What it Means to be Unstayed

It's been a minute since our last post, and there are a few reasons for that. We have a backlog to make up from the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay to where we are now in Daytona Beach, FL. The truth is that it's been a bit of a grind getting to Florida. We've been racing the cold south and pushing crew and boat to the limit, and the going hasn't been all that interesting in terms of material. The other distraction is our rig, which has been a source of some problems over the past few months and probably bears some explanation. Unstayed rigs are a type of sailing rig that uses super strong, free-standing masts that don't require the usual birds nest of wires (stays, pictured below) to hold them up. At least, that's the idea.

Toward the end of 2020, we noticed some issues with loud noises and a slight bit of movement where the mast passes through the deck of the boat. Knowing we'd set off on a long distance cruise we sailed to Rhode Island to a specialist at a yard known for working with Freedom yachts. The masts were pulled and we took the chance to re-wire them and add some new wind instruments. Come summer of 2021, we re-installed the masts and replaced the wedges that hold the mast at the deck with a pour-in rubber compound. We had assurances that this would be the fix, but as we sailed off on our trip, it became clear that wasn't the case. The thuds from the deck continued.

Things were improved but still not quiet and still, and we cautiously continued on while trying a few band-aid fixes to keep things safe. The goal was to baby the boat along until we could reach some warmer weather, then embark on a proper repair. Nearly 2000 miles later, on a 36 hour passage through 10-15 foot seas, we had made it to North Florida. It was a fast but rough trip, and it was along the way that the temporary fixes gave way and the noises returned with a vengeance. The good news is, we're now in Florida where we will have warmer and sunny days to work on the boat. The bad news is, the masts must be removed again to fix our problems properly.

In the pictures above you'll see the boat with the masts freshly re-installed earlier this year, one of the quick and dirty repairs made to the base of the mast, the deck fitting where the rubber wedges were removed, and the keel fitting where the mast attaches to the boat at the bottom. While the movement started at the deck, it now shifts around at the base too, so this next repair will necessitate building up that mast step to take up some of the slop that was introduced by the mast moving around. It's a big job and it will probably take some time, so things will slow down here for a while.

You might get the impression from YouTube channels that sailing and especially distance cruising is all coconuts and rum punch. That certainly makes for better content than dirty old mast fittings, but it does belie the fact that boats require constant upkeep and effort to keep running safely. Some of those jobs are minor annoyances, and some of them are major ones. Part of it is luck, part of it is knowledge, and part of it just comes down to raw experience. It stinks that we'll probably be tied down for a month trying to find somewhere to do the job and actually doing it, but at the end of the day we're working for ourselves and we were able to limp to warmer climes before things really needed to be addressed.

Now that the sprint south is over, things can slow down a bit and we will catch up on that backlog. But in the meantime here's a preview: PALM TREES. As silly as it sounds, watching the foliage change from pines to oak to palms has made it feel like we're finally making it somewhere semi tropical, and that goes a long way to boost morale. A stay is a line that holds something down, and we're hoping the metaphorical dual meaning of Sailing Unstayed fulfills itself soon when we're able to head east away from US shores. I'm sure the coconuts are right around the corner...

- Shiloh Crew