPROXIMATE HEADING OF 142° SE TO PUNTA MITA, TURNING TO 90° E AND ENDING IN LA CRUZ HUANACAXTLE
ETA: 6-8 DAYS
”Fuck,” I yelled. First things first!. We had to heave-to!
Dec 15/2023, 07:00
Position: 25° 20.973N 109° 39.089W
Wind: NW, 25 Kn T
SOG: 5 Kn
Seas: 2-3 Metres
Wendi was on a mission to find our spare litre of hydraulic fluid. I needed to get the bed lifted up to gain access to the rudder post in order to rig an emergency tiller so that we could get hove to, and I needed to do it before we got knocked down.
The aft-cabin in Cosmic Debris is almost entirely occupied by a D-shaped queen-sized bed with some drawers beneath it. Behind the drawers, the rudder post comes through the hull, nearly up to bottom of the bed. There is a small amount of floor space in front of the drawers that runs athwartships. That was where the mess of oil was, and where we would need to have some good footing while lifting the two hundred-pound bed in order to gain access to the rudder post.
I enlisted Wendi to take care of the oily mess while I frantically and unsuccessfully searched for my breaker bar and socket to use as an emergency tiller.
Wendi finished her clean-up, and we lifted the bed. When I saw the rudder post, I knew exactly where the breaker bar was. In a rare moment of clarity, I had stowed it beside the rudder post so that it would be handy when needed. Finally, something to smile about. I pulled it out and looked at it, it never looked so small before.
I knew it wasn’t up to the task of steering a thirty thousand-pound boat in those heavy seas, but there was no choice. I put the socket on the top of the post and tried to turn the rudder–not a chance! Not only was the bar not going to be strong enough, but it wasn’t long enough either. I would need a snipe. I slipped a piece of stainless steel tubing over the handle to give me the leverage I needed.
I ran up to the cockpit to find my bearings and a piece of rope and then returned below to turn the rudder to starboard and secure the make-shift tiller. With Wendi’s help and a little luck, we got Cosmic Debris properly hove-to and sitting nicely in the stormy seas.
Wendi resumed her search for the spare hydraulic oil, while I contacted our friends aboard SV Current Toy. They were in La Paz at the time.
We were not in need of a rescue operation, but I thought it prudent to make sure that someone knew of our predicament. I asked Jordan to contact the Port Captain in Topolobampo to alert them to a situation that had potential for further development.
Being hove-to, we were safer and more comfortable, but questions remained. What if we don’t have that elusive oil? If we do, will it be enough to get us into Topolobampo? If not, will we be able to steer our way in with our emergency tiller set up, or will that break too?
Just then, Wendi appeared at the bottom of the companion way with a new, unopened litre of hydraulic steering fluid and a funnel.
Once we were back underway–under motor power–we were then faced with thirty miles of steep seas coming from the north, coming onto our beam. I chose to hand-steer for the entire trip, in hopes of making the oil last longer by steering less and strategically traversing the waves. I chose a course slightly more northerly than straight towards Topolobampo so that I could ease the helm when needed, in order to avoid the larger waves.
GUIDED BY DISASTER
We had originally intended to visit Topolobampo at some point, but to date, our tour of Mexico had been dictated and dominated by logistical concerns, such as tourist visa renewals, service and parts availability, shipping, and now rushing to meet our daughter.
Our first year in Mexico had been fraught with equipment malfunctions and breakdowns, so it was no wonder that we wound up in Topolobampo due to a breakdown–it seems to be why we end up everywhere and why we stay so long. When I think back to the beginning of our sailing life, breakdowns seem to guide our itinerary through life itself.
We approached the entrance to Topolobampo channel in waning daylight amid a strong, ebbing tide. Following the well marked, dredged channel in, we fought the tidal current for the first mile, before turning towards Santa Maria anchorage. It was fully dark by the time our anchor hit the mud
.
The next day, we moved up the channel, into town and after a brief grounding in soft mud in the channel, just before arriving at the marina, we lost our steering again.
The next day, after getting properly situated in the anchorage, we gathered up our paper work and went to search out the Port Captain’s office to check in.
We arrived and presented ourselves to the Port Captain. He seemed relieved see us, but we soon found ourselves in that very familiar situation where we had exhausted his English vocabulary and, similarly, our Spanish was sufficiently awful that he couldn’t understand us either. Soon, we were all just kind of awkwardly looking at each other with weird little smiles on our faces. Then Nelson walked in–someone had called the manager of the marina, (Nelson) and he came to translate for us.
THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING
Now that our non-stop journey to La Cruz was over, we needed to make a new plan. We called our daughter to let her know what was happening and see what she wanted to do. She started looking into her options for changing her flight, and I began looking to source new seals for the hydraulic cylinder. I called the maker of our cylinders in Vancouver. They referred me to a retailer in San Diego. Their quote was equivalent to more than five-hundred Canadian dollars for two kits. Each kit consisted of a small collection of rubber o-rings.
I called the manufacturer back and asked for a referral to a retailer in BC. They gave me a number for a shop in Richmond, BC. I called, and they had our seals in stock for $50.00 per set. Meanwhile, our daughter rearranged her flight to land in Los Mochis, about a 20-minute drive to Topolobampo. I sent her the address of the shop in Richmond, so she could pick up our seals.
A DISASTER THAT WAS MEANT TO BE
This all came together quite nicely. The original plan was to spend a month in La Cruz with our daughter, do some sailing and touring around the Banderas Bay area, and probably spend a lot of money unnecessarily. Instead, she would sail 400 nautical miles with us from Topobampo to La Cruz, with a stop half way in Mazatlán. She had never been on a voyage like that before and was thrilled with the prospect of having the vacation of a lifetime.
We spent our Christmas and New Year’s exploring Topolobampo while waiting for our delivery girl to arrive. Though we found the people of Topolobampo to be a little stand-offish in the beginning, once they got used of seeing us around town, they became much more friendly.
I had prepared for the upcoming cylinder rebuild project as much as I could while we were waiting for our delivery girl to arrive, so once she was there, we took a slip in the marina, where I rebuilt both hydraulic rams.
On a sunny day, in mid-January, we backed out of the the slip and took Cosmic Debris out for a test of the steering system. Having passed the initial test, we continued on an ebbing tide, down the 5-mile-long channel back to Santa Maria anchorage. We spent the night there before weighing anchor at around noon the following day to re-enter the Sea of Cortez.
Comments
