Dennis and Sally Gillett.
Dennis writes "Its a rip about a metre in length and positioned above the third reef point. 'Bugger! That's torn it', I say, attempting to change the mood we have got ourselves into.

"There is little alternative, we lower the main and lash it for the night. The wind has risen to forty knots and the sea has become worse. The reason for this is not so much the strength of the wind but the strong south running current that opposes it. The waves stand up flashing white images at us and threatening to break over the boat.

"We have aboard a Para-Anchor and had intended to practice deploying it as soon as we left the Gold Coast, but because there was no wind this was not possible. 'Looks like it may be time to break out that sea anchor' said Sal. She was right; there was little alternative with our sail wardrobe now consisting of a jib and MPS. Besides, conditions may very well worsen. On the other hand we now had to consider throwing overboard at night, in rough seas, two buoys attached to twenty metres of line each, a parachute, fifteen feet diameter, a hundred metres of warp and a thirty metre bridle. A perfect recipe for a tangle around the props, which would leave us at the mercy of the sea. 'OK, I'll get it out if you get the bridle ready'.

"Now the bridle we had attached to the forward crossbeam prior to departing, running it aft to the cockpit as Alby McCracken, the manufacturer of the Para-Anchor, had advised. It was secured outside the lifelines to the base of the stanchions with plastic electrical ties and in theory was basically ready. I attached the two marker buoys to the rear of the chute and then fitted chute to the hundred metres of rode and moused the shackles to the bridle. This system would allow us to launch from the safety of the cockpit rather than from the plunging wet bows. As an extra safety precaution, we doubled up on all the shackles as well. We manoeuvred the boat till it lay sixty degrees to the wind then launched the marker buoys and their respective twenty metre retrieval lines. This is probably the most likely time to get into trouble for as the buoys and lines are light they tend to blow back to the boat to create mischief. We used the motors to manoeuvre the boat and then launched the chute, still in its deployment bag, over the windward quarter. The boat moved back and with a little tension the chute opened and we slowly fed out the rode till it was almost to the bridle line. As it tightened further still, I let go the remaining line over the side, which soon took up tight popping the electrical ties securing it. The bridle took up, the head came to wind and the boat began to ride the sea in an easy gentle manner. It is a relief, and to have it launched without a problem is a bonus.

"The only thing I don't feel completely at ease with is that the entire rig is fastened to the boat by two shackles connected to welded tangs on the cross beam. Admittedly the shackles are fine Ronstan ones and rated at six tons but if either were to fail or the weld tear we would be in difficulty. I went forward to the bows clipping myself on with the safety harness and double lashed both the bridle eyes around the cross beam and cleated off the tails. 'Now try and escape from that' I thought, returning to the cockpit.

"The complex low, which is three hundred miles south, is the rascal responsible for these diabolical conditions and how long they will last is a guess. We keep anchor watch all night in two hour shifts.
"Thursday 10th May.
A grey dawn with squalls and rain with the wind 30 to 40 knots. 'I don't think we will be going anywhere today' Sal says. She is right about that too. All day the seas build until large breaking seas are rolling through. The Para-Anchor holds the bows to them and first light climbs over endless rows marching northwards. We take turns sleeping or laying about and keeping watch. Sometimes the boat drops off the back of a steeper than usual wave, crashing into the trough sending a shudder right through First Light.

"At night it is tempting to just leave the anchor light on, close the hatch and both go to sleep, but we don't for we are fifty miles off the Australian coast and there is shipping".

Click HERE for larger image..

Vlad and Joy 20 miles out of Noumea, in their Cavalier 37 Touch 'n Go.

Vlad writes "Townsville Radio's Saturday night forecast mentioned the formation of a low at about our location and ask for any reports, so I obliged giving our location, wind and sea state confirming the expected 40-45 knots from the east. I had a horrible feeling that we might be sitting in the middle of an out-of-season cyclone, if such things exist. They are the sort of thoughts that come to haunt you and you try to ignore. We did get the Para-Anchor for just such a possibility but never really thought that we would need to use it. We got the Para-Anchor out and prepared for deployment.

"With the genoa out of the way, we decided to put out the Para-Anchor as more wind was expected from the east and we did not want to be blown back to Australia! We had never deployed the Para-Anchor and we had to do it in the dark, not a good scenario. The end of the 50 metre nylon rope was secured to the bow cleat with about three metres to spare. The rope was brought back to the cockpit where all the rest had been assembled and checked. We knew that with a partial trip line, once the deployment started there would be huge forces involved and no going back short of cutting the thing loose. We deployed from the windward side of the cockpit, first the partial trip line, then the float and the Para-Anchor, which I shook out of its bag as it went over. As we drifted we noticed that the rope was starting to pay out. It went out slowly but in jerks as the boat rolled. All was going well until near the end of the rope a loop coiled around a main winch and Joy's thumb got caught when she went to free it. She shouted and I pulled on the rope until her hand was free. One problem solved but another created. As I jumped forward I had stepped into a bight in the rope which promptly tried to pull me overboard with it. I was tethered on so I dangled my leg over the side and it unwound. But the rope was not finished with us yet. When I crossed over to pull on the rope I had crossed my tether over the rope which now tugged on the tether instead of it falling free over the safety lines. I could either go over the side, under the rope and back into the cockpit or undo the tether. I undid the tether and the rope went free.

"All this drama was worth it. As we drifted from the anchor the bow was pulled into the wind and stayed there for the next 12 hours. Under bare poles the boat stayed head to wind give or take 15 degrees and to my surprise the bow rose easily to every wave. I credit the stretch in the 16mm nylon rope for allowing the bow to lift to the seas because the anchor was certainly not going anywhere! In 12 hours we drifted NW 10 miles and our distance to Noumea had increased only 4 miles.

"Chafe of the Para-Anchor rope was a problem. All the time we were at anchor I did two hourly checks of the rope and moved it along so the same spots would not get all the wear. For this purpose I had left three metres before the bitter end. By the time we were finished the one-inch reinforced hosing that the rope ran through was completely destroyed.

"At the height of the gale going to the bow was a pretty miserable crawl on all fours with wind, rain and spray lashing my face. I was lightly dressed for these too frequent excursions, just the weatherproof jacket over my underwear. On the return trip I got hurry up from the wind as spray blasted up my jacket. Whilst forward I also observed how the bow was rising to the seas. There was another 100 metres of 16mm of nylon waiting to be deployed if the bow did not consistently rise to the waves or if the gale lasted longer or got stronger than expected and waves became higher and longer. I deployed only 50 metres of rope initially because the wave height would be about 5.5 to 7 metres at most and crests not too far apart.

"By keeping the scope short I hoped the boat would be kept more firmly in line with the anchor and we would get the benefit of any slick the anchor may have created. The boat did stay lined up remarkably well and no significant breaking waves hit our bow. Whether that was due to the slick from the anchor I don't really know because the strongest winds were during the night when I could not observe the extent of the breaking waves downwind of the anchor and either side of it.

"Next morning we were eager to get going but there was the job of recovering the Para-Anchor. Joy was willing to cut it loose rather than risk snagging the propeller with it, or having it drag me overboard. The Para-Anchor had caused Joy much pain and suffering so I could understand her readiness to be rid of it. I, on the other hand, thought of the cost of the thing and the possible need for it again. The seas were moderate and the wind 20-25 knots so we had a go at recovery which turned out to be easy, even though the partial trip line had tangled around the anchor's float. We motored slowly towards the float whilst taking up the slack rope, the anchor was visible well down below the keel of the boat. I picked up the float just like a mooring and hauled it up. The anchor collapsed and was easily brought on deck.

"One piece of advice I give is to deploy in daylight if at all possible. Our accident may not have happened if we had done so".