The freighter traffic was getting heavy as we made our way
north though Selat Riau, the wide channel that works it way towards Singapore. Our guide book mentioned an anchorage that sounded promising
and we were just about to pull in when a very dark thunderhead threatened to
turn loose on us. The anchorage turned
out to be awful so we headed back south and found a very secure spot just to
the east of Raja Island.
After a very comfortable night, we got underway the next morning for
what was to be our final leg with Sail Indonesia, a luxury resort on the north
side of Bintan Island.
As we were dodging the massive freighters that were
anchored, another very dark thunderstorm was forming to the west and soon the
wind was up to the low 30s. It didn’t
take long for a decent-sized swell to develop but the rain associated with the
storm was relatively mild.
The route I had plotted on the chart plotter took us over an
area that had about 35 feet of water, more than enough for Rutea’s 6’6” draft but still relatively shallow compared to the
water surrounding us. I wasn’t worried
about it but I still kept a watchful eye on the depth sounder. What was more of a concern was the enormous amounts
of trash in the water.
The wind had dropped to about 10 knots and with just the
genoa out, we put the engine on to keep our speed up. With a sudden jarring and loud banging from
the hull, Rutea almost came to a
complete stop. “We’ve run aground,” I
shouted and shifted the engine into neutral but a quick check of the depth sounder
said we were still had 35 feet of water under the keel. Perhaps we had just picked up something on
the prop so I tried reverse but the noise that came from the
engine/transmission indicated that something was seriously wrong. I tried to do a logical diagnosis of the
problem and I became suspicious of the transmission. A quick inspection didn’t reveal anything
obvious or conclusive. Ruthie suggested
I look over the transom and see if we were trailing anything.
The answer was very plain and very troubling. Sticking out about four feet from under Rutea’s hull and transom were four large timbers,
each one measuring about 6” by 8”. The
ends of the timbers were rounded from wear but the wood was still very
sound. I could see a threaded rod, measuring
about ¾” in diameter that was keeping the timbers together. What I couldn’t see was the end of the
timbers that were still under the boat.
We furled the genoa and threw a long polypropylene line in
the water, something for me to hang onto when I was in the water. There was enough wind that even with the
sails furled, Rutea was still moving
at about 1 knot per hour and can’t I swim that fast. Once in the water with my facemask on, I
could see the whole story. Four heavy
timbers, probably twelve feet long each, held together with three four-foot lengths
of threaded rod, were on either side of Rutea’s
skeg and rudder, just inches away from her prop. The seas were still rough enough that it
would have been difficult if not impossible to remove the timbers where we
were. The wood still had enough buoyancy
that I could stand on them and my weight didn’t make them sink
appreciably. I decided that all we could
do for the moment was sail into the anchorage, which was only a couple of miles
away. Running the engine was out of the
question as it would have been far too easy for one of the timbers to shift
right into the prop, easily ruining it.
We sailed into the anchorage, dropped the hook and I was in
the water with a hacksaw a few minutes later.
It took about 15 minutes to saw through the threaded rod, one pair of
timbers drifting away easily while the other pair was applying enough pressure
on the rod that I still couldn’t free it.
I started to think about rigging blocks and tackle to attach to the
whole mess when a final effort got the timbers free.
The whole episode now just seems like a bad dream. The only damage I could see was where the
threaded rod had worn away the gel coat and some of the fiberglass on the
leading edge of the skeg, a repair that’s not too difficult to make once the
boat is out of the water. What I still
can’t understand is how the timbers, two on each side, got to straddle the skeg
and rudder. If the whole mess had been
floating, it would have struck the boat just below the waterline. Why didn’t the timbers straddle the
keel? How did they get past the keel in
the first place?
Alls well that ends well but this could have been a
disaster.