I suppose the best way to start is at the beginning. Nicola's and my first cruise on our restored Bristol lasted about 60 hours. This is the story.........

Sixty Hours

This is a cautionary tale, a story of how mistakes are made, judgment is dulled to the point of catastrophe and how arrogance can topple your world. This is also about how prudent planning, good equipment and a bit of luck can bring you back from the brink.
We departed Norfolk, VA on Sunday morning, December 15th, aboard our Bristol 41.1 'Averi'. The target for this leg of our journey to Jacksonville, FL was the anchorage in Lookout Bight just off Beaufort Inlet. That morning we were on engine for two hours heading out of the Chesapeake and past Cape Henry. We raised sails before noon as we turned south. Early in the afternoon the wind became more and more southerly and we were once again on engine after only four hours of sailing. Nicola, my wife began to have flu symptoms; fever and chills. It was a very rapid onset and should have been considered a point we turned back. It was a long day and longer night. On Monday the 16th we started rounding Hatteras just after midnight. Seas were very rough and confused and we were in them for about six hours. That afternoon we lost propulsion. The engine seemed OK but the transmission was having problems. I raised sail and set the Hydrovane. The wind became inconsistent but remained mostly from the SW adding to my difficulties rounding Cape Lookout. Nicola was still pretty sick and unable to help much, although she tried. After a number of series of tacks that failed due to wind shifts, I finally made it around the cape on the morning of Tuesday December 17th. My last log entry was a half hour before midnight. I have now been up for fifty hours, single handing with a great deal of tacking. Rather than aim for the bight where we had planned to anchor, I decide instead, because of the lack of engine, to head for Beaufort and call for Tow Boat to assist us in to port when we get into phone range. At this point I am using chart 11520, in fathoms, as well as my chart plotter, in feet. At some point, I am unsure of the moment, I mistook Bogue Inlet for Beaufort inlet, likely on my chart plotter and with insufficient zoom in. I had disengaged the Hydrovane and went onto the auto pilot at some point the previous night. With a waypoint set for what I believed to be Beaufort, I calculated my approach, using a smaller scale chart, to take us to the east of the inlet to tack with the wind into the channel. Much of this time is a blur to me, I have been awake for nearly sixty hours with a couple of cat naps, however, once we were able to make phone contact with Tow US, I did arrange to meet outside of Beaufort Inlet. When the tow boat captain suggested buoy R14 I started to see there was a problem. The mark I was heading for was N4. I alerted Tow US as to this and checked my charts again. While I now saw my error in location, I had fathoms locked in my mind for depth and felt secure in that aspect. We were approaching Bogue Inlet from the SE along the beach, in what I believed was 30 feet of water. Then we bumped. Not to hard but it got my attention. I finally noticed the depth on our instruments, less than six feet! We draw five foot with the centerboard up. I immediately attempted to tack but in the course of coming about, the genoa hung up on the spreader and we were pushed back around. As we crossed the outer bar, it was apparent we could do no more to escape. Nicola had managed to come up to the cockpit and proceeded to furl the headsail and thankfully, raise the partially lowered centerboard. I deployed the anchor but it was already too shallow for the anchor to do any good so I dropped and secured the main. We grounded at dusk, hull towards the sea and a hard south wind slamming waves onto the shore. I was exhausted, utterly spent. A Coast Guardsman and others approached us and we could see the water at the rail was only about two feet deep; I helped my wife to abandon ship between waves. She jumped into the sea and I followed thereafter, checking that the interior and items on deck were secure. I pretty much collapsed in their arms. After being checked by EMTs onshore, we were taken in by a fellow, Leo, who insisted we were going to his beach home. We were given a room, showered, given dry clothes and fed pizza and beer. I was so completely grateful while at the same time wretched with the thought of what had happened. I fell asleep to the sound of waves crashing on the beach....and our home. Early the next morning we were driven to the beach and discovered Averi had, moving with the waves, dug a shallow trench in the sand and mostly righted herself. Tow US was offshore and they later deployed a diver to bring a line in. At the morning high tide on Dec 18th they were able to bring her bow toward the sea but the tide was not high enough to dislodge her. Later, at low tide I was able to get on board and make sure all was secure, it was. The lights were still on, the freezer was running, the instruments were on and fixing our location to 3 meters, providing SOG, COG, apparent wind speed and direction. Everything on the outside, jerry cans, dinghy, cushions, etc. was secure and very little had come free inside. Most important, the boat was dry. The most noticeable damage was the rudder and the Hydrovane rudder. The ships rudder had broken loose from the skeg and was bent about forty degrees. The Hydrovane rudder was completely gone. That evening we arrived about an hour prior to high tide. We were a bit surprised, along with many others, that Tow US did not begin extrication until well after the tide had begun to ebb. They were able to move her a few feet towards the sea. but no more. We spent another night listening to the waves pound the beach and our boat. Yet again, the following morning, Dec 19th, the tide was insufficient to float her and while she moved a few feet, not much was gained other than racking the port secondary winch they used as a tie off. With low tide, Tow US attempted to use water to create a channel seaward of Averi, I am unsure of their success, other than flooding their own boat when the pump sprung huge leaks. Finally, at high high tide that evening, at the peak of high tide, Averi jumped on a few waves, surged forward, jumped again and she was free. Oh how lovely it was to see her floating!
Now, there is more to the story, the fellow and his family that rescued us, the repairs and switching boatyards, even how we spent the winter in Beaufort and Emerald Isle being treated as family. However, this part of the story is about what went wrong and what, surprisingly, went right.
• We had a schedule. I had arranged to meet my daughter in Jacksonville to take her sailing with us. She would be flying in so it was a fairly tight schedule. Now I know something about schedules. I have been a construction manager and coordinator for some time. I am driven to make my deadlines, push to meet scheduling goals. This is good in that world, not so much in others.
1. So, even if you have a schedule, it should be the last item in the priority list.
2. Any schedule should be long on days and short on distance.

• The next big mistake had something to do with the first. I allowed my instincts to rule me. Rather than "push on" I should have been taking a break. We had all the tools. I could have hove to; I could have set a sea anchor. Heck, there were places I could have dropped the hook. More than anything I needed sleep and the further I pushed on the more irrational I became. I can see where I stopped making log entries, where I made poor choices in sailing and most of all, confusion in charting a course. You may think the difference between Beaufort and Bogue Inlets is too big an error to make, but after 50 hours of no sleep you might as well have drunk a fifth of rum. My arrogance, that I could "push on", nearly cost me my wife, my home, my life. While I have reformed, some, I do operate on a different set of priorities now.
1. The Boat - Is she ready, is she safe?
2. The Weather and Sea State - Is it good enough, for long enough?
3. The Crew - Are they ready, healthy, rested and able to perform? Do we have a watch schedule?
4. The Route - Have we familiarized ourselves with the whole route, possible diversions, currents and hazards? Where are any emergency anchorages?
5. The Retreat - Where is the point that returning is less of an option?
We don't move unless we can answer all. These are the basics.
Now, some stuff went right and not necessarily due to me.
• The beach we ended up on was the perfect beach to do it. There was sufficient but not too much grade, it is pure soft sand and the Coast Guard station is a block away.
• The boat. Averi was exceptional. She stood up to 3 days of pounding after being run aground, was twisted and yanked back and forth to pull her off and she came out with a busted rudder and some bottom paint rubbed off. She suffered some tabbing breaking loose and Boat US tore out a winch they used as a bollard but her topsides, rig, cabin, engine were all fine and she stayed dry. Besides Bristol, I can take some credit here. I spent the better part of two years rebuilding her and making sure she had all that was needed to survive. She is a stronger, drier boat than ever.
• The reception committee. The people on the beach were there to watch the full moon rise, on any other night there might have not been anyone there. Leo, our particular savior, saw us, knew it was not good and called the Coast Guard before we hit the shoal offshore. He took us in and comforted us when we needed it. Then he made us practically family.
• The wife. She is still sailing with me. Down with the flu she was up on deck when she had to be, thinking of things I could not, like crank up the centerboard!
• We were insured. Not only that, our insurance company was great.
All in all we came out pretty well considering. The repairs took some time, more because of the time of year than the severity of the damage. Bill and Roy, the owners of Burbridge and Wilson (@Jarrett Bay, Core Creek) did a great job and to top it off we got a new family!
I spent a great deal of time doing an autopsy of the events (this is something I did after all my construction projects. A huge amount can, and should be learned not only constructively criticizing the work of others but self-criticism as well) and while my attitude and lack of sleep were the major factors, starting the fall of dominos, there were other lessons and many what-ifs. What if I had enough sense to try the engine again? I have stopped second guessing myself and have begun to forgive the person I was.
Some of you have been where we were, many have been in worse places. A few folks will say, "It'll never happen to me." They could be right, but denial is a bad attitude too. Others will just think me a fool and I can accept that, I have been far more critical of myself than they could imagine. I do hope, maybe, someone will learn from my mistakes because it's so much easier than making your own.
I do want to thank:
o My wife, Nicola whose faith never wavered, or at least she never showed it.
o The Coast Guard - To those at sea, these people are more important than family.
o Leo Schmidt who picked us up when we had fallen and gave us comfort and security when we needed it most.
o The rest of Leo's family, who made us feel at home
o Markel Insurance for their rapid response in our hour of need.
o Bill BurBridge and Roy Wilson of 'Burbridge and Wilson' who did a great job getting Averi back in shape