New-gen Anchors are Now-gen

I must admit that before I told the proponents of so-called “New-Gen” anchors to get off my lawn I had a moment’s hesitation. Could there really be something new that would make me give up  tried-and-true options like my CQR and Danforth anchors that had kept my boat’s secure through many blows? 

Frankly, I am a bit of an experimenter when it comes to anchors. Before setting off on a two-year voyage to Panama and back I purchased a little-known option to grace my boat’s bow, a Bulwagga. Based on mostly a few vague test reports and the strong testimonial of a friend who was using one I took a leap of faith, which indicated I had some lingering doubts in the back of my mind about the traditional equipment used in many anchoring dramas. Drama is not something you want when anchoring!

Old Faithfuls

First, it has to be recognized that there is a lot more to anchoring than simply tossing over the latest design that is touted to compensate for your inadequate technique. People like the Hiscocks, the Roths, and the Pardeys have managed to blunder around the world many times using the “Old Faithfuls” like CQR, Danforth, and even the Bruce. The latter I have never had respect for after having personally fended off quite a few boats dragging down or scraping along my sides while supposedly “anchored” with a Bruce. There are those who swear by (instead of at) the Bruce, but it should be noted that they always recommend an enormous size.

I will admit that some anchors are probably great, if you are allowed to use twice the weight! However, my wife, who usually lowers the hook, doesn’t agree. Most of us prefer anchors that offer great holding power at a reasonable weight that can be readily handled by a short-handed crew. I was reminded of this in a remote part of the Caribbean when we met a couple onboard a large trawler yacht that were in a pickle. Their enormously powerful windlass had packed up and they were unable to haul their 150-pound anchor onboard. The nearest possible repairs were over 200 miles away. A bunch of cruisers formed a human windlass and hauled the anchor up, then wished the couple “good luck” as they set off for a non-stop trip to safety with only a single chance to anchor if required.

A New Kid on the Block

It is not clear where or when the New-Gen anchors arrived on the scene. Some will argue that none are really new--only developments of ideas that had been tried previously, but now combined into a new paradigm. In any case, I believe the person who possibly coined the term “new-generation anchors” was Peter Smith of New Zealand, the designer of the original Rocna anchor. He at least popularized the term, and he started a new battle in the anchor wars that have raged since someone tied a rock to a rope and compared it to his friend’s inadequate rock.

I’m a veteran of several anchor war skirmishes, but have since retreated to a safe anchorage where I try to remain neutral. Unfortunately, my refuge anchorages are frequently invaded by barbarian hordes sporting archaic steel weapons on their bows. Based on many unwanted close encounters in squalls, thunderstorms, tropical storms, and gales I have become an anchor voyeur--carefully examining, while trying to look nonchalant, the weaponry displayed when others seek safe anchorage near my boat. I peer out of my pilothouse with binoculars at the inadequate appendages on your bows, and begin to mutter under my breath when I see something truly embarrassing. In recent years I have begun to notice that the difference between meeting someone at 2am as they drag past and having a good night’s sleep is often related to the vintage of your hook.

What brought me to this? The answer arrived in a mysteriously flat box one day. My new Mantus anchor came disassembled, but was quickly put together with several ordinary bolts, nuts, and washers. If nothing else, the sheer genius of creating a take-apart anchor had me nearly won over. One can easily imagine the advantages of being able to stow a spare, taken apart, down below, or possibly keeping that great big storm anchor somewhere deep in the bowels of the boat for that one time you need it.

Why the Mantus? In addition to the take-apart advantage, the Mantus had all the cool stuff that the new-gen gurus were writing about: a large and scoopy spoon-shaped fluke with a very sharp point, an arched shank and big rollbar designed to always flip the anchor upright into its burying position, and a relatively thin shank to aid deep penetration. It also features strong construction with no hinge, and all sorts of bragged about geometry that sounded wonderful.

Fortress: www.fortressanchors.com

Knox: www.knoxanchors.com

Manson: www.mansonanchors.com

Mantus: www.mantusmarine.com

Rocna: www.rocna.com

Spade: www.spadeanchorusa.com

As someone who has anchored successfully in all weather with anchors designed back in the first half of the 20th century I am not easily impressed by hype. I had to try for myself. One of my first experiments with the Mantus was on a night with lightish winds, but in the Taunton River with a strong reversing current. We spent the evening anchored with a large fleet watching July 4th fireworks off of Fall River, Massachusetts. Most of the boats were on short scope, and the best anchoring techniques had not been used in the rush to get to the beer coolers. Of course the wind picked up after dark around the same time the current reversed, and the two forces opposed each other. The anchorage became a mess of boats of all sizes and types spinning in all directions with crews pulling up dragging anchors. Through it all the Mantus stayed put with no fuss, though we too had anchored in haste with little thought to setting for a blow. A modest test, but good to know.

Subsequently, we have Mantused our way around Southeast New England for several years, testing the anchor out in a variety of familiar places where we have anchored many times with the barbarians using old-gen equipment. Cuttyhunk is one of my favorite spots. We know the harbor, the bottom, and how anchors perform there. I have anchored inside hundreds of times--it’s easy because I just drop my anchor in the same hole I have been using for decades! In reality, it can be a challenging anchorage due to many weedy areas, almost never enough room to let out adequate scope, changing winds that can reverse in the middle of the night unexpectedly, and the proximity of numerous other boats that may not be all that familiar with the whims of how to properly use ground tackle. In this anchorage we have been t-boned in the night by a dragging four-boat raft up, we have anchored through numerous gales, tropical storms, and Hurricane Bob, and we have tested many popular anchor types: Danforth, Fortress, CQR, Bulwagga, and now Mantus.

Though we anchored routinely with the Mantus for several years before getting caught in a big blow, the first real test came in the Columbus Day Weekend gale of 2016. It wasn’t a survival storm, but we had solid 40-knot winds with higher gusts for many hours. The Mantus held firm with no dragging and no fuss, though our anchor chain snubber line did break in the middle of the night. It was the first time that had ever happened, indicating it was a pretty good test of our anchoring gear.

The Devil is in the Details

Since that experience, and after numerous other minor blows, I have gained tremendous confidence in my New-Gen anchor. But why is it better than my old CQRs and other traditional gear?

First, that very sharp point definitely aids penetration, especially if the bottom is weedy or a bit hard. We always lower the anchor carefully until it reaches the bottom. We then let out chain gradually, with periodic snubbing as the boat drifts back on the wind. Very soon after getting our new anchor we noticed something different in this process. Almost from the time the anchor is on the bottom there is a solid bite. There is never any squishy feeling as you often get as a plow-type anchor does its thing and plows along the bottom. The Mantus just penetrates right away. Because of this, it is not a good idea to dump the anchor and chain and then let the boat fly downwind until it comes to a sudden and abrupt halt--you might break something!

The second thing we noticed early on with the Mantus is that there is a slight possibility of fouling the anchor by dumping it abruptly to the bottom, allowing the chain to loop under and catch on one of the “ears” where the big hoop is bolted to the anchor. It doesn’t happen often, but we have managed to foul the anchor a couple of times. Once you get used to the usual solid and early bite the anchor makes you will be able to tell if something is wrong, because if it isn’t you get that squishy feeling from the old plow anchor days. Other anchors with hoops, like Rocnas and Mansons, do not have bolt-on hoops and would not suffer from this problem.

Despite the early and strong bite these anchors make we still try to lay out adequate scope of at least 5:1 with all chain, or more if there is a big blow. However, many times I have had to shorten things up in places like Cuttyhunk as the harbor fills up and others begin to crowd around. I feel pretty secure on as little as 3:1 in ordinary wind conditions, and we have never dragged once the anchor has been set in a mud bottom. Set it by backing down hard at 5:1 scope and you can almost immediately shorten things up if you need to. We have also used the Mantus in sandy mud, shelly conditions, smallish rocks, and extreme weed with good success. This is a truly universal anchor, though I can’t claim experience in pure sand as is found in the Bahamas and Caribbean.

The aforementioned hoop on the Mantus is larger than on some other New-Gen.  anchors. I am not certain, but it seems this aids in shedding mud and weeds when weighing anchor. The large scoop-shaped flukes on these anchors tend to bring up a big ball of muck and junk at times, and I have noticed that some of the non-Mantus designs are a bit harder to clean in this regard. The bigger hoop means there is more space between the hoop and the flukes.

A bonus with the hoop design is that it makes for the perfect handle to use when manhandling the anchor off and on the bow roller or moving it around deck. The lack of a hinge between the shank and the head, like the CQR uses, also makes the anchor much easier to physically move around. The hinged designs always flop one way or other, inevitably pinching fingers and banging shins.

The thin shank of the Mantus definitely does aid in penetration, compared to some thick-shanked designs like the old CQR. I have observed both anchor types when on the bottom, and the CQR shank was often on its side and not really buried, while the Mantus does tend to roll upright and dig downward. Strangely, despite burying well I have found that when you are retrieving the anchor it comes out of the bottom much more easily once the boat is right over it. After a big blow it would sometimes take an hour or more to pull out a CQR and I have spent half a day pulling Fortresses and Danforth anchors out of the bottom. Not so with the Mantus.the 

Another touted feature that we have proven in real-world testing is the amazing ability of New-Gen hooks to reset when the wind shifts. Cuttyhunk is notorious for sudden shifts in the middle of the night when a land breeze overwhelms the prevailing sea breeze. We have been through many 2am anchoring drills when a zephyr of a southwest wind turns into a honking blast of northeast off the land. Needless to say, the many boats on short scope due to inadequate room and poor technique often go whistling away in the dark. If possible, we try to anchor with nobody behind us for this very reason.

In any case, we have found that even these complete reversals in a matter of moments are handled well by the Mantus. We’ve also been through quite a few big thunderstorms with winds clocking around from all directions, often more than once--no problem! These New-Gen hooks just reset with the clever combination of the big hoop keeping the pointy end pointed down, the sharp point aiding quick penetration, and the thin but stiff shank with no hinge forcing the anchor to rotate to face the new direction. 

Another New-Gen anchor that doesn’t use a hoop, the Spade, gets away with it by having a very heavily weighted tip that makes sure the point stays down. Though I have no direct experience with a Spade I have observed several anchoring upwind of me and they seem to do well overall, with one or two dragging incidents observed. I’m not sure if the point and head area is a bit too blunt for weedy bottoms, and maybe the lack of a hoop does make penetration iffier. There are not a lot of Spade anchors in the wild to be observed in comparison to the hoop types, so it is harder to draw conclusions. I’ll have to experiment with one some day!

Anchoring Perfection?

About the biggest negative factor with the Mantus is that it doesn’t fit on my bow roller arrangement all that well compared to the traditional anchors that existed when the boat was built. The long, thing shank reaches a bit further back and doesn’t allow me to easily snug the anchor up tight to the roller. It is bad enough that I remove the anchor and wedge the hoop into my bow pulpit at times to prevent the anchor from bashing around. At other times I use lashings to keep it in place. However, I suspect it would fit well on a roller arrangement that was designed for something like a Delta anchor (fixed shank plow type).

You might be tempted to try a New-Gen anchor that is one size smaller than your old-gen, but I don’t see the point. If your anchoring windlass and other gear is sized for a 45-pounder you might as well use a 45-pound New-Gen and gain extra holding power. It will rarely be needed, but it is nice to know it’s there.

If you need something lighter carry a couple of smaller Fortress aluminum hooks. They are not really “new-gen” anchors since they are refined versions of the older steel Danforth anchors dating back to the early 20th century. In many independent tests the Danforth and Fortress pattern anchors offer the most holding power per pound in straight-line pulls (when properly dug in). They make fantastic secondary anchors for when you need to kedge a boat off the ground, or for creating a Bahamian moor, or for rowing out in the dinghy with a long rope rode when a big blow is suspected. However, they do not reset reliably in dramatic wind shifts, and they are more finicky to get set in the first place. They are also very difficult to retrieve once they’ve been buried after a big blow. They are notoriously bad in most weedy bottoms. A belt-and-braces approach to anchoring is to carry more than one type of anchor for different conditions, and the Fortress is a great complement to a New-Gen main anchor.

Bottom Line

Binocular peeping has convinced me that when someone is anchoring upwind I want them to be using a hoopy New-Gen anchor; however, I can understand the reluctance to give up on a tried-and-true old friend that you have dragged around anchorages all over the world. I have been there, done that, and decided to move on. There are several different brands and types of New-Gen anchors, but I don’t think you can go wrong with one of the popular designs with a hoop. I have observed good performance from Mantus, Rocna, Spade, and Manson. The Knox is another interesting looking design from a Scottish company, but I have never seen one. I’m sure there are others equally as good or better, but you may want to start your new-gen experiments with one that has a well-known track record. Choose one that fits your boat, your eye, and your wallet, and give it a go! 

To ease the transition I suggest putting the New-Gen anchor on the bow, but keep the old-gen lashed on deck nearby, just in case. It will make a great toe stubber!

This article was published in the January-February 2018 issue of Ocean Navigator.

Wisdom of the Snowbirds

After the recent disasters of Irma and Maria in the Caribbean and in Florida many are wondering what can be done to protect their boats during Hurricane Season. Well, #1 is to not be in hurricane prone areas in the first place! We have been spoiled by relatively quiet hurricane seasons for several decades, and many boaters have forgotten the wisdom of the not-so-ancients who would never venture south of Cape Hatteras/Norfolk before November 1.

Today we are seeing harbors like Marathon in the Florida Keys packed with boats in August and September when they used to be nearly empty. It was inevitable that a big storm would come along and demonstrate why the old wisdom was to stay north until after November. This is the wisdom of the snowbirds.

When I first started heading south from New England in the 1980s this snowbird wisdom was ingrained in the boating public. We all headed to the Chesapeake for the big Annapolis boat shows around Columbus Day, then meandered south down the Chesapeake to Norfolk around Halloween time.

Yes, we did occasionally encounter the late-season hurricane in those years, but we weren't trapped in a place like Marathon with few alternatives but to ride it out and hope for the best. Between Virginia and Florida there are literally thousands of "hurricane holes" up winding creeks, and with modern forecasting and the usual week or so of warning most boaters can move several hundred miles up or down the ICW to get into a better position.

I understand that many boaters in places like Marathon consider it "home," and if you have a job or kids in school it is very hard to leave when a hurricane is headed your way. But, I can't beat around the bush--that is a bad plan for your life on a boat!

Some estimates are that 75% of the boats in Boot Key Harbor in Marathon were either sunk or blown ashore. I'm not sure accurate numbers will ever come out, but the general scale of the problem was dramatically illustrated during Irma. Marathon is not a good place to spend Hurricane Season!

Get off the Dock in a Hurricane

Your boat is almost always better on a mooring and/or on anchors than at the dock in a hurricane. Docks feel solid and reassuring in normal conditions, or even in pretty severe storms, but the difference in a hurricane can be storm surge. The photo was taken during Hurricane Bob with our boat at the time, Echo, on a mooring with anchors out in Cuttyhunk. Only three boats in the harbor broke loose, and they were all due to either inadequate mooring lines or too little scope. One boat picked up its mooring and dragged it ashore. If they had put out 50 feet of line the boat would have been fine.

Why were we there? Simple, the storm was predicted to go right over us, or very close, and the storm surge was predicted to be 10 feet or more. I think we had close to 10 feet. The fishing dock and the ferry dock were under water in Cuttyhunk. Four-wheelers and large propane tanks floated off of land and drifted by us. A small shack floated by, roof upside down, like a boat.

If we had been tied to the fixed docks everything would have been under water. Lines would have to be either impossibly tight, or terribly loose. Even if our boat didn't break loose or float off other boats would have, and they would be right next to us. Watch the videos from Irma of boats sinking in slips, tied securely to pilings and docks, due to collisions with the marina infrastructure or other boats.

Yes, if your are on a mooring or anchor your lines could break, and your anchors can drag. But, at least your boat is pointed into the wind and seas and it can have a chance. When tied up to a dock you are at the mercy of the wind direction and how well your neighbor has prepared, and how well the marina has maintained everything. But, get a 10-20 foot storm surge, and nobody is prepared. At anchor or on a mooring your boat has a chance. Add extra lines and extra scope and the boat can rise with the rising water.

Give your boat a chance in a hurricane.

Hurricane! Secure Your Car

With Hurricane Irma bearing down on the Leeward Islands and a landfall in the USA looking very possible as of today, I thought of doing a blog post on hurricane preparation. It is an important topic, but today I will review an equally important subject for boaters: what to do with your car during a tropical storm.

Seriously, your car is often extremely important both before, during, and after a storm. It is likely to be how you get to your boat in the first place, assuming you aren't living aboard. It may be your escape hatch if the storm proves to be too threatening or if the worst occurs and your boat is damaged, aground, or possibly sunk. Third, once the storm has passed your car may be the only means to escape the damaged area, and it will likely be your lifeline to obtain food, water, and repair materials.

Keep the car filled with gasoline, if possible, and consider storing some spare water and supplies there. My trunk always has things like jumper cables and even a small starter battery that doubles as a cell phone charger. Being able to escape a wet, damaged boat and possibly even spend a night in a dry car with a charged cell phone might look pretty good after a storm. You may even consider storing some important valuables in the car, if you can find a great spot to leave it.

The other day I heard a great tip while watching a weatherman talking about the flooding during Hurricane Harvey in Houston. He said check out your height above sea level by using the compass app on your iPhone. My Android phone doesn't come with a native compass app, but there are many in the Play Store and quite a few do include height above sea level. I'm still researching which ones are good and which ones prove to be accurate, but this can be an extremely valuable piece of information to have when thinking about where to put your car. Protection from wind and debris will mean nothing if the car is flooded--seek higher ground!

This often means abandoning the marina parking lot, which is frequently located strategically right next to the docks and the harbor--not the place to avoid damaging storm surges that come with hurricanes. In New England, one can often walk inland a couple of blocks and you'll notice that you are going uphill. Florida, not so much. In fact, it may not be possible to find a place immune to tropical storm flooding within a reasonable distance from the marina. If that is the case, consider parking garages that allow you to go up a floor or two. These tend to be strongly built structures which may also provide shelter from the wind, and more importantly flying debris.

Until you have experienced a hurricane or two it is hard to appreciate the dangers of debris flying through the air. Maybe you have noticed that people cover large building windows with plywood sheets. Think of your car windows enduring the same pummeling. However, don't even think about trying to cover your car with any sort of normal cover. It will either shred in the storm, and/or flap so much the car's paint will be ruined--probably both.

I actually search for parking opportunities that allow me to either point the car into the wind or go stern (rear bumper) to, and downwind of a large, sturdy structure made of concrete. If you park close to such a structure, with the nose of the car up towards a wall, it can prevent rain from driving into the engine compartment under the force of 100 mph winds, and anything that is blowing through the air will be blocked.

Believe it or not, these types of parking opportunities are something I note during the boating season. Where can I park the car, nearish my boat, with protection from likely storm force winds, high enough above sea level to be safe from flooding, and also a place that the car can be left without fear of being towed or broken into? It can be tough to find such a place, so start making mental notes as you explore the area near a new marina or mooring.

Further Thoughts on Going Aground!

I was reading a great Panbo post on a grounding in Camden harbor, and it reminded me of some things to think of when dealing with groundings. Panbo, by the way, written by Ben Ellison, is the best boating blog about marine electronics there is, and a must read about everything boating too.

Why do we go aground in the first place? I believe #1 on the list is loss of "situational awareness." What exactly does this mean? Think of the U.S. Navy ships getting run down by commercial vessels in Asian waters, which unfortunately has happened a bit too frequently lately. Here are ships presumably equipped with not only the latest in navigational equipment, but also crewed by extremely well trained and disciplined teams of people who should know exactly what is going on all around them. Yet, two large ships collide with good visibility and no apparent reasons why. What happens?

#1, I am convinced, is the great demand put on everyone to monitor all the amazing navigation equipment we have nowadays. Think of all that gear, people staring at screens, punching in coordinates, noting courses and bearings, monitoring radios, listening to commands, etc., etc. No matter how well trained, how well equipped, or how well disciplined there is only so much information the mind can process and at a limited speed too. Couple that with night vision being ruined by staring at brightly lit screens, while also being constantly distracted by people coming and going, coffee being delivered, and all the whatnot that goes on with many people around and it is a recipe for disaster.

How does this relate to us ordinary Joe Blows sailing the coast in small boats? The same exact problem can rear its ugly head. I was sailing offshore behind a large catamaran that was equipped with all the mod cons, including radar, chart plotters, etc. Offshore the watch stayed below watching videos while assuming that various alarms would alert them that something needed actual attention. However, even if the alarm worked, it takes a few minutes to scramble out of the cabin, and then your eyes aren't adjusted to the dark, and it is very easy to turn the wrong way, let go of the wrong line, or trip over something lurking in the dark. I had to call this boat on the VHF repeatedly to warn them they were sailing directly into the path of an enormous cruise ship, lit up like a city, miles from land, traveling at high speed and likely on autopilot. The alarms didn't work, the crew wasn't watching, disaster was close at hand.

Entering some crowded gunkhole you may have to deal with the same issues. The depth sounder alarm starts blaring painfully, your wife is shouting something from the galley, the chart plotter is glared out in the sun, the harbormaster is yakking about something on the radio, boats are jammed all around on moorings, people are board sailing and paddle boarding across the channel, your dinghy painter is too long, the engine is overheating, and your hoping to get anchored in time to catch the water taxi. Your boat comes to a sudden stop and your brain is crashing due to sensory overload. Where exactly am I? Why have I come to a crashing stop? Is that the bilge alarm going off? What is that cruiser shouting at me?

In other words, too much information, too quickly. Just like on those Navy bridges. But, what is the answer? You don't want to abandon the chart plotters, radar, VHF radio, depth sounders, etc. I often find that the simplest answer is often the best. Reduce clutter. Turn off depth alarms. Use a printed chart that you can see in bright light and won't be at the wrong scale. Turn the VHF radio way down or maybe even off if it is a distraction. Reduce your speed--create more time for your brain to process all the information. The other day I was sitting on the beach next to a popular channel when a big boat approached at high speed, then suddenly throttled way down, actually went into reverse, did a 360, then entered the channel at dead slow and under control. I admire that skipper for suddenly realizing that life was coming at him way too swiftly and a little bit of patience would probably make the day go much better. I have gone so far as to tell guests to stop talking to me and/or realize that I may or may not answer. If they ignore my suggestion, I just ignore them. Better to be a social outcast and afloat than the life of the party and aground!

Aground!

OK, you've gone aground. I always say if you haven't gone aground you haven't gone anywhere. Typically, there is no need to panic (is there ever?). The first step is to check the state of the tide, if you don't already have it in your mind. If it is falling, you have to work quickly. On the other hand, maybe the tide is on the rise, where patience becomes a virtue.

Hopefully, you've chosen your cruising boat so that it has a hull shape and underbody that can take the ground with reasonable safety and without any major damage. I have been on a full-keel sailboat that piled up on solid rock--boulders actually--and managed to nestle down amongst them with no major damage. A sharp fin keel with exposed rudder and prop might not do so well. A catamaran can usually rest upright with little fuss.

Many feel an urgent need to call for a tow, with the likely prospect of a $1000 bill or more, and the potential for greater damage. I have witnessed many a boat get pulled off a grounding by powerful engines and lots of skill, but with inevitable damage, when simply waiting for the tide would have done nothing more than scrape off some bottom paint.

Yes, there are situations where the tide is falling, possibly the wind is driving you ashore, and maybe large waves are pounding your vessel. Maybe, that is the time to call for a tow, but keep in mind the inevitable cost and potential for disaster. Most of us try to avoid with extra care any close calls with the bottom when there is any hint of a dangerous wind or sea, so hopefully your grounding will be like most: in a sheltered spot where waiting for tidal help will suffice.

Of course, I would always make sure to put out an anchor in the direction of deep water to both help pull the boat off when the tide rises, and also as insurance in case the prop is fouled or damaged. You may be surprised how much power you can generate with a well dug in anchor leading back to a powerful windlass and/or cockpit winches. I have literally dragged my boat back into deep water when the engine wouldn't budge her. Sometimes, all it takes is a little steering with the anchor line to get the boat pointed in the right direction. And, other times, the best route out is backwards, with the anchor line leading off the stern.

Having a dinghy handy with a portable depth sounder can be a great help. My dinghy has long oars that allow me to poke around and find deep water quickly. A boat hook or even a mop handle can do the same. You don't need lots of extra water--just enough to float your boat.

A tow should be your last resort, whether by your own dinghy or someone else's boat. Chances are that most of us don't have cleats strong enough for the strains of a serious tow, and rigging extra lines and such is time consuming if you are in a rush. Heed the first paragraph--a falling tide means you need to work fast. Sometimes all you need is a lightweight anchor that can be taken out quickly in a dinghy, and you can be back afloat in five minutes. I have performed this maneuver many times when my own engine wasn't enough.

Some people recommend hauling a sailboat over using a halyard as a way to reduce draft. In my experience this is both very difficult to achieve and also likely to break something, and often fails too--a trifecta of hopelessness! First, you need a big powerful tow boat to heel your boat over, and it has to be shallow draft and on scene. All of those things are unlikely to be present. And then you need a very strong halyard and mast, and hope it doesn't jump the masthead sheeve and jam permanently, if it doesn't break first. This all assumes that you can arrange everything quickly enough to avoid the falling tide--if the tide is rising, why bother? Of course, this idea doesn't work at all if you have a catamaran or powerboat.

A grounding is a situation where your first actions need to be swift, deliberate, and appropriate to the particular set of circumstances. Calling for a tow is usually not the first, second, or third option that should be tried. Good luck!

Broken Anchor Snubber!

UPDATE SEPTEMBER 2017: Upon doing further research on causes for mooring pendant failure I learned some interesting things about failure in nylon line. The Coast Guard has conducted extensive experiments with regard to the longevity, strength, and failure modes of line in order to evaluate its use for mooring buoys. The bottom line on the testing was that there is degradation in strength with time (duh!), and that failure can be sudden and catastrophic when the load on nylon increases rapidly from zero to more than 30% of the line's rated breaking strain. Translating that to my broken 3/8" snubber line. If the ABYC guidelines are close by a factor of two for the strain on a boat like mine in a 42-knot gale (2400 lbs), it is not surprising that a line rated for 3,000 pounds might suddenly snap, especially considering its vintage. Loads well above 30% of rated capacity may have been experienced.

I've anchored in Cuttyhunk hundreds of times over many different seasons. I like to joke that I just drop my hook in one of my old holes and I know all will be well no matter what. I've ridden out one full hurricane, Bob, and numerous close brushes by other hurricanes, tropical storms, nor'easters, etc.

Though some rate the holding as iffy there, I know that if you can get your anchor well set in a muddy spot there is plenty of holding power for anything. Knowing a lot about this harbor, its bottom characteristics, and what it has meant for various generations of my own anchoring gear this is a nearly ideal testing ground for new (to me) anchoring equipment.

A few years ago I acquired a Mantus 45-pound anchor for my 38-foot motorsailor, and I have been gradually testing it during my cruises in Southeast New England. I have been impressed with its nearly instant setting, and its ability to reset when the wind shifts. It holds well on shorter scope, is reasonably easy to handle on deck due to the hoop that forms a nice handle, and it is easy to break out once you get right over the anchor.

Of course, the ultimate test of an anchor is how it performs in a blow. The test came over the Columbus Day weekend in October 2016. We were the only boat at anchor in the north part of the pond, though there were a few boats on moorings downwind of us. One advantage of Cuttyhunk as an anchor testing ground is that the nearby Buzzards Bay tower provides an accurate report of wind speeds. The Columbus Day gale showed peak speeds reached into the low 40s (knots)--not a survival storm, but a good test of a main anchor.

I like to know my main anchor and typical anchoring setup is easily capable of holding my boat in a real gale of wind, without the need to resort to special storm techniques. Having this capability covers 95% of the nights at anchor an average cruiser will experience, and provides a good base to build upon when you find yourself in a more serious situation. Even in a comfortable anchorage in the summer, with good shelter, there is always the possibility of a thunderstorm popping up, and with the ability to hold into the 40-knot range you will usually be fine.

The setup
Backing up the well dug in Mantus was 100 feet of 5/16" HT chain, then another 200 feet of 5/8" three-strand nylon rode. I have found that 100 feet of chain means that I am nearly always on an all-chain rode in the shallow anchoring typical along the East Coast of the USA. We eventually had out most of the chain in only about 10 feet of water, so scope was not an issue. I have various snubbers available, but for the night we started out with a 3/8" three-strand nylon line, tied to the chain with my own version of the rolling hitch, and leading back to a bow eye just above our waterline. This takes the load off any deck equipment, provides plenty of bounce to prevent snatch loads, and also lowers the angle to the anchor. In this case, we had more than enough scope out for maximum holding.

I have used a similar arrangement for decades with various other anchors, so I know what to expect. Fortress aluminum anchors, genuine CQR plow anchors, Danforth steel anchors, and a Bulwagga have all held us securely in similar conditions, backed up by similar equipment. The 3/8" nylon snubber would be considered undersized by many, but I have found it provides the right combination of elasticity, strength, ease of deployment, and knot security--I have tested one so much I know it will work. A similar rig held firm in winds up to around 100 mph in Hurricane Bob.

In the October gale the Manta did fine. There was no perceptible movement and when we hauled the anchor up it was so deeply embedded in the bottom that something would have had to break for us to move. As it turns out, something did break--the anchor snubber!

Of course, the snubber snapped in the middle of the night (which is often when anchoring snafus happen), alerting me by the sound of the anchor chain working hard on the bow roller and the boat jerking back a bit on the bar-taut chain. Working by flashlight on deck I quickly deployed another snubber using a chain hook, let out a bit more chain, and we were back to riding comfortably. Using a boat hook I fished over the side to pull up the broken end of the snubber that was still attached to the bow eye of our boat, and I discovered that the line had snapped in the middle. I was surprised by that, since I assumed that if the line were ever to break it would do so at the knot on the anchor chain or where it was spliced onto the bow eye. Nope, the line just exploded in the middle!

I can't ever recall that happening before, indicating this was a pretty strong blow. The line was not the best to begin with, having been purchased on clearance at a bargain store. And, it had lived on the bow, in the sun, for several years, but it had also survived numerous lesser blows and even several pretty intense thunderstorms of unknown strength. My guess is that there must have been a tiny nick in the line of some sort that lead to the failure at that point, though if you look at the photo it seems to indicate a pretty general failure.

Breaking strain
The breaking strength of 3/8" quality three-strand nylon is north of 3,000 pounds, but I suspect my crummy rope was much lower. My guess is the strain might have been in the nature of 1,500 pounds or so. A decent pull, but not a survival storm. I do find it interesting to be able to get some idea of the loads involved, even if the measurement is quite crude. I know the max load that line should be able to hold is up around 3,000 pounds, setting the upper boundary, and I suspect the lower limit would be about 50% of the line strength due to the knot holding the line at one end, the splice holding the line at the other end, and the age and condition of the line. Also, a 1,500-pound load is reasonably close to the old ABYC calculations for a 40-foot sailboat in a 42-knot gale (2,400 pounds).

Some have reported that rolling hitches are prone to slippage under high strain. My destructive test proved that to not be the case, though my rolling hitch is not typical. Mine is sort of a cross between the icicle hitch and a rolling hitch. I take multiple wraps around the chain, then multiple half hitches to secure the knot. Using traditional three-strand nylon this type of knot has been slip-proof for me.

Lessons learned

First lesson: I was very happy with the holding provided by the Mantus anchor--no muss, no fuss, no dragging. Did its job.

Second lesson: My old standby 3/8" nylon snubber proved once again that it is plenty for a 38-foot motorsailor up to gale conditions, but it would be better to use quality line in good condition. I am convinced if the line had been of a better quality nothing would have happened. No-name line purchased at a bargain store, used for many days at anchor in all conditions, and left in the sun for several seasons is not the best!

Third lesson: Tieing on a snubber line works well, even in high winds, if you use the right knot. My modified rolling hitch once again performed well. Yes, chain hooks can be more convenient and would probably work well in most conditions--I frequently use one myself--but when things get bad I prefer the proven reliability of a knot that will hold the snubber on the chain no matter what without damaging the chain. Using a knot eliminates several points of failure, and also means it is easy to come up with snubbers of various lengths, strengths, etc. It is easy to tie on another during the worst of the storm, if necessary.

Fourth lesson: Loads experienced during a gale can be quite significant, though I believe they are significantly lower than are predicted by the ABYC guidelines.

Fifth lesson: Once again I learned that having multiple backup snubbers is critical, along with the means to deploy them. I now have rigged up a very heavy duty snubber that would have more than twice the breaking strain and should be good for more than gale conditions, but I still like using that lighter line off the bow eye for typical anchoring. If it does break for some reason, it is relatively easy to tie on another from deck level then let out some more chain until the strain comes on the line.

Anchor Links

I've written a lot about anchors and anchoring over the years, and here is a compendium of some links to take you to some of that stuff along with other great articles on the subject.

• 2018 Five-Step Anchoring
• 2018 New-gen Anchors are Now-gen
• 2017 Broken Anchor Snubber
• 2015 Getting Attached
• 2015 Anchor Test in the Chesapeake
• 2015 A True Number Two Anchor
• 2013 Other Anchor Considerations
• 2012 Think Storm Surge
• 2012  Mantus: A Folding Anchor
• 2012 Think for Yourself
• 2011 Anchor Connection Wrinkle
• 2011 The Good Ol' Days?
• 2011 It Wasn't a Drag
• 2011 What Happened to Lightweight Anchoring?
• 2011 Are New Generation Anchors Any Good
• 2011 New Generation Anchors?
• 2011 Can You Afford to Go
• 2006 Life on the Hook
• 2006 Goodbye to an Old Friend (our CQR anchor)
• 2006 Anchor in the Middle
• 2006 After One Year
• 2006 Testing a Bulwagga Anchor

Email Two-Step

You’re anchored securely in a tropical lagoon you used to dream about...Then the “real world” drags you back. No matter how magical the anchorage there comes the time when you have to dinghy ashore to seek out Wifi and an Internet cafe so you can pay the bills, find parts, check in with family and friends, and if you are really courageous, read the news.

Today, voyagers enjoy a multitude of Internet benefits that make managing your real-world life much easier, but there are also new concerns to be aware of. Your boating online life will center around email. Almost every bill can be received via email. Many things that formerly were very difficult for voyagers to receive come via email. In addition, an email address is the necessary identifier you are using for everything from online banking to getting access to your online photos and calendar.

Like many of you, I have had a Gmail address since they were only available by invitation. Many years of my online life are referenced in gigabytes of email stored there--along with tons of sensitive information. The dilemma of online and cloud life is that it can be both tremendously useful and tremendously dangerous at the same time. All of that convenience comes with the danger that not only can you access your digital life anywhere, but so can the mythical 400-pound hacker lying in bed in New Jersey.

The 2FA Two-Step

“Ah, Ha!,” you say. “But, I have a password that is so strong even I can’t type it accurately, and I have turned on two-factor authentication!” The idea behind 2FA is great: you not only need something you know (your password) to log in, but you also need something you have (your smartphone) as a second step. A lot of us do this all the time: generate a code via an authenticator app or wait for an SMS text message to arrive, and then away we go looking up last year’s tax returns, grandma’s social security number, or transferring money between bank accounts. Google (and others) highly recommends we all use 2FA wherever possible, and so do I.

Back to the tropical lagoon. You zip ashore in the dink, find a cool Internet cafe with Wifi, fire up the computer, maybe connect via a VPN for extra security, then you try to log into Gmail. The GMaster recognizes you are not logging in from Podunk, Iowa, then promptly prompts you to use your authenticator app. But wait, you lost your phone four weeks ago when you dropped it in the harbor as you were hauling the anchor in the Galapagos. OK, that means no SMS messages either. OK, how about those backup codes you printed out and stored safely someplace on the boat? The question is where did I put those dang (substitute appropriate language here) things!

Luckily, your wife, smart person she is, remembers exactly where those codes are--in the safe deposit box in Podunk. Great, now what? You’ve got backup email addresses and phone numbers set up, right? Well, one is grandma’s and she never checks her email and has forgotten her password. You discover this by making an expensive call home, waking her in the middle of the night, and then waiting ten minutes for her to find and put in her hearing aid. The other backup is your wife’s phone number and she cancelled that when you set sail. You get the picture.

You are a Product, not a Customer

Now comes the fun part. Remember all that great free stuff Google gives you? It isn’t free. In exchange for letting you enjoy the Internet good life Google mines that life for everything you are worth. Many of us put up with this in exchange for Free, Free, Free! Since all of this free stuff costs billions of dollars to create, maintain, and secure Google has cut expensive support to the bone. Good luck trying to reach a human being to explain your problems to: “I’m on a sailboat in the South Pacific in this beautiful tropical lagoon sipping Pina Coladas in a waterfront bar and I need help getting into Gmail.” Luckily, there is no way to reach anyone to tell your embarrassing sob story to. Instead, start filling out online forms that ask you for all those things we just identified as being unavailable to you: your phone number (sunk), your alternate email address (grandma can’t access), your wife’s phone number (cancelled), your codes (in the safety deposit box), etc.

Sound far fetched? Do some Googling around and you will find many horror stories, including some from people who were never able to regain access to their Google accounts. In my own experience you can easily get locked out of your Google account when traveling overseas for even short periods of time. I flew to Australia and was staying in a nice hotel with Internet access, but Google, in its wisdom, determined I was logging in from an unusual location and blocked me. At the time I was using SMS for 2FA and my phone number wouldn’t work in Australia. My backup email and phone were my wife’s and I couldn’t reach her easily because of the time (and day) difference, my printed codes were safely stored at home, and the phone and service I purchased locally was requiring me to click on some activation link they had sent to my Gmail address that I couldn’t access! I eventually sorted out the problem, but was never able to get into my work email account because their security settings were such that all access was blocked from foreign locations.

Searching for Holy Grails

There is no (metaphor alert!) Holy Grail full of magic bullets to solve the security vs. availability paradox, but there are some options that can help. First, it is important to turn on and use 2FA on whatever important accounts you have: email, banking, investments, taxes, Amazon, PayPal, etc. Personally, I’m not so worried about many other logins: forums, clubs, memberships, etc. Social media accounts can be very dangerous, especially if you’ve used that convenient option to login to other accounts using your Facebook or other profile. Just the life details that can be mined from social media can make you very vulnerable to online attacks. For example, your Facebook account may very well contain the answers to some of those annoying security questions you have answered: the name of your first pet, your mother’s maiden name, etc.

Hopefully you agree that strong passwords and 2FA are important. Use a password manager too, so you don’t have to remember those strong passwords and also so you can use unique ones on every site. Those steps are just basic Internet hygiene.

There are ways to mitigate the Gmail problem. First, consider using an alternate email address that you control, not one that might be out of your control (like grandma’s). Keep in mind the possibility that it might also be very hard to get into this alternate email address due to the same factors that are blocking your access to the main account. For example, your alternate address for Gmail should not be another similarly secured Gmail account! You may want to consider using a relatively insecure email address with no 2FA turned on for that alternate address. Just be careful to never use that insecure email address for anything important. Make sure you keep the password to the alternate somewhere you will always have with you, or make it one you can never forget. Have all messages from the insecure account forwarded to your secure account too, just in case someone is trying to reach you that way and to alert you if for some reason the insecure account is hacked.

The insecure account can be very useful for general communication purposes if you have the discipline to never use it for anything that would be of interest to the 400-lb hacker. Most of us aren’t that careful and don’t have the spy’s ability to maintain two online personalities. At home I have an old phone plugged in and logged into an old email address I stopped using year’s ago. I am frequently surprised, not in a good way, at the important emails that show up from the old address. For example, one utility company still sends my bills to that address in addition to my current email address. I have tried to get the old address removed numerous times and it never works. Which brings up an important point--any email address you use must be secured to a level appropriate to what vulnerable information might be collected there. Consider closing old accounts that you no longer use--they create chinks in your online armor.

Think really carefully about backup phone numbers. For example, in the past I have caught myself using a work number that unfortunately couldn’t receive text messages--whoops! Similarly, don’t forget to check the numbers securing your account periodically. People move, change numbers, die and then you’re sunk. Another problem that should be obvious is the difficulty in reaching someone back home, in a different time zone, who is possibly not able to access the phone or email you have provided. Many cell phones are unable to receive calls from areas outside the home country, or sometimes calls from certain countries are blocked. Other times you can’t get call backs from someone using only a mobile phone because they don’t have the ability to call out of the country. Anyone who has voyaged knows the situation well. I tell loved ones and friends, “Don’t worry unless you hear from me.”

The Code

Google’s backup codes could be a good answer, and storing them in printed form somewhere onboard is probably a good idea if you will never forget and the location is reasonably secure. I wouldn’t put them anywhere near anything with my email address on it--just in case you happen to be pickpocketed or your boat is ransacked. Here’s what Google says about backup code use from here: https://support.google.com/accounts/answer/1187538?hl=en

Basics of backup codes

If you lose your phones or otherwise can't receive codes via SMS, voice call, or Google Authenticator, you can use backup codes to sign in. Follow the instructions below to generate backup codes. You can also use these codes to sign in if you don’t have your Security Key.

The codes come in sets of 10, and you can generate a new set at any point, automatically making the old set inactive. In addition, after you’ve used a backup code to sign in, it will become inactive.

We recommend you store your codes wherever you keep your other valuable items. Like the codes on your phone, backup codes are only valuable to someone if they manage to also steal your password.

Despite what Google recommends, I don’t think backup codes should be stored where “you keep your other valuable items.” Imagine what life would be like if your boat was ransacked. You would need to quickly go online to change passwords, secure bank accounts, possibly transfer money to replenish stolen funds, etc. With your backup codes stolen life might become even more difficult. Instead, consider the “plain sight” method of security. There are many great ideas out there such as storing codes on a card in the middle of a deck of cards. With this type of trick you have to be careful not to accidentally give away the pack of cards, or forget where you put it. I bought a boat once that had foreign currency (not much) stored behind some ceiling panels. I found it when I was rebedding some deck fittings. Obviously, the previous owner had forgotten about the hiding place--don’t let that happen to your codes! For some things like this I put them in a location that I know I periodically access, reminding me at intervals where the secrets are hidden. Your secret location is worthless if it is so obscure that even you forget about it--just like a password that is so strong even you can’t type it in accurately!

One Size Fits Nobody

Like most things in life, Internet security is not a one-size-fits-all situation. You need to explore your own security vulnerabilities to find a solution that works for you, but you do need to think carefully about these things before you leave the real world behind with its ubiquitous connectivity that can be both convenient and a trap.

This article first appeared in Ocean Navigator magazine. Check it out.

No, You Don't Get What You Pay For

I have resisted publishing this post for purely selfish reasons--I get paid for writing articles for boating magazines. Unfortunately, the dominate theme in almost every current publication, whether paper or digital, is how you can throw money at a problem (or a perceived problem) in order to make it go away. You know the shtick: 10 Ways to Make Some Simple Problem Go Away (each one costing $1000-$10,000); The Boat of the Year (how to spend $250K and up); or my favorite, The Latest Styles to Make You Look Like a Catalog Model!

I understand the problem. The Internet destroyed the advertising model that supported magazines for years, meaning all of them are chasing a vastly smaller pool of revenue that is determined solely by clicks. Plus, the boating industry was simply destroyed in the economic crash of 2007-2008 and has not recovered, meaning that advertising revenue has declined by 50-100% for most publications. However, I would argue that does not mean that the only route to survival is to suck up to your advertisers while insulting your readers.

OK, I am old and old school. I come from when people started small, learned how to fix up old boats, gradually worked their way up to coastal sailing and maybe local cruising, and then maybe purchased a bigger (but usually older) boat to sail off over the horizon. However, we all read books by the Pardeys ("go small, go now"), the Hiscock's (sail around the world on $5000), Bernard Moitessier (just do it), or the Roths (fix your small boat yourself on the beach in Patagonia). That stuff isn't even mentioned today and most of those books are out of print.

Today, you read about how to purchase your first 45-foot yacht for "only" $500k, but be sure not to leave harbor until you have installed $50K in electronics and $50K in safety equipment and $50K in gew gaws to make life afloat just like living in Trump Tower. Gold plated seacocks are the best!

I am reminded of a super catamaran I got to inspect at the dock--brand new, from a top designer, with nothing but the best equipment with no expense spared. I marveled at the quality of everything, but the boat wasn't going anywhere until the networked systems were fixed. I spoke to the technician who was totally baffled by why nothing was working properly. Yes, he had all the wiring diagrams. Yes, all the equipment was installed per spec. Yes, the owner was spending $1000 or so per day to have technicians crawl all over the boat.

I instead went off sailing on my old boat, cruising the coast of Maine, only to read later about this boat's ongoing problems that prevented its departure on the planned world cruise. Sure, my boat didn't have wind instruments networked with the depthsounder and the holding tank monitor, but I was enjoying the boat and off Downeast instead of tied to a dock with invoice writers crawling all around.

My point is that you can be anchored in a gorgeous spot in Maine, the Bahamas, Tonga, or the Mediterranean, enjoying the sunset after a fascinating day ashore, or you can be tied up in a marina paying bills for technicians to try and figure out why the chartplotter thinks your boat is in Kansas. Don't be that boater anchored in Kansas!

Charting Electrics

Electronics are wonderful as long as the electrons keep flowing, but they are useless once the power ends — and it always does eventually! The trick on a boat, particularly one in a hot saltwater environment, is to keep those electrons flowing from the boat’s batteries through various connectors, wires, switches, fuses, etc., to the right places and to not get sidetracked or blocked.

Isolate
There are several unique factors to keep in mind with regard to charting electrics. It is not the same as wiring up a new light over the chart table! First, I have found it is important to isolate the electronics circuits from possible major surges caused by things like engine starting or windlass grinding. I have witnessed various electronic devices turning themselves off or on due to power surges, and low voltage is never good for sensitive electronics. Luckily, most modern electronic devices can handle a wide range of input voltages, including low-voltage situations, quite well.

On my boat I have a small fuse panel that resides right in the battery compartment. It is connected directly to the main large battery bank at the opposite end from where alternator and solar charging juice gets brought into the bank. Batteries act as filters for voltage spikes and a large house bank of batteries is fantastic protection. A very short fused lead connects the small electronics fuse panel directly to the battery bank. This panel is “always on,” meaning I only disconnect it for maintenance purposes. An entirely separate battery is used only for engine starting, which is usually the No. 1 routine action that can cause power spikes. Of course, the two battery banks can be combined using switches if required, but in normal operation they are kept separated with only a trickle charger from the main bank keeping the starter battery topped up. Normal starting only uses a tiny bit of capacity from the starting battery and if you are routinely draining that battery for some reason, your engine and/or starting system needs work.

Remain connected
I have learned through hard experience that it is far better to keep your electronics attached to power than to disconnect them. Many devices have small internal batteries that maintain critical memory, and those internal batteries can be difficult or impossible to replace. The job is also expensive and must be done by the factory in many cases. One issue I have right now is that my VHF radio lost its programmed MMSI number one winter when I had it disconnected, and the only way to have it restored is to send it to the factory — the repair charge would be greater than the radio is worth!

Some will argue that a fuse panel should not be in the battery compartment due to corrosion issues from batteries gassing and that the panel can’t be isolated using the main battery switch. All I can say is that I have used this system for decades on several different boats and have never found a serious corrosion issue. Your batteries should not be gassing that much anyway! If they are, it is time to closely examine your charging system.

Safety first
Concerning not being able to isolate this panel using the main battery switch, I don’t consider it a serious safety issue. First, there is an inline fuse in the short wire from the batteries to the panel; second, each individual power line is fused in a position that is very close to the battery. Most of the lines also have fuses close to the electronic device. The wires and fuses are very small, so in the event of a catastrophic short somewhere along the line, either the fuse or the wire will burn out very quickly.

The “always on” electronics fuse panel provides other benefits. When there is an electrical emergency in some other part of the boat, you can safely turn off the main battery switch and know that critical navigation and communication devices will continue to work. Think of the situation in a boat fire. You might quite rightly believe that the electrical system is to blame, so you flip off the main switch as the boat fills with smoke and then you try to call the Coast Guard only to find the VHF radio isn’t working. You then grab a hand-held radio and reach someone who can help, but then you can’t tell them your position because the GPS and chartplotter have been knocked out. You want to keep critical electronics running as long as possible in an emergency situation.

Of course, when it comes to most things on board, it is important to have backup systems that don’t depend at all on the main boat electrical system. I don’t go anywhere without a small, hand-held GPS that runs on regular alkaline flashlight batteries — no rechargeables! I want this GPS to always be available no matter what and, in my experience, small rechargeable batteries are not reliable, have much less capacity than advertised and have relatively short lives. Good old alkaline disposable batteries, on the other hand, last for years on board and it is very easy to carry enough to last years. They are available everywhere in the world too. I have a hand-held VHF radio that can take ordinary alkaline batteries for this very reason, along with a hand-held depthfinder and even an old hand-held RDF! Even in today’s world with few navigational radio beacons, there are almost always commercial radio stations or airport radio beacons that can be homed in on when all else fails. In any case, think through how you would navigate if your main batteries were gone for some reason — it will happen!

This article first appeared at Ocean Navigator. Check them out!