17 April 2011 Odd yachtie seen off Narrowneck Beach.
Tonight, after a great day fishing and feasting off Narrowneck with friends aboard, the wind is forecast to blow to 35 knots, and a gazillion knots in the morning when we wake up. Hello winter. We are anchored in the lee of the charming Doc protected Motuihe Island in the Hauraki Gulf in 8 metres of water with 30 metres of 8mm galvanized chain shackled to a big steel plough that was made by the builder of our boat 20 years ago. I suspect that he had access to some pretty good engineering stuff, as the anchor generally never budges. It is a good secure feeling being anchored to the sea bed while the wind generator whines and the wind howls in the rigging. The picture above shows a twin pile of chain. One dirty and the other, shiny new zinc.
Washing fetish on boat.
Today I end for ended the 70 metres of chain to double the life of the galvanizing. The dirty end had come to its fag end of life and is destined to remain at the bottom of the heap as its shiny opposite end zips in and out of the chain locker around the bays. This is the first time I have done this in 9 years of cruising NZ waters. I have an odd habit of washing my chain and letting it dry on deck before committing it to the locker. This rids it of salt and will greatly lengthen the life. Why am I bothered?
New vs refresh.
Firstly, this length of new chain cost me $800 from memory. When new, the galvanizing lasted about 12 months of cruising in NZ, Tonga and Fiji. Maybe an aberration, but I just presumed the manufacturers were not interested in the expense of good quality hot zinc dipping. Off to the galvanisers in Whangarei then, which cost me $600. ‘Wow!’, you think. ‘Not good value there considering the cost of new chain.’ However the new galvanizing lasted another ten years of cruising which included a global circumnavigation. Yep, washing and drying it all the way. Which means a longer time afloat, sailing, fishing, diving, yakking, tramping and sitting here bashing at the keyboard.
The Quaternary Period.
Oh, and while at it. We use chain because of the greater caternary (‘Word’ instructs me to write Quaternary) effect of chain alone compared to rope and a length of chain. It is not the strength of the chain that is important, but its effectiveness at lowering the anchor end of the chain to a near horizontal position. Today in strong winds I have 5 X depth, but normally have 3 X depth.
Peak Oil.
Here’s another tip. When building your dream boat, get that windlass into a position so that the chain drops into the locker and heaps up below without building up to jam the entry point. I use a Luddite-inspired manual windlass that provides much-needed right arm biceps exercise. Besides that, it enables us to gracefully and silently sail off our anchor position. Peak oil will vindicate the use of such technology.
Horror story in the river.
And who had been keel-hung? This occurs in a tidal stream that changes direction and the rope gets caught up around the keel, putting you broad-side on to the current. (Usually at 2 am.) You wake up to a strange sensation taking place. Solution: Buoy the bitter end of your anchor warp, drop it over so it clunks under the keel, hopefully not getting caught in the propeller stuff, and letting it pop to the surface. You then grab the spotlight and start your motor to retrieve the whole caboose before resetting it and getting back to sleep at 3 am.