WHEN THE WIND GETS SCARY

THOUGHTS ON DROGUES AND SEA ANCHORS FROM MIKE SMITH

by Mike Smith

Because we think of a “drogue” mostly as a device set from the stern to slow boat speed, and a “sea anchor” as a device set from the bow to hold the boat in more-or-less one place, we’ve tried to make the distinction in the text below. But some authorities make little distinction and certainly their uses may overlap.—Eds

Damn! Your ears are burning because you’ve heard it so many times that you now tell it to others: “Reef early, reef often.” But here you are with the wind grinding up to a howl, and gusts pushing you over before you can react. It’s so tempting not to reef when she is finally scooting right along. You think she can take just a little bit more, and you’re reading the wind on the water, but when did these nasty swells start popping up? Visions of broaching and pitchpoling arise. In order to reef now, you would have to stay headed into the wind. Broadside to wind and waves here and you will be shipping water or worse—and you are alone.

Ah, but you are prepared. From shame to pride as an old salt, you know the trick from way back. You have your sea anchor tied to the bow and led back to the center of the boat, stowed where you can get to it without any fuss. You know that the simplest of all pieces of equipment is as essential on a small boat as it is on a large yacht or fishing boat. Within seconds you have this little water parachute deployed and watch with relief as it fills with water and hangs limp as you pass it. This stationary form in the measureless expanse of water shows your speed of movement. Head to wind, you back the tiller and prepare for the line to pull taut. Even if the wind’s abeam, this water anchor would pull you around. But why get caught broadside?

Suddenly secure, bow to the wind and waves, you realize your heart is pounding, but you have the helping hand you were looking for that allows you the freedom to drop sail and take in a reef at your leisure. No, make it two reefs just in case. But before you raise the sail again, you sit back in the stern and enjoy the controlled drift and the suddenly reduced motion. Steady enough to brew a cup o’ tea. Hell, might even catch a few winks if there’s no traffic and enough sea room. Time to reminisce about the sweet and satisfying sewing project that brought you this jewel.

I got hooked on sailing at age 12. My uncle saw the gleam in my eye and said, “Take her out and learn. Can’t run into too much trouble on this little lake.” At 18, I got some real lessons from going out commercial fishing on one of the last salmon boats out of Sausalito. In fact, it should have been retired 20 years before. A ten-ton 35-foot leaky cedar bucket, the Hi C plowed from Morro Bay to Eureka and my take after three months of work was $46. Hardest work I ever did and we didn’t even catch much! But being outside 24 hours a day was worth it all. It was another world and it sang to me. We often motored all night, but if we were in promising water it was my job to set the big sea anchor for the night. It was 8 feet in diameter, and had 500 feet of ¾" line to pay. It had the crude black and red trucker’s polyethylene line, but it stretched enough to soften the strain and keep the chute full. Others worried; I slept like a baby in the lull of wind and waves.

So how is it possible for water to be solid enough to hold your boat from the clutches of the wind? Well, how can your oar develop sufficient force to drive your boat? In a kayak, one can slowly push the paddle blade into the water without tipping over, but slap that puppy down, and it hits with explosive force. If you dropped your boat from a height of 10 feet, water would seem like concrete, and there would probably be major damage. Water is liquid only to a hand moving gently; try speeding that motion up, and you will feel the force that is capable of gripping the drogue. Learning about drogues and sea anchors is wise. Try retrieving the sea anchor in the wind hand over hand; your boat will probably move upwind to the anchor more than the anchor will move toward you. Thus, there is sometimes no need for a tripline, moreover trip lines increase the chances of entanglement.

In the 40 years since my fishing boat days I have been a kayaker, dory rower and sailor of nothing over 20 feet. I’m rarely without a sea anchor and am always amazed at how many boaters have never heard of one. I never pass an opportunity to look for one at an old surplus store. I don’t go for the madness of ocean racers who deep-six all safety equipment for the sake of speed. My trusty spares were made for lifeboat rafts in the 70s. I now have a sturdy Sailrite sewing machine for these projects, and their website has extensive documentation, info and supplies for a handy person to make their own. They even have kits with everything cut out for the latest in this concept. Their design is a series of many small cones in a line. It makes good sense, and I believe the concept has been well proven. Still, for the average small boat, a small, old-fashioned design and scraps of heavy webbing and rip-stop or sailcloth will do just fine for the job. Very few projects are as satisfying to complete and have ready to use. The simplest drogue is a cone about 24" diameter and 24" deep. A light cable forms the lip, and four parachute cords are attached evenly around it. The weight of about 6' circumference of 1/8" stainless cable holds the chute down in the water, and a small float keeps it up and open. The foot has a 4" diameter hole that allows it to drift a bit and with a cord to close the opening for increased holding power. You could make a larger hole for greater drift and still have it close up when real stopping power is needed. A light cord and stopper like a stuff bag will do. This is fine for an 18-foot boat under about 250 pounds in winds up to about 15 knots. A little trial and error will show the right size for your boat and conditions. You’ll be amazed at how well they hold.

In a small boat, I have had good luck with the simplest model chute. On larger boats, there is a risk of the device collapsing in the slack cycle of the wave, so a series of smaller cones helps solve that problem. In the smallest of boats, like a canoe or kayak, 5 to 10 small cones should be sufficient. In this case, a small weight would be placed at the end and a small float would be placed on the end closest to the boat. Keeping the bulk of the drogue just under the action of the surface waves seems ideal.

Large drogues deployed from the stern protect ocean racers and multihulls from capsize and pitchpoling by slowing them down in severe weather. Our use is more likely to be stabilizing the boat around more transient dangers. Perhaps you’ve lost your rudder above a lee shore… setting the drogue/sea anchor earns you precious time, and of course you still have your sand anchor at the ready as well, no? This is especially true for an experienced solo kayaker; probably the only time you’ll go over is in rough conditions and you are just too tired to execute a roll. You will find it just as difficult to perform your self-rescue lying ahull in the trough. A strong wind will keep you sideways and at risk of shipping water, but the sea anchor pulls you into the chop and out of the slop.

In addition to considerations of cost, quality of materials, retrievability, and stowability, two main concerns among those who rely on these devices are a sound design that will stay open and maintain reliable tension, and ease and practicality of deployment in fierce weather without fouling the line. A nasty tangle can make things worse; this was the woe of the Rose Noelle out of New Zealand in 1989. Again, a proper design can solve both those concerns. The row of smaller cones has less risk of becoming an airborne parachute in force-5 weather, and this design seems best for maintaining tension as well. The length spans the wavelengths so that there is always tension on some part of the line. This system can be stowed and deployed safely, and can even be belayed and retrieved over a sail winch. Perhaps a tiered or tapered device is best: the smallest and lightest cones once in the water will pull out the incrementally larger cones as they go.

 If you believe in the value of this device, but find yourself in a pinch before you have had the chance to make one, you can always try what the old mariners would recommend; improvise! Even a sail bag, a plastic bucket, or streaming a warp might suffice in a pinch.

Once you experience the beneficial service this device can offer, I bet that project moves up in priority in your mighty list of to-dos. •SCA•

Mike’s first job was with Bill Grunwald building dories at Aeolus Boats in Davenport, CA. Forty years later, he can’t stop tinkering. In his spare time he runs an inn: www.napacottages.com

First appeared in issue #90