Disaster

May 2, 2014

On Saturday morning we swung through Savannah one more time then returned the car, fueled Flicka and were underway at 11:30 AM, north bound on the ICW. We crossed the Savannah River, joined the Wright River at mark 48 where disaster struck. I ran us dead aground, luckily at low tide. We were very near the mark so other boats were coming by regularly. I got the not so bright idea that we could “surf” off the grounding on the wake created by a passing power boat. One came by and by radio we agreed that he would throw up a bow wave, which he did. The wave lifted us up momentarily, but not high enough. Solution – obviously we needed a larger wave.

So the next boat that came through, a much bigger one, whose captain had heard our conversation with the boat A, happily agreed to throw up a wave. Power boaters go by sail boats all the time. Many slow down as they pass so as NOT to throw large bow waves up, which can be discomforting to those on the sailboat. Some don’t slow down, and this is a constant source of irritation between power and sail boaters.

I’m thinking this guy was thinking, “Finally, I get to blast a sailboat with a big wave”. So here he comes and here comes the wave; a four footer. My supposition concerning using a wave to lift us up high enough to drive off the sandbar sounded pretty fool proof to me at the time – in my head. But after the actual experience I can say with supreme confidence it is not to be recommended to sane people.

The wave was a big one indeed, which we took broadside. Instead of lifting us up, it broke just as it hit us and dumped lots and lots of water into the cockpit, soaking everything including all our guide books. The water washed down the companionway into the main cabin, getting our bedding and lots of other stuff. There was so much water in the cockpit (which drains out via built in scuppers) that I was afraid we were going to swamp and sink, then I remembered we were already setting on the bottom. A five gallon fuel tank broke free (remember to check lashings) and slammed into the aft starboard port light (window) smashing it into pieces, which let more water in the main cabin.

Boat B went merrily on his way. Not to be blamed. After all – it was my idea.

An hour and a half later the tide turned and not much later the flood tide gently lifted us off the shoal, and away we went. We crossed over to the New River at Walls Cut, then up Ramshorn Creek to the Cooper River where we anchored in yet another delightful spot at mile 568 ICW.

The cleanup process took the better part of the rest of the day. Lots of lessons learned, no broken bones or fatalities. Major lesson - let nature take its course and do its job – work with it, not against it. Lash on board tanks better. Listen to wife – no – really listen to wife.