Near death of the Punkin Seed

STORM IN PORT SAN LUIS

Sailing is intimidating because of all the things you do not know. There is simply no way to know the weather; and most everyone doesn't know what to do if the weather gets bad. What if the sails rip? What if the mast breaks? What if you go overboard? On a sailboat, the unpredictable is inevitable.
The Punkin Seed's glory days.

Although you can't learn to sail by reading books, it sure is easier to sail once you've compiled a ton of info. One little piece of advice which I knew - but did not follow, and paid consequences for- was how to anchor a dinghy off a pier: set a stern anchor and tie off the bow on a diagonal to the pier, so that the dinghy is kept off the pilings. Problem is, when I arrived at Port San Luis with a storm kicking in, all I could think about was getting onto dry land.

When I had motored into port at midnight, I had thought strange that there were no other boats in the anchorage. The soft lights atop the masts of other boats are a kind sight when anchoring at night in a new harbor, but I would get no such reassurance. In the morning, I still lay alone, except for a brightly painted red boat which lay on the rocks just inside of where I was. It was big and bold, a converted fishing boat which had evidently succumbed to the last storm.

Still, though, I wasn't worried about my sailboat the Raza. The almighty Bruce anchor had 200 feet of scope, giving me a 7:1 ratio on good holding ground. I was worried about my tender the Punkin Seed, the 7ft fiberglass wonder. She didn't have either a stern cleat or a stern anchor, so she'd be at the mercy of the storm. No matter how much I valued my dinghy, the exhaustion from sailing single-handed from Santa Barbara left me uncaring; I just wanted to get away from the 25 knot winds and sheeting rain.

While the wind blew from the northwest, the Punkin Seed lay nicely to the south of the pier, bopping up and down. However, the forecast was for the wind to switch to the southeast, which might be destructive to the dinghy. I went to town to take care of chores and all the things I'd neglected while dealing with the boat. Life is put on the backburner when your boat is on the line.

I had just checked my bank balance and mailbox when I noticed the flags were flying from the opposite direction. I raced my van back to Port San Luis, having to slow down because buckets of water were coming from the sky. Pouring rain, just what I needed. I arrive at the pier, jump out of the car, and squint throught the grey mist, hoping to see a white speck next to the pier: but I see nothing. I ran out to the end of the pier and saw one small corner of the Punkin Seed fighting to stay above the surging water, the rest of it underwater.

Later I realized that the only thing that saved the Punkin Seed from ultimate destruction was that it was underwater; if I had remained above water the swells would have smashed it to bits on the pilings. But at the time, I thought I was witnessing the the last sinking moments of my tender. Two Harbor Patrol guys were cruising by so I asked for their help. They looked at it for awhile but said they couldn't do much.

"Legally, we're not supposed to aid in salvage operations." The bigger guy said half-apologetically.
"A salvage operation? I'm just trying to keep it from sinking."
"Well, I'd say it's a lost cause even if you manage to save it. Whatever you do, don't hurt yourself."

A lost cause? That sure fired me up; I was going to do everything to show those guys that the situation was far from a lost cause. It took me awhile but finally the snagged bow line came unravelled; and I started dragging the submerged dinghy towards the beach. Like a stubborn mule I pulled, the rope cutting into my hands, the elements going crazy all around.

"Punkin Seed! At least I'm going to give you a decent burial!"

I pulled and pulled, the dinghy getting stuck every 10 seconds in the pilings, then finally releasing onto the beach. I pulled it on the sand, and as I stood there drenched and sweaty, I surveyed the damaged. In my opinion, definitely not a lost cause.