I heard my name being called. First a whisper and then a little louder the second time…or maybe it was a third. I was disoriented. I heard a flapping noise. There was a strange motion. Right, I was below deck and about halfway to Bermuda. And I was about 60 minutes into a four-hour off watch, and the sounds had snapped me out of a deep REM cycle.
My feet found their way into my boots, I slung a lifejacket over my shoulder and emerged into bright sunlight. Shielding the sun with the main, I could see the spinnaker was wrapped twice around the furled headsail and was attempting another twist. The wind had dropped, and the boat had sailed too deep for only a moment, allowing the chute to get into this mischief. This needed to be cleaned up, and quickly, if we were to avoid a trip aloft in sloppy seas.
As sailors, we are persistently faced with making strategic decisions. Often these are benign, when the move you are about to make is laid out before you, giving you time and space to decide how best to do it, and to apply well-practiced strategies you already have in place. For instance, I typically sail on and off anchor—usually doublehanded—and so when entering any harbor, my wife, Alison, and I discuss a game plan. It often involves an exploratory lap and laying out a few if-then scenarios. If, for instance, the bottom looks too rocky as we go to drop the anchor, then we’ll fall off and head towards deeper water while we consider other spots.
But what happens when something unexpected occurs? The anchor chain jams on the windlass. The propeller snags a lobster pot. The dinghy painter slips the aft cleat, and the dinghy starts drifting away. This is when strategic decision making comes into play.
We may have encountered a similar situation before or played out a comparable what-if scenario in our heads, but there are bound to be a few new variables in play that complicate the course of action. Maybe it’s night. Perhaps there is a nearby lee shore. It could be two challenging events happening simultaneously.
When it’s a circumstance we haven’t fully prepared for, we need a different strategy. I follow a three-phase approach to these situations to achieve the best possible outcome, and I base it on a primary operating principle: Slow the situation down.
Phase One: Gather Information.
Clear communication, situational awareness, and appropriate alarms—such as an AIS alarm, bilge alarm, engine temp indicator—are key to even knowing there is a decision to be made. In short: paying attention. Once that external and/or internal bell has been sounded, it’s time to take in more information. This encompasses observations from our full surroundings, inside the boat and the waters around it. A first pass should only take a matter of seconds and should let you answer the questions: Is my crew in immediate danger? Is my vessel in direct peril? What is the impact on the environment around me? We are promptly determining the urgency of the situation with a prioritization approach. Having sails down and a stalled engine in building surf off a lee shore obviously requires a much faster response than if we are on a mooring and discover a frayed halyard.
That cursory probe determines the amount of time we can take for more information gathering and lets us consider what short-term options we have to buy more time (slow the situation down). If we are sailing into a tight anchorage and a headsail furler jams, that puts the vessel at risk. We need to act reasonably quickly. However, if we tack and head back out to sea, we can regroup and take more time to better understand the problem.
We should keep a heads-up approach and consider the entire picture. Focusing too much on details inside the boat can cause us to miss important factors outside, like that container ship closing in from 5 nautical miles away. Likewise, aspects of the boat, like that spinnaker sheet dragging in the water or the low house battery voltage, must equally be considered. Don’t overlook the human elements either. What is the state of your team? Are they sleep-deprived? Cold? Hungry?
In the spinnaker wrap situation, I was sailing a 46-foot monohull with a sloop rig. There were four of us onboard, all unharmed, with lifejackets on. We were well offshore, no traffic in sight. It was midday, the wind was under 8 knots, and we were in sloppy, 7-foot rollers. The boom was hooked up to the preventer. We were moving along at 4 knots and still had steerage. We had two wraps of the spinnaker around the headstay and a third was imminent.
A quick assessment spelled out that the crew was safe, and we weren’t posing a danger to any other boats, marine life, or the ocean. The hull was not threatened, but some equipment (the spinnaker) was at risk of being damaged. A quick tug down on the spinnaker proved it wasn’t going to give in easily. To buy time, we opted to head up 15 degrees, stopping the swirling effect of the wind on the spinnaker, and pulling anything still somewhat flying to leeward (note we were in very light air). This stabilized the situation.
Phase Two: Identify Options.
With an assembly of information, distill that to the most pertinent details. If we’re dealing with a possible electrical fire, we shouldn’t be too concerned with the telltale that just flew off the jib, but the water dripping above the electrical panel is notable.
Leverage this to develop potential plans of action. Focus on carving a path to the outcome we want or need, and understanding what steps are necessary to overcome the hurdles to get there. Determine what is critical and what is not immediately important.
If we just shredded our mainsail halfway through an Atlantic crossing, our solutions will be focused on how to continue sailing for an extended period and likely involve undertaking repairs or adapting another sail onboard. If the same event happens during a 25-mile passage to Nantucket, we are focused on continuing for hours, not weeks. Delaying repairs and sailing under headsail alone or starting up the engine are viable options. The goals and timeframe matter. Use reason and aim for simplicity.
If everything urgent is settled, this is a great time to make a cup of tea, have a snack, or put on a fresh layer—maybe even take a nap—give yourself some energy to think clearly.
Sometimes the best way forward is to take a step backward. Plans should be flexible, and changing the goal is also an option—be creative. Solutions are not always a straight line. Ducking into a new harbor or figuring out how to partially rewire a compromised solar array is part of the adventure.
Where do experience and training come in? They are already playing a part. They let us gather information faster and quickly identify better options.
Remember the importance of communication within any plan, regardless of the situation. We are not alone out there, and keeping others aware of our intentions lets them make better strategic decisions that will only benefit us.
Applying this phase to our spinnaker conundrum: The tangled kite wasn’t going to free itself, unfortunately. A last resort would be to cut it down, but we put that at the end of our options list. We could try easing the halyard and tack line and pull down harder, with a few of us. One of us could go aloft and manually pull it around the rolled genoa a couple times. The genoa was furled in the right direction that we could furl it more and it would rotate the spinnaker out of the twist (hopefully). With our sloop rig, we could also spin the boat in a couple of circles, tacking and jibing, and that would likely free it from the furled genoa.
All of these choices led us to the third phase of solving this problem.
Phase Three: Weigh Choices and Select a Path Forward.
We are balancing benefits and risks in our decision, determining the potential impacts on the crew, vessel, and the environment around us. Understand the compromises and play out the potential outcomes (more what-if scenarios). Everything carries tradeoffs. Pick the tradeoffs that you can accept.
It helps to frame solutions from the viewpoints of others, even if that’s just an imaginary third-person view. First, this ensures we are managing our emotions—making long-term beneficial decisions and not just satisfying momentary desires or reactions to the situation. Second, it lets us step back to ensure core issues are being addressed. If we’re cold and seasick, getting back to land sounds way more attractive than it should—since approaching land in weather rough enough to make you seasick can be riskier than it’s worth. That’s especially true if all we’re really facing is a flogging boom and a broken mainsheet shackle.
We would love to solve the root cause of an issue instead of symptoms, but that isn’t always practical. Don’t let perfection get in the way of a workable solution. Replacing a leaking seacock 300 miles offshore is far from simple and carries high risk; stopping or slowing the leak until reaching a haul-out location is safer and more practical.
With a solution in hand, don’t be afraid to later admit it isn’t going to work. Variables change, and some ideas just don’t play out as we envision. Run through this process again and learn from the first attempt.
We still need a solution for this tangled spinnaker. Going back to sleep would have been nice, but that spinnaker wouldn’t last long like that if the breeze picked up. The light air and lumpy sea state made going aloft dangerous. It also meant spinning the boat in a couple circles would be a challenging and lengthy task. Pulling down harder on the chute would likely yield the same results as the knife approach. That left one low-risk option. With eyes on, we slowly over-furled the headsail. The two wraps turned to one and then pop, the spinnaker was full. Now we were closing in on Bermuda again.
Conclusion
When it comes to strategic decision making, time can be your enemy because of the pressure of the situation. Your main goal will be to make time your friend to relieve that pressure—especially in situations that require more time to analyze. What can you do to neutralize any immediate danger? Always work to slow down the situation.
Every circumstance will be different, but this framework for strategic decision making can be applied to anything that arises. It is a process that may be completed in under 10 seconds, or over multiple days for more complicated matters. And while nobody really enjoys getting into emergency or tense situations onboard, applying a problem-solving approach like this can make it far more tolerable—and maybe, in the end, even rewarding in more ways than just getting out of hot water. Self-sufficiency onboard and that feeling of success are tough to beat.
March 2025
