Aft-Backwards Maiden Voyage

[Triton218]

When I bought my Pearson Triton, my sailing skills were what could only kindly be called rusty. I grew up sailing and racing with my Dad, but when I was about 15 he sold his Pearson 10M and bought a Grand Banks. A fun boat, particularly while I was in high school, but the very limited sailing I was able to squeeze in after that did little to hone my underdeveloped skills. Then came college, which was 4 (or so) years of a whole lotta fun, but little sailing.

So, when a family friend offered to take us out on his Triton, I realized how much I'd missed out on and how much I'd forgotten about handling a sailboat. Our friend acquired the sailboat dirt cheap as part of a larger agreement and the boat was suffering from some seriously deferred maintenance. He'd had the boat for quite awhile and had done little work or sailing. Sensing an opportunity, I offered a low ball price for the boat and he accepted. A quick trip to the bank, and I was officially a boat owner!

The boat was docked in Pass Christian, MS with a large fleet of shrimp boats. I live in New Orleans, so the prospect of getting her home (about 90 miles) was a little bit daunting, but promised to be an adventure. I called two good friends who knew nothing about sailing, we loaded up the boat with gear and prepared for the trip. My dad decided to come along also, ostensibly to make sure we didn't drown, but in reality to enjoy a long day of unending comic relief. He resolved to offer assistance only in cases of dire emergency.

We arrived in Pass Christian early on Saturday. The wind was easterly and blowing at about 15 kts - perfect for our westward journey. My dad, in a display of his determination to move at his own pace that day, didn't arrive until 1030. By 1100, we were fully loaded and ready to head out. The Atomic 4 engine fired up and, with friends strategically placed on each side of the boat to watch for wayward pilings, I engaged reverse and backed smartly out of the slip. In the middle of the narrow channel, I disengaged reverse and pulled the gear shift backward to engage the forward gear. The engine took a small load, but the boat continued in reverse and, as she presented her stbd. side to the breeze, began turning to port and heading for a row of shrimp boats. My good friend Chris panicked and froze at the shrouds, terrified at the oncoming shrimpers and what I'm sure he thought a tragic end to his aborted sailing career. My other friend Ryann, with sage-like wisdom, said "Put that D**n thing in forward! My father raised his eyebrows in a silent display of mirth.

The Triton transmission is engaged through the cockpit floor with a large bronze handle. The forward gear on my new boat was extremely reluctant to engage, and took quite a bit of force. I assumed that the transmission was broken and the we had no forward gear. So, I engaged the tested reverse gear and swung the boat - aft backwards - out of harms way and into the main harbor channel. Despite the deft execution of what was actually a pretty tricky maneuver, we were leaving the harbor, under many stares, in a decidedly awkward and unseamanlike fashion. The harbor was protected from the Gulf by huge sea walls that overlap and create a dog-legged harbor entrance. We backed boldly around the sea wall, with a quick honk of the air horn, to greet a number of surprised incoming boats. We waved to them confidently as we backed into the 3 - 4 ft. swells and the full breeze. Once clear of hazards, we moved into the wide ship channel, disengaged reverse and pointed the boat more or less into the wind. We raised the genoa and the main, tacked around surprisingly well, and began a long, confidence building run towards the swamp.

The rest of the trip was wonderful and exciting. The wind slacked off to ten knots by the evening and, after dark, to maybe 7 knots. We encountered a bridge that lost power at the Rigolets pass and had to beat back up to another entrance to Lake Pontchartrain - the narrow and dark Chef Mentuer Pass, which we navigated after dark into the Lake. That entrance is surrounded by water as shallow as 2 feet and we had a hair-raising midnight  bump as we tapped the sandy bottom. It was very late when we eased into our slip in New Orleans. We maintained slight headway into the slip and, tired and drained, I called to Chris "Watch the bow!" He did, as we crashed into the dock, ending a long, educational day on the water.

What a day.

[CapnK]

LOL, Jason! ;D

You are fortunate that you were ableto have an audience for your aft-backwards misadventure! I imagine that backing into 3-4' swells was, well, "enlightening" in some way. :D I'd also wager that the story of your departure continues to be told to this day...

Someday soon I'll post about my H. Ophelia "fun", and you'll understand that I know how a "strategic retreat" is sometimes the best (read: "only") way to save the day. ;)

[Iceman]

I just went to your website
I assume the Triton survived??

Up here in Vermont we have had an ice storm a few year ago
and an occasional wind downburst

But nothing like what I see in your hurricane pics

Ice

[Triton218]

It survived, damaged but floating. She was the only boat on my pier to make it. I can't articulate the damage down here - in terms of scale and intensity it's like nothing I've ever seen and this isn't my first hurricane. Most of New Orleans remains uninhabitable. This is a post about my first few days back in the city that I posted on the Plastic Classic forum:

http://www.triton381.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=1229

Little has changed since then.

[Zen]

WOW! :o

Everytime I see someone's picture from there...a prayer goes for everyone...