Publish Date: Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Location: New York, New York
Coordinates: 40° 47.035′ N 73° 59.303′ W
Today was our day to depart from New York and cruise north on the Hudson River, heading toward Troy, where we will enter the Erie Canal. The weather was cold and rainy with patchy fog, which wasn’t very good boating weather. Fortunately we have a nice warm pilothouse from which to drive.
We had been out less than an hour when we heard a “clunk” under the boat, and I could feel something hit our propeller. I immediately dropped the throttle and put the boat in neutral, and Kathryn went out to see what might float out from under the boat. We saw a couple small pieces of wood in the water, but we didn’t think they could have caused what we heard. I slowly put the boat back in forward, and we could hear a cyclical “clunking” sound. Rats! Either the propeller or shaft was damaged, or something was wrapped around it. Kathryn went down to the engine room to check the shaft and stuffing box to make sure we weren’t taking on water, which we weren’t.
So there we were, drifting down the Hudson River in the rain, partially disabled. We started up our wing engine (which we test regularly), and I was able to get the boat under control. We were just south of the George Washington Bridge, so we decided to limp back to the mooring ball at the 79th Street Boat Basin to assess the situation. Picking up the mooring ball was a bit of a challenge with limited mobility and steering, but Kathryn managed to get us attached on the first try.
Once we were secure it was time to go swimming… in the Hudson… in May — oh joy! I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be able to fix whatever the problem was, but at least I could assess the situation so we could decide what to do from there (i.e., should we hire a diver, or go to a shipyard to have the boat hauled out?). I donned a wet suit, attached a safety line (the current was very strong), and lowered myself into the brown soup. The water was about 50 degrees, and the visibility was no more than 6-12 inches. I was able to feel my way down under the boat with my hands, find the rudder, and then the propeller. Sure enough, there was some sort of heavy line wrapped around the propeller and shaft. This was not ideal, but it was better than having a severely damaged propeller and/or shaft.
Peter proudly displays the flotsam.
Given the visibility, the water temperature, and the current, we decided to hire a diver to help us remove whatever was wrapped up in our running gear. The marina recommended Hemingway Diving, and we talked with Peter (he is Hemingway Diving) who said he would be able to come over in the afternoon when the tidal current was slack. He arrived right on schedule, donned his scuba gear, and was soon in the water. In three dives, taking about 15-20 minutes, he was able to cut and untangle an eight-foot piece of dense, knotted, commercial mooring line from our propeller and shaft. It must have been floating just below the surface, and we ran right over it. What are the chances? Before Peter left we started up the main engine and tested forward and reverse, and everything seemed to work fine. Peter was great, and we were very lucky he was available and willing to help us out.
We’ll try to escape from New York again tomorrow, keeping our fingers crossed that there was no permanent damage to our propeller and/or shaft (we should be able to tell from the sound and feel of the vibration when we get underway). In the mean time, it is Cinco de Mayo, so it’s time to make a margarita and enjoy the New York skyline. Every day is a new adventure!
Oh no, what a story! sounds like snake pliskin on a bad day – glad it was an easy fix and not alot of damage. I could just see you getting into the 50 degree murky water.. yuck -o-la. you are right about the everydays an adventure.
Hope tomarrow in 100 times better than today, and it gets sunny and warmer for you folks. We really enjoy following you, throguht the good times and the bad.
Gary & Tom
Hi Family, Todays weather sounds much better for a second try at leaving the Big Apple. I watch the Today show after Gary leaves and I had hoped to see you all in front of Willard Scott. Your schedule is only one day behind so far. Good luck on your second try.Dad
Hi Besemers: Really enjoying your site. Good to see you have the right attitude for minor setbacks. Gotta go with the flow when you are on the water! In canal waters, keep an eye out for stumps floating around. Keep up the good work on the site.
[…] a busy week, we have left New York Harbor and are heading north up the Hudson (see David’s blog on Ayla and David in Times […]
[…] blog, Snag in the Plan, tells about our hiccup trying to leave New York Harbor. I wanted to add my two cents about working […]
[…] David’s Voyage Blog « Snag in the Plan […]
(Herb & Sarah referred 3@C to me.)
Once (long ago) off of Bimini, I was the only equipped scuba diver in our party of eight aboard a pair of 30-ft Sorel’s. When motoring, our boat was consistently faster than its twin, so ‘our’ procedure was to get ahead and cut the engine and wait for ‘them’ to gain, pass, and advance, then start ‘our’ engine and catch up, etc.
Some notion took us one day to go ashore on a small uninhabited island. Which happened to have a breakwater reef about 100 yards off the sparkling sand beach we were intent on basking on. ‘Our’ boat ran along the reef to its length, came about and then up into the calmer lengthy ‘open-sided’ lagoon (if that’s the nautical term for it). ‘Their’ slower way arrived second, also arrived heedless of the reef, and made straight for the calm where ‘we’ were positioning to disembark.
So ‘they’ hit the reef, and in crossing broke the bolt attaching the winch cable to the centerboard, (which then swung free to full draught).
Just as in your photo, David, I suited up and splashed under, and managed with a spare U-bolt (borrowed from the sail rigging somewhere I forget), did re-attach the cable to the centerboard … and we all sailed happily ever after. But that’s not the end of my story.
I removed more than 20 feet of 1-inch line wrapped around ‘their’ propeller shaft and splayed between blades of the prop. After that, both boats motored at comparable rates. of knots. But wait, there’s more.
As I worked wrenches on each end of the bolt, making the attachment, I kept one arm wrapped around the centerboard, so that I ‘bobbed’ up and down with the worksite as the boat rode on the rollers. (As opposed to floating at a constant depth and having the centerboard drop into reach and then ‘bob’ up out-of-reach, which is how I started, which didn’t work.) Bahamian waters are much clearer than the Hudson, so I kept watch, hugging the centerboard, while wrenching mightily, (another story about equal-and-opposite-reaction in weightlessness … another time), and within about 5 minutes there appeared, approaching 100 feet toward me, two slender long silvery ‘menace-bearing’ fishes, (did I mention slender, and long), which I thought to observe better from below, the seabed, about 4 fathoms straight down. As quickly as I could get there, without causing commotion. Also, perhaps not causing exhaled air bubbles, which, actually, when I noticed, was stuck on that last inhale about a half-minute ago ….
The pair of barracudas circled above me one lap and went on along the reef at their original heading. At the same time I glanced down to see my two flippered feet were about to enter a bed of tall waving seagrass, or seaweed, or sea anemones, or sea-I-don’t-know-what because I can’t see in there, and my knees hit my chest as fast as a reflex, and exhaling restarted, rather abruptly.
But wait, I thought I better, (wait), here on the bottom a minute, to watch for any more or returning long slender silver stalkers. Right over there on that round circle of sand where no seaweeds grow. And where sting rays hide under, as my flippered toes found out, just before I kneed myself in the chest again, and the inhale-exhale business got relatively confused.
Later, I emphasized to ‘their’ boatload of fools the reason for breakwater offshore and the reason ‘they’ were bringing me more Schweppes and Beefeater.
A fair number of people say lots of ocean-going vessels only have one engine. And we all know the Lugger engine will run 20,000 hours. So why have a wing engine?
I think the three of you know why. If you did not have a backup plan, I think things would have been much more exciting.
Drifting off to sleep is peaceful.
Drifting in the rain down the Hudson River must have been “stimulating!”
[…] Dave’s answer, “Just once, when we lost the ability to maneuver in the Hudson River in poor conditions with a barge turning in front of us. ” This incident happened in May of 2009 when a 12-foot piece of 3-inch-thick polypropylene line wrapped around our shaft and propeller, essentially rendering our main engine and propeller useless. For more details here are links to our blogs about this incident: Work the Problem with Teamwork and Snag in the Plan. […]