Years ago, a slipmate of mine would come down to his boat in November, drain the gas from his engine, pour a couple of bottles of antifreeze in the bilge, rig a boomtent using the cheapest tarp imaginable, and call out, “See you next season!” He’d be gone in a cloud of dust, and sure enough, I wouldn’t see him until the following April, long after the tarp had disintegrated into tatters of blue ribbon waving in the wind.
Nothing more serious than that ever seemed to go amiss after four months of neglect, for he’d be puttering out of the slip for a daysail while the rest of us were still waiting for the first osprey of spring. It was something that worked for him, and having obligations far from the boat, it seemed the only choice he had. A good dose of luck didn’t hurt him either.
No two skippers will agree on how much attention should be paid to wintering on the Bay, and everyone’s situation is different. Indeed, a lot of folks live hundreds of miles away from their boats. Life being what it is, it isn’t always practical to get down to the boat every weekend to make sure all is well. But no matter whether in the water or on the hard, visiting old Nellie regularly during the dead of winter lessens the chance of unhappy surprises in the spring. Maybe it’s just me, but I think I rest easier with regular and frequent visitation.
Besides the normal decommissioning stuff that we all have to do, from winterizing engines and water systems and closing seacocks, there is a wide gulf of opinion about every aspect of the rest of it. Perhaps because the relatively long sailing season here on the Chesapeake lulls us into collective nonchalance, putting our boats to bed can mean anything from the minimalist example above to fully offloading everything that isn’t fastened down and covering her from stem to stern in plastic or fabric.
Anything neglected is going to suffer somehow. Four months in the cold and dark of a marina or boatyard in the offseason presents special concerns, not the least of which is opportunity for theft and vandalism. While it may be true that not many sailboats get stolen, a lot of them seem to be targets for breaking and entering, with electronics being the most likely items stolen and easily hawked. Hatchboard locks aren’t the best, and while an alarm system might help, it’s still a good idea to take this valuable gear home as part of your regular decommissioning in the fall.
In the water or out, whether and how to cover your boat depends on what you think works and what doesn’t. I tend to think that the quality of a cover should be commensurate with the value of the boat. Mine is on the low side, so I started out with tarps. They’re cheap, but you can buy heavier ones that will last a season or two. One problem is how to tie them down. Bungees work pretty well, but metal ends will rust and discolor the fiberglass. Weights are sometimes used, commonly being antifreeze bottles filled with water. The trouble with this is that they freeze and turn into little plastic wrecking balls against your hull in a stiff wind. One smart soul kept actual antifreeze in the bottles, and he reported no problems. Fabric covers are better, and nothing beats one custom made for your boat so that it can breathe while keeping snow, dirt, and sun off your topsides.
I’ve left my boat in the water as much as it’s been on the hard, but I have to agree that it’s probably a good idea to haul out every once in a great while. It might be fair to say that boats were meant to be in the water, not on the hard. But it’s also fair to say that most production boats of a certain vintage weren’t designed for year round use due to blistering.
Another argument in favor of downtime is that sails and canvas need repair and cleaning from time to time. Biminis should be taken down, washed, and stowed ashore. Same with dodger panels and anything else you need in the summer but won’t do a lick of good in the winter subject to ice, snow, and wind.
With your new boat, whether right from the factory or just new to you, the care you take of her during the winter will lessen the odds of spending the really great days of spring slipbound or on the hard. Keep the snow out of the cockpit, water out of the bilge, and all the best for a great 2014!
~Steve Allan
