Boat Work is Dangerous, Go Cruising and Live Longer

When Boat Building Turns Dangerous

Who said cruising was a dangerous way of life? Braving the savage oceans of the world left no scars on my body, but boat building – that’s another story. That’s the truly dangerous part of boating. I can prove it with scars, missing digits, and pieces of metal embedded like shrapnel in my limbs. These grim experiences happened in boatyards and marinas – where the boats were safely and firmly tucked into their berths or cradles on dry, unmoving land.

The Drill Bit Incident

When Mike and I were refinishing Loreley in a marina at Point Robert’s, Washington, he was busily drilling tiny holes in magnificent strips of red cedar that were to clad the cabin interior. The drill lay on a table for a moment, as I dashed through the cabin. I tripped on the cord, and the drill hit me on the back of my heel, and I fell, clutching my foot and howling with pain. While I howled, Mike looked for the drill bit. Gone. Vanished into thin air.

He was more mad than sympathetic, as he could not finish his job. That night I barely slept as my foot throbbed like an abscessed tooth. The next day I could not put it on the ground and had to be half-carried to the car for another trip, this time to the emergency room at the nearest hospital. Sure enough, the surgeon showed us the X-ray plate of my foot. There, deep in the heel bone, was the drill bit!

“You’ve got to get it out!” said Mike anxiously to the surgeon.

Confidently, the surgeon assured Mike, “No, it will cause less trouble if we just leave it there, rather than do bone surgery to remove it.”

“NO,” said Mike, “You MUST take it out.”

“It will be fine, I promise you,” he assured Mike again. “There are many people in the world that live with pieces of metal in their bodies.”

“You don’t understand!” Mike said loudly, “I NEED that drill bit!”

It’s still there – 20 years later.

 

The Ultimate Injury

Mike managed the ultimate injury in a boatyard in California. He also managed to make it an advantage to be temporarily crippled.

I was inside the hull when he flew off the scaffolding. I heard a yell and a thud. Sure enough, when I got onto the deck, there he was lying on the ground next to the cradled Loreley. People came running to stand helplessly and stare. Then someone said, “Call the ambulance!” With that, Mike shook himself and started yelling in the strongest language he could muster, to inform them what he would do to them if they called an ambulance. His befuddled brain had not taken into account that he was unlikely to inflict any harm on the well-meaning friend if he could not even sit up – let alone stand. The vision of our meager savings flying out the portholes into the coffers of the Californian hospital system was enough to rouse him.

A doctor in the boatyard came over and examined him. He could not move his legs without considerable pain. He had landed on one side, hipbone to the ground, and I was certain that he had cracked his pelvis. Finally convinced, he allowed friends to move him onto our van for transportation to the hospital. He screamed as they lifted him.

My tears were not very useful, but it was about all I could think of to do, besides continuing the huge task of sanding the 46ft hull – alone.

Hours later (and much poorer), he returned. No broken bones, but many pulled muscles around the hip and groin area. He could not climb up the ladder into Loreley, so he slept in the van and had all meals brought to him. He couldn’t walk at all, and we had this expensive cradle in an expensive yard, expecting to be in and out in just a week. We couldn’t put the sanded hull back into the water at that stage, and it looked as if our extended time in the yard would break us financially by the time we were finished.

Asymetrical Sails

Friends to the Rescue

Our Californian friends rallied to help. While Mike was carried around in an armchair to direct operations, our friends sweated and slaved until Loreley was sprayed, shiny and new, and ready for launching. The easiest haul-out Mike ever had!

A Painful Lesson: Carpal Tunnel Syndrome

Months in California, doing a lot of boat work, and I noticed my hands were going numb, and I couldn’t use my fingers properly. I could not turn a page, lift coins off a counter, use the brakes on my bike, or pick my nose, etc. A doctor confirmed I had carpal tunnel syndrome. From all the boat work, the carpal nerves had been pinched off, and I needed surgery immediately, or I would be left with crippled hands.

First one hand, then the other – 6 weeks in plaster, just so I could continue to work on Loreley. Mike thought it was cheap at the price.

The Moral of the Story

Which just goes to prove – work is dangerous. Work is no good for you. Cruising is good. So stop the work before it kills you – and GO CRUISING!

Gwen Cornfield has written for ALL AT SEA since 2004.