Collision at Sea

The day had started out well enough...chest to head high waves at Ponquogue (with an equally nice-sized crew to enjoy them:  Bill, Scott, Fisherman, Peconic Jeff, the Wolf, Radek, and Jon Ford sailing 4.7-5.2's.)  P-Jeff was a standout, seen backside riding a head high wave for all it was worth (Jeff and I in the  "still trying to figure this wave thing out" category.)   As is our practice, when the tide came in and mighty Ponquogue's beach break became too much, we packed up and headed one mile down the road to the Bowl.

That's where it happened.   With the swell head-to-logo high and the east wind turning a bit south, we were windsurfing through canyons in on-side-on conditions.   Anyone separated from you by one of the walls of water was not visible, which is why I think the Wolf and I collided.

In seventeen years of windsurfing I've never seen two planing boards collide, much less been in such a crash.   Fortunately we were both on starboard tack so the impact wasn't severe.   I was threading a path through jacking swell (I can barely jump on starboard, so when I see an 8 foot ramp I try to shoot below it or pinch above.)   I'd just come around the back of a swell and was bearing off fully powered, with what I thought was a clear path.    Then in about half of a second the following sequence:

Sound of the Wolf shouting,
A blue luff sleeve in my face,
BAM! (mast hits my head and shoulder...fortunately I had my helmet on.)
I'm flat on my back, underwater, harness hook snagged, with weight above me.

I never open my eyes underwater, as I don't want to lose my contact lenses.   Given the circumstances I cancelled that policy, unfouled myself, and saw above me a tangle of sails and boards.   Following the advice I was given as a newbie (if you're stuck under a sail, pick a direction and keep going until you're clear) I got myself back to the surface, where I was greeted by the Wolf, who happily was not covered in blood (in fact he was fine).

"What are you doing?" he asked me.    As if I was still crashing into him. "John, I'm sorry," I said. "I never saw you." He hadn't seen me, either.    Back on the beach (where we determined that no equipment, skin, or bones were damaged) he described himself sailing along when all of a sudden he looked down and saw the nose of my board come between his mast and footstraps.   Perturbed by my extreme proximity he shouted a warning, but it was too late.

The rules of sailing are clear:  Upwind yields to downwind.  An overtaking vessel may not run down the overtaken vessel.  That a big-ass wave had blocked my view until the last second is not contained in the Official List of Excuses.  So I was wrong x2.  All my fault.

The Wolf was very nice about it.

(Photo:  The Wolf works Ponquogue before being rammed by me at the Bowl.  Photo by Jeff. Also by Jeff on this day:  Some impressive wave sailing, both at Ponquogue and the Bowl.  Scott pointed to Jeff inbound at the Bowl, noting what an exceptional performance he was giving.   As per the eleventh rule of thermodynamics (which governs windsurfing) this caused Jeff to immediately explode going over a wave, but that's windsurfing.   Great day, Jeff!)

Comments

[John Knox]

Wow, wow, wow. What a scary experience. I like the advice to pick a direction when trapped underwater -- I had never heard that before.

[michael]

The windsurfer who told me about "picking a direction and sticking with it" pointed out that the worst thing you could do was start heading in one direction, but then trying a new direction if you weren't clear of the sail after a few seconds...you could end up staying under the sail.

Ideally you never let go of the boom, so you know exactly where you are. In the case of my crash, however, I had two rigs on top of me so it was a bit more...interesting!

[Mac]

Michael, Scary...glad you two are ok and can share this experience. How did you get unsnagged from the harness? This happened to me once...scary experience. It wasn't the getting out from under the sail part that was hard...it was getting unhooked from a twisted harness line.

[Michael]

The key that most people find to unsnagging themselves is to stay calm. If you raise your hips and twist once and don't come free, and then start panicking, no good can come from it. This is the drill I do:
1. Drop a hand to the hook to clear the line by hand.
2. If this doesn't immediately work, I open my eyes (previously closed to protect contact lenses) and if I can't see how to unsnag myself immediately, I'll unthread my spreader bar. I've only had to do this once, but it worked.

If your spreader bar is loose when you put it on, it has more give and in my experience tends to stay snagged longer, because raising your hips just slackens the line (as opposed to raises the bar.) A tight spreader bar makes for easier unhooking both above the water and below!