All was not uneventful in Baker Inlet. The windlass would exact its toll. The pain has finally eased this evening so I am going to bed and will tell the story tomorrow. Beware the windlass.

Sleep was welcome, deep and sound. The storm howled through the rigging and Ohana bucked and pulled at her dock lines. Two spring lines aft were taught and holding.  We slept.

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Next morning:

Appreciation of this next excerpt from our voyage calls for a brief anatomical review and functional description of a windlass. A windlass is a metallic monster that squats near the bow of the boat and eats chain and growls fiercely. Not even a grizzly would dare mess with this beast. But this creature can be tamed and its chain devouring passion harnessed for practical purposes. Mechanically, the windlass is a powerful pulley with deep teeth seated in a steel drum that can rotate in either direction, and hoist or deploy hundreds of pounds of chain and anchor. An electric motor with wrenching torque is operated by a capable seaman often with foot controls mounted on the deck near the windlass. Oh, and one more thing, the foot controls are equipped with hard covers that are lifted back exposing the working switch which is activated by applying pressure, typically by stepping on and depressing the switch with one’s foot. Use of the foot ensures that the operator’s hands, clothing, hair etc. are safely away from the turning drum, or gypsy.

Now you may be getting a sense of where this is going…and it’s not pretty. Warning, the following description is for mature audiences only. We arrived at the head of Baker Inlet near 7:30PM and were going to share the mountainous amphitheater with a fellow boater from Washington State. A trawler, Skylark, from Bellingham hailed us on VHF16. We switched to CH83 and had a friendly chat about cruising plans, favorite destinations and finally wishing each other safe voyage at sign off. This call occurred after our anchor was deployed but not before the chain was secured for the night.  I returned to the bow, kneeled between the “up” and “down” foot controls each with protective cover in the lifted position. This next move is critical as it involves grabbing the chain in front of the windlass, pulling a very small amount of slack and fitting a “chain stop” in the crotch of one link. The “chain stop” is a two inch square piece of tapered stainless steel that swivels on a half-inch steel pin mounted slightly above the chain and forward of the windlass. Its job is to transfer the weight of the chain and anchor to its point of contact on the one link, thus relieving the windlass of unnecessary and potentially damaging strain. More than 150 feet of 5/8 HT chain was deployed so obtaining slack required more than I could muster in a kneeling position.  With left hand still ahold of the chain, I shifted to my feet for leverage. My right foot landed firmly on the “up” control and what happened next, happened so fast that I don’t recall whether I lifted my foot or that my left hand being sucked into and jamming the gypsy stopped the motor. A moment of shock and I quickly used my left foot to depress the “down” control and the monstrous teeth released my hand. I kneeled there staring at my gloved hand.  It hurt. Reluctantly, I carefully removed the heavily padded leather glove and examined the damage. One finger was missing a nickel-sized piece of flesh at the most distal knuckle.  About one-third of the adjacent tip of the little finger was ripped back and deep. The bone on the palm at the base of the little finger was gashed to the white where a link had pressed through a double layer of glove leather to cut through the skin nearly to the bone. That was a bad one. Irritated, disgusted with my carelessness and worried about first aid, I capped the controls, inserted the “chain stop” and headed aft to inform Austin that I needed to work on my hand. Cleaning, disinfecting and finally applying Activ-Flex, wound sealing bandages with Austin’s help, I then poured a generous glass of scotch, at least three fingers worth.

Takeaways – respect your windlass. It eats chain for a main course and will gladly eat flesh appetizers. Its jaws are at least as powerful as a grizzly bear with teeth to match. Always, always cap the foot controls before working forward of or around the windlass. Wear gloves, they can save you when you do stupid things.  There are probably more lessons to reflect upon but I’m getting hungry. Think I’ll slice up some fruit.  Wish the boat would quit rocking…