The Case of the Missing Chainplates
The importance of chainplates can not be over emphasized, because when
they fail disaster
is eminent. Many sailboats have accessible
chainplates which are easy to inspect. Some,
especially older models,
60,s and 70,s vintage, have port and starboard chainplates which
are secured to plywood which is laminated and then secured to the structure.
Many companies
used plywood which is sandwiched between layers of woven
roving and secured to the hull with
woven roving. This technology would
be great if, over time, water did not leak through the deck
penetration
and saturate the plywood. Once the plywood is wet, rot begins to set in,
and it does
not take long before the chainplate supporting plywood is
rotted away completely. In order to
check these types of secured
chainplate supports they must be sounded and in some cases
core sampled.
Also, the securing bolts may be loose if the wood has rotted away.
Another
situation that is rare but serious, I will call the “Case of The Missing Chainplate”.
All boat owners are not created equal, as interior
decorating to some owners may be more
important to those darn things
that stick out over there, (chainplate supports). I got a call
one day from a judge who was having trouble collecting a settlement from his
insurance
company after a dismasting during his first race. I arrived at
the vessel with the judge and
was informed that the judge had been
working on the vessel for the past year and had
made serious
modifications to the interior so that it was very comfortable and just a
great live
aboard and summer home. The judge explained how the
dismasting occurred during his
first race while he was on a broad reach
with winds about 25 knots. He then explained
how his crew brought to
his attention that the deck, amidships, right along the starboard
side
was beginning to lift, a couple of inches at first and then a foot
during the next minute
or so. As luck would have it he said “a slight gust came along” and off went the mast to port.
The mast
was keel stepped and broke off clean at the deck and departed to the
water with
all attached gear and sails. Luckily no one was injured and
the vessel was towed back to
port. The good judge’s racing career was
temporarily put on hold. How was this possible
on such a large, well
designed, contemporary sloop? The good judge hired a crew to
remodel the
main salon in order to make it more spacious. The crew, he thought, was
great as they had done a wonderful job on his new kitchen at home. As
you might expect
the crew had no knowledge of vessel maintenance or
structures and simply removed
anything they could to make the main salon
more spacious. They removed the chainplates,
modified them and
re-secured them to the underside of the deck. A new head liner was
installed and everything looked great to the judge when the crew
departed. The bottom line
was that the insurance company declined to
pay the claim because of the modifications
which were made caused the
vessel to be unsafe. As removing chainplate supports
because there were
in the way is not acceptable.
In my
sailing experience, I have observed more than a few dismasted older
Pearsons and
Bristols towing their standing rigging back to port and
those were the lucky ones.
A dismasting under the right conditions can
be fatal to the vessel and its crew. Typically
the bow and stern plates
are visible as they are usually bolted right to the hull in plain sight
and any defect should be obvious. Over the years I have observed vessel
owners who were
preparing for a race tuning their rigging. In one case
the owner said to me, “this stay
was tight a few minutes ago, I
tightened it just a little more to be safe and now it is loose”.
A few
minutes later he and his crew sailed off for the Wednesday night club
race.
This owner had tightened the rigging
to the point of collapse, and he actually separated
the plywood mounted
chainplate from the hull. I could not believe he was sailing away.
Fortunately there was very little wind for the race that night and he
made it back to the
dock still unaware of what might have happened.