Thursday, January 11, 2018

New-gen anchors are now-gen

I must admit that before I told the proponents of so-called “New-Gen” anchors to get off my lawn I had a moment’s hesitation. Could there really be something new that would make me give up  tried-and-true options like my CQR and Danforth anchors that had kept my boat’s secure through many blows?

Frankly, I am a bit of an experimenter when it comes to anchors. Before setting off on a two-year voyage to Panama and back I purchased a little-known option to grace my boat’s bow, a Bulwagga. Based on mostly a few vague test reports and the strong testimonial of a friend who was using one I took a leap of faith, which indicated I had some lingering doubts in the back of my mind about the traditional equipment used in many anchoring dramas. Drama is not something you want when anchoring!

Old Faithfuls
First, it has to be recognized that there is a lot more to anchoring than simply tossing over the latest design that is touted to compensate for your inadequate technique. People like the Hiscocks, the Roths, and the Pardeys have managed to blunder around the world many times using the “Old Faithfuls” like CQR, Danforth, and even the Bruce. The latter I have never had respect for after having personally fended off quite a few boats dragging down or scraping along my sides while supposedly “anchored” with a Bruce. There are those who swear by (instead of at) the Bruce, but it should be noted that they always recommend an enormous size.

I will admit that some anchors are probably great, if you are allowed to use twice the weight! However, my wife, who usually lowers the hook, doesn’t agree. Most of us prefer anchors that offer great holding power at a reasonable weight that can be readily handled by a short-handed crew. I was reminded of this in a remote part of the Caribbean when we met a couple onboard a large trawler yacht that were in a pickle. Their enormously powerful windlass had packed up and they were unable to haul their 150-pound anchor onboard. The nearest possible repairs were over 200 miles away. A bunch of cruisers formed a human windlass and hauled the anchor up, then wished the couple “good luck” as they set off for a non-stop trip to safety with only a single chance to anchor if required.

A New Kid on the Block
It is not clear where or when the New-Gen anchors arrived on the scene. Some will argue that none are really new--only developments of ideas that had been tried previously, but now combined into a new paradigm. In any case, I believe the person who possibly coined the term “new-generation anchors” was Peter Smith of New Zealand, the designer of the original Rocna anchor. He at least popularized the term, and he started a new battle in the anchor wars that have raged since someone tied a rock to a rope and compared it to his friend’s inadequate rock.

I’m a veteran of several anchor war skirmishes, but have since retreated to a safe anchorage where I try to remain neutral. Unfortunately, my refuge anchorages are frequently invaded by barbarian hordes sporting archaic steel weapons on their bows. Based on many unwanted close encounters in squalls, thunderstorms, tropical storms, and gales I have become an anchor voyeur--carefully examining, while trying to look nonchalant, the weaponry displayed when others seek safe anchorage near my boat. I peer out of my pilothouse with binoculars at the inadequate appendages on your bows, and begin to mutter under my breath when I see something truly embarrassing. In recent years I have begun to notice that the difference between meeting someone at 2am as they drag past and having a good night’s sleep is often related to the vintage of your hook.

What brought me to this? The answer arrived in a mysteriously flat box one day. My new Mantus anchor came disassembled, but was quickly put together with several ordinary bolts, nuts, and washers. If nothing else, the sheer genius of creating a take-apart anchor had me nearly won over. One can easily imagine the advantages of being able to stow a spare, taken apart, down below, or possibly keeping that great big storm anchor somewhere deep in the bowels of the boat for that one time you need it.

Why the Mantus? In addition to the take-apart advantage, the Mantus had all the cool stuff that the new-gen gurus were writing about: a large and scoopy spoon-shaped fluke with a very sharp point, an arched shank and big rollbar designed to always flip the anchor upright into its burying position, and a relatively thin shank to aid deep penetration. It also features strong construction with no hinge, and all sorts of bragged about geometry that sounded wonderful.

As someone who has anchored successfully in all weather with anchors designed back in the first half of the 20th century I am not easily impressed by hype. I had to try for myself. One of my first experiments with the Mantus was on a night with lightish winds, but in the Taunton River with a strong reversing current. We spent the evening anchored with a large fleet watching July 4th fireworks off of Fall River, Massachusetts. Most of the boats were on short scope, and the best anchoring techniques had not been used in the rush to get to the beer coolers. Of course the wind picked up after dark around the same time the current reversed, and the two forces opposed each other. The anchorage became a mess of boats of all sizes and types spinning in all directions with crews pulling up dragging anchors. Through it all the Mantus stayed put with no fuss, though we too had anchored in haste with little thought to setting for a blow. A modest test, but good to know.

Subsequently, we have Mantused our way around Southeast New England for several years, testing the anchor out in a variety of familiar places where we have anchored many times with the barbarians using old-gen equipment. Cuttyhunk is one of my favorite spots. We know the harbor, the bottom, and how anchors perform there. I have anchored inside hundreds of times--it’s easy because I just drop my anchor in the same hole I have been using for decades! In reality, it can be a challenging anchorage due to many weedy areas, almost never enough room to let out adequate scope, changing winds that can reverse in the middle of the night unexpectedly, and the proximity of numerous other boats that may not be all that familiar with the whims of how to properly use ground tackle. In this anchorage we have been t-boned in the night by a dragging four-boat raft up, we have anchored through numerous gales, tropical storms, and Hurricane Bob, and we have tested many popular anchor types: Danforth, Fortress, CQR, Bulwagga, and now Mantus.

Though we anchored routinely with the Mantus for several years before getting caught in a big blow, the first real test came in the Columbus Day Weekend gale of 2016. It wasn’t a survival storm, but we had solid 40-knot winds with higher gusts for many hours. The Mantus held firm with no dragging and no fuss, though our anchor chain snubber line did break in the middle of the night. It was the first time that had ever happened, indicating it was a pretty good test of our anchoring gear.

The Devil is in the Details
Since that experience, and after numerous other minor blows, I have gained tremendous confidence in my New-Gen anchor. But why is it better than my old CQRs and other traditional gear?

First, that very sharp point definitely aids penetration, especially if the bottom is weedy or a bit hard. We always lower the anchor carefully until it reaches the bottom. We then let out chain gradually, with periodic snubbing as the boat drifts back on the wind. Very soon after getting our new anchor we noticed something different in this process. Almost from the time the anchor is on the bottom there is a solid bite. There is never any squishy feeling as you often get as a plow-type anchor does its thing and plows along the bottom. The Mantus just penetrates right away. Because of this, it is not a good idea to dump the anchor and chain and then let the boat fly downwind until it comes to a sudden and abrupt halt--you might break something!

The second thing we noticed early on with the Mantus is that there is a slight possibility of fouling the anchor by dumping it abruptly to the bottom, allowing the chain to loop under and catch on one of the “ears” where the big hoop is bolted to the anchor. It doesn’t happen often, but we have managed to foul the anchor a couple of times. Once you get used to the usual solid and early bite the anchor makes you will be able to tell if something is wrong, because if it isn’t you get that squishy feeling from the old plow anchor days. Other anchors with hoops, like Rocnas and Mansons, do not have bolt-on hoops and would not suffer from this problem.

Despite the early and strong bite these anchors make we still try to lay out adequate scope of at least 5:1 with all chain, or more if there is a big blow. However, many times I have had to shorten things up in places like Cuttyhunk as the harbor fills up and others begin to crowd around. I feel pretty secure on as little as 3:1 in ordinary wind conditions, and we have never dragged once the anchor has been set in a mud bottom. Set it by backing down hard at 5:1 scope and you can almost immediately shorten things up if you need to. We have also used the Mantus in sandy mud, shelly conditions, smallish rocks, and extreme weed with good success. This is a truly universal anchor, though I can’t claim experience in pure sand as is found in the Bahamas and Caribbean.

The aforementioned hoop on the Mantus is larger than on some other New-Gen.  anchors. I am not certain, but it seems this aids in shedding mud and weeds when weighing anchor. The large scoop-shaped flukes on these anchors tend to bring up a big ball of muck and junk at times, and I have noticed that some of the non-Mantus designs are a bit harder to clean in this regard. The bigger hoop means there is more space between the hoop and the flukes.

A bonus with the hoop design is that it makes for the perfect handle to use when manhandling the anchor off and on the bow roller or moving it around deck. The lack of a hinge between the shank and the head, like the CQR uses, also makes the anchor much easier to physically move around. The hinged designs always flop one way or the other, inevitably pinching fingers and banging shins.
The thin shank of the Mantus definitely does aid in penetration, compared to some thick-shanked designs like the old CQR. I have observed both anchor types when on the bottom, and the CQR shank was often on its side and not really buried, while the Mantus does tend to roll upright and dig downward. Strangely, despite burying well I have found that when you are retrieving the anchor it comes out of the bottom much more easily once the boat is right over it. After a big blow it would sometimes take an hour or more to pull out a CQR and I have spent half a day pulling Fortresses and Danforth anchors out of the bottom. Not so with the Mantus.

Another touted feature that we have proven in real-world testing is the amazing ability of New-Gen hooks to reset when the wind shifts. Cuttyhunk is notorious for sudden shifts in the middle of the night when a land breeze overwhelms the prevailing sea breeze. We have been through many 2am anchoring drills when a zephyr of a southwest wind turns into a honking blast of northeast off the land. Needless to say, the many boats on short scope due to inadequate room and poor technique often go whistling away in the dark. If possible, we try to anchor with nobody behind us for this very reason.

In any case, we have found that even these complete reversals in a matter of moments are handled well by the Mantus. We’ve also been through quite a few big thunderstorms with winds clocking around from all directions, often more than once--no problem! These New-Gen hooks just reset with the clever combination of the big hoop keeping the pointy end pointed down, the sharp point aiding quick penetration, and the thin but stiff shank with no hinge forcing the anchor to rotate to face the new direction.

Another New-Gen anchor that doesn’t use a hoop, the Spade, gets away with it by having a very heavily weighted tip that makes sure the point stays down. Though I have no direct experience with a Spade I have observed several anchoring upwind of me and they seem to do well overall, with one or two dragging incidents observed. I’m not sure if the point and head area is a bit too blunt for weedy bottoms, and maybe the lack of a hoop does make penetration iffier. There are not a lot of Spade anchors in the wild to be observed in comparison to the hoop types, so it is harder to draw conclusions. I’ll have to experiment with one some day!

Anchoring Perfection?
About the biggest negative factor with the Mantus is that it doesn’t fit on my bow roller arrangement all that well compared to the traditional anchors that existed when the boat was built. The long, thing shank reaches a bit further back and doesn’t allow me to easily snug the anchor up tight to the roller. It is bad enough that I remove the anchor and wedge the hoop into my bow pulpit at times to prevent the anchor from bashing around. At other times I use lashings to keep it in place. However, I suspect it would fit well on a roller arrangement that was designed for something like a Delta anchor (fixed shank plow type).

You might be tempted to try a New-Gen anchor that is one size smaller than your old-gen, but I don’t see the point. If your anchoring windlass and other gear is sized for a 45-pounder you might as well use a 45-pound New-Gen and gain extra holding power. It will rarely be needed, but it is nice to know it’s there.

If you need something lighter carry a couple of smaller Fortress aluminum hooks. They are not really “new-gen” anchors since they are refined versions of the older steel Danforth anchors dating back to the early 20th century. In many independent tests the Danforth and Fortress pattern anchors offer the most holding power per pound in straight-line pulls (when properly dug in). They make fantastic secondary anchors for when you need to kedge a boat off the ground, or for creating a Bahamian moor, or for rowing out in the dinghy with a long rope rode when a big blow is suspected. However, they do not reset reliably in dramatic wind shifts, and they are more finicky to get set in the first place. They are also very difficult to retrieve once they’ve been buried after a big blow. They are notoriously bad in most weedy bottoms. A belt-and-braces approach to anchoring is to carry more than one type of anchor for different conditions, and the Fortress is a great complement to a New-Gen main anchor.

Bottom Line
Binocular peeping has convinced me that when someone is anchoring upwind I want them to be using a hoopy New-Gen anchor; however, I can understand the reluctance to give up on a tried-and-true old friend that you have dragged around anchorages all over the world. I have been there, done that, and decided to move on. There are several different brands and types of New-Gen anchors, but I don’t think you can go wrong with one of the popular designs with a hoop. I have observed good performance from Mantus, Rocna, Spade, and Manson. The Knox is another interesting looking design from a Scottish company, but I have never seen one. I’m sure there are others equally as good or better, but you may want to start your new-gen experiments with one that has a well-known track record. Choose one that fits your boat, your eye, and your wallet, and give it a go!

To ease the transition I suggest putting the New-Gen anchor on the bow, but keep the old-gen lashed on deck nearby, just in case. It will make a great toe stubber!

This article was published in the January-February 2018 issue of Ocean Navigator.

Monday, September 25, 2017

Wisdom of the Snowbirds

After the recent disasters of Irma and Maria in the Caribbean and in Florida many are wondering what can be done to protect their boats during Hurricane Season. Well, #1 is to not be in hurricane prone areas in the first place! We have been spoiled by relatively quiet hurricane seasons for several decades, and many boaters have forgotten the wisdom of the not-so-ancients who would never venture south of Cape Hatteras/Norfolk before November 1.

Today we are seeing harbors like Marathon in the Florida Keys packed with boats in August and September when they used to be nearly empty. It was inevitable that a big storm would come along and demonstrate why the old wisdom was to stay north until after November. This is the wisdom of the snowbirds.

When I first started heading south from New England in the 1980s this snowbird wisdom was ingrained in the boating public. We all headed to the Chesapeake for the big Annapolis boat shows around Columbus Day, then meandered south down the Chesapeake to Norfolk around Halloween time.

Yes, we did occasionally encounter the late-season hurricane in those years, but we weren't trapped in a place like Marathon with few alternatives but to ride it out and hope for the best. Between Virginia and Florida there are literally thousands of "hurricane holes" up winding creeks, and with modern forecasting and the usual week or so of warning most boaters can move several hundred miles up or down the ICW to get into a better position.

I understand that many boaters in places like Marathon consider it "home," and if you have a job or kids in school it is very hard to leave when a hurricane is headed your way. But, I can't beat around the bush--that is a bad plan for your life on a boat!

Some estimates are that 75% of the boats in Boot Key Harbor in Marathon were either sunk or blown ashore. I'm not sure accurate numbers will ever come out, but the general scale of the problem was dramatically illustrated during Irma. Marathon is not a good place to spend Hurricane Season!

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Get off the dock in a hurricane

Your boat is almost always better on a mooring and/or on anchors than at the dock in a hurricane. Docks feel solid and reassuring in normal conditions, or even in pretty severe storms, but the difference in a hurricane can be storm surge. The photo was taken during Hurricane Bob with our boat at the time, Echo, on a mooring with anchors out in Cuttyhunk. Only three boats in the harbor broke loose, and they were all due to either inadequate mooring lines or too little scope. One boat picked up its mooring and dragged it ashore. If they had put out 50 feet of line the boat would have been fine.

Why were we there? Simple, the storm was predicted to go right over us, or very close, and the storm surge was predicted to be 10 feet or more. I think we had close to 10 feet. The fishing dock and the ferry dock were under water in Cuttyhunk. Four-wheelers and large propane tanks floated off of land and drifted by us. A small shack floated by, roof upside down, like a boat.

If we had been tied to the fixed docks everything would have been under water. Lines would have to be either impossibly tight, or terribly loose. Even if our boat didn't break loose or float off other boats would have, and they would be right next to us. Watch the videos from Irma of boats sinking in slips, tied securely to pilings and docks, due to collisions with the marina infrastructure or other boats.

Yes, if your are on a mooring or anchor your lines could break, and your anchors can drag. But, at least your boat is pointed into the wind and seas and it can have a chance. When tied up to a dock you are at the mercy of the wind direction and how well your neighbor has prepared, and how well the marina has maintained everything. But, get a 10-20 foot storm surge, and nobody is prepared. At anchor or on a mooring your boat has a chance. Add extra lines and extra scope and the boat can rise with the rising water.

Give your boat a chance in a hurricane.

Tuesday, September 05, 2017

Hurricane! Secure your car.

With Hurricane Irma bearing down on the Leeward Islands and a landfall in the USA looking very possible as of today, I thought of doing a blog post on hurricane preparation. It is an important topic, but today I will review an equally important subject for boaters: what to do with your car during a tropical storm.

Seriously, your car is often extremely important both before, during, and after a storm. It is likely to be how you get to your boat in the first place, assuming you aren't living aboard. It may be your escape hatch if the storm proves to be too threatening or if the worst occurs and your boat is damaged, aground, or possibly sunk. Third, once the storm has passed your car may be the only means to escape the damaged area, and it will likely be your lifeline to obtain food, water, and repair materials.

Keep the car filled with gasoline, if possible, and consider storing some spare water and supplies there. My trunk always has things like jumper cables and even a small starter battery that doubles as a cell phone charger. Being able to escape a wet, damaged boat and possibly even spend a night in a dry car with a charged cell phone might look pretty good after a storm. You may even consider storing some important valuables in the car, if you can find a great spot to leave it.

The other day I heard a great tip while watching a weatherman talking about the flooding during Hurricane Harvey in Houston. He said check out your height above sea level by using the compass app on your iPhone. My Android phone doesn't come with a native compass app, but there are many in the Play Store and quite a few do include height above sea level. I'm still researching which ones are good and which ones prove to be accurate, but this can be an extremely valuable piece of information to have when thinking about where to put your car. Protection from wind and debris will mean nothing if the car is flooded--seek higher ground!

This often means abandoning the marina parking lot, which is frequently located strategically right next to the docks and the harbor--not the place to avoid damaging storm surges that come with hurricanes. In New England, one can often walk inland a couple of blocks and you'll notice that you are going uphill. Florida, not so much. In fact, it may not be possible to find a place immune to tropical storm flooding within a reasonable distance from the marina. If that is the case, consider parking garages that allow you to go up a floor or two. These tend to be strongly built structures which may also provide shelter from the wind, and more importantly flying debris.

Until you have experienced a hurricane or two it is hard to appreciate the dangers of debris flying through the air. Maybe you have noticed that people cover large building windows with plywood sheets. Think of your car windows enduring the same pummeling. However, don't even think about trying to cover your car with any sort of normal cover. It will either shred in the storm, and/or flap so much the car's paint will be ruined--probably both.

I actually search for parking opportunities that allow me to either point the car into the wind or go stern (rear bumper) to, and downwind of a large, sturdy structure made of concrete. If you park close to such a structure, with the nose of the car up towards a wall, it can prevent rain from driving into the engine compartment under the force of 100 mph winds, and anything that is blowing through the air will be blocked.

Believe it or not, these types of parking opportunities are something I note during the boating season. Where can I park the car, nearish my boat, with protection from likely storm force winds, high enough above sea level to be safe from flooding, and also a place that the car can be left without fear of being towed or broken into? It can be tough to find such a place, so start making mental notes as you explore the area near a new marina or mooring.

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Further thoughts on going Aground!

I was reading a great Panbo post on a grounding in Camden harbor, and it reminded me of some things to think of when dealing with groundings. Panbo, by the way, written by Ben Ellison, is the best boating blog about marine electronics there is, and a must read about everything boating too.

Why do we go aground in the first place? I believe #1 on the list is loss of "situational awareness." What exactly does this mean? Think of the U.S. Navy ships getting run down by commercial vessels in Asian waters, which unfortunately has happened a bit too frequently lately. Here are ships presumably equipped with not only the latest in navigational equipment, but also crewed by extremely well trained and disciplined teams of people who should know exactly what is going on all around them. Yet, two large ships collide with good visibility and no apparent reasons why. What happens?

#1, I am convinced, is the great demand put on everyone to monitor all the amazing navigation equipment we have nowadays. Think of all that gear, people staring at screens, punching in coordinates, noting courses and bearings, monitoring radios, listening to commands, etc., etc. No matter how well trained, how well equipped, or how well disciplined there is only so much information the mind can process and at a limited speed too. Couple that with night vision being ruined by staring at brightly lit screens, while also being constantly distracted by people coming and going, coffee being delivered, and all the whatnot that goes on with many people around and it is a recipe for disaster.

How does this relate to us ordinary Joe Blows sailing the coast in small boats? The same exact problem can rear its ugly head. I was sailing offshore behind a large catamaran that was equipped with all the mod cons, including radar, chart plotters, etc. Offshore the watch stayed below watching videos while assuming that various alarms would alert them that something needed actual attention. However, even if the alarm worked, it takes a few minutes to scramble out of the cabin, and then your eyes aren't adjusted to the dark, and it is very easy to turn the wrong way, let go of the wrong line, or trip over something lurking in the dark. I had to call this boat on the VHF repeatedly to warn them they were sailing directly into the path of an enormous cruise ship, lit up like a city, miles from land, traveling at high speed and likely on autopilot. The alarms didn't work, the crew wasn't watching, disaster was close at hand.

Entering some crowded gunkhole you may have to deal with the same issues. The depth sounder alarm starts blaring painfully, your wife is shouting something from the galley, the chart plotter is glared out in the sun, the harbormaster is yakking about something on the radio, boats are jammed all around on moorings, people are board sailing and paddle boarding across the channel, your dinghy painter is too long, the engine is overheating, and your hoping to get anchored in time to catch the water taxi. Your boat comes to a sudden stop and your brain is crashing due to sensory overload. Where exactly am I? Why have I come to a crashing stop? Is that the bilge alarm going off? What is that cruiser shouting at me?

In other words, too much information, too quickly. Just like on those Navy bridges. But, what is the answer? You don't want to abandon the chart plotters, radar, VHF radio, depth sounders, etc. I often find that the simplest answer is often the best. Reduce clutter. Turn off depth alarms. Use a printed chart that you can see in bright light and won't be at the wrong scale. Turn the VHF radio way down or maybe even off if it is a distraction. Reduce your speed--create more time for your brain to process all the information. The other day I was sitting on the beach next to a popular channel when a big boat approached at high speed, then suddenly throttled way down, actually went into reverse, did a 360, then entered the channel at dead slow and under control. I admire that skipper for suddenly realizing that life was coming at him way too swiftly and a little bit of patience would probably make the day go much better. I have gone so far as to tell guests to stop talking to me and/or realize that I may or may not answer. If they ignore my suggestion, I just ignore them. Better to be a social outcast and afloat than the life of the party and aground!

Monday, August 21, 2017


OK, you've gone aground. I always say if you haven't gone aground you haven't gone anywhere. Typically, there is no need to panic (is there ever?). The first step is to check the state of the tide, if you don't already have it in your mind. If it is falling, you have to work quickly. On the other hand, maybe the tide is on the rise, where patience becomes a virtue.

Hopefully, you've chosen your cruising boat so that it has a hull shape and underbody that can take the ground with reasonable safety and without any major damage. I have been on a full-keel sailboat that piled up on solid rock--boulders actually--and managed to nestle down amongst them with no major damage. A sharp fin keel with exposed rudder and prop might not do so well. A catamaran can usually rest upright with little fuss.

Many feel an urgent need to call for a tow, with the likely prospect of a $1000 bill or more, and the potential for greater damage. I have witnessed many a boat get pulled off a grounding by powerful engines and lots of skill, but with inevitable damage, when simply waiting for the tide would have done nothing more than scrape off some bottom paint.

Yes, there are situations where the tide is falling, possibly the wind is driving you ashore, and maybe large waves are pounding your vessel. Maybe, that is the time to call for a tow, but keep in mind the inevitable cost and potential for disaster. Most of us try to avoid with extra care any close calls with the bottom when there is any hint of a dangerous wind or sea, so hopefully your grounding will be like most: in a sheltered spot where waiting for tidal help will suffice.

Of course, I would always make sure to put out an anchor in the direction of deep water to both help pull the boat off when the tide rises, and also as insurance in case the prop is fouled or damaged. You may be surprised how much power you can generate with a well dug in anchor leading back to a powerful windlass and/or cockpit winches. I have literally dragged my boat back into deep water when the engine wouldn't budge her. Sometimes, all it takes is a little steering with the anchor line to get the boat pointed in the right direction. And, other times, the best route out is backwards, with the anchor line leading off the stern.

Having a dinghy handy with a portable depth sounder can be a great help. My dinghy has long oars that allow me to poke around and find deep water quickly. A boat hook or even a mop handle can do the same. You don't need lots of extra water--just enough to float your boat.

A tow should be your last resort, whether by your own dinghy or someone else's boat. Chances are that most of us don't have cleats strong enough for the strains of a serious tow, and rigging extra lines and such is time consuming if you are in a rush. Heed the first paragraph--a falling tide means you need to work fast. Sometimes all you need is a lightweight anchor that can be taken out quickly in a dinghy, and you can be back afloat in five minutes. I have performed this maneuver many times when my own engine wasn't enough.

Some people recommend hauling a sailboat over using a halyard as a way to reduce draft. In my experience this is both very difficult to achieve and also likely to break something, and often fails too--a trifecta of hopelessness! First, you need a big powerful tow boat to heel your boat over, and it has to be shallow draft and on scene. All of those things are unlikely to be present. And then you need a very strong halyard and mast, and hope it doesn't jump the masthead sheeve and jam permanently, if it doesn't break first. This all assumes that you can arrange everything quickly enough to avoid the falling tide--if the tide is rising, why bother? Of course, this idea doesn't work at all if you have a catamaran or powerboat.

A grounding is a situation where your first actions need to be swift, deliberate, and appropriate to the particular set of circumstances. Calling for a tow is usually not the first, second, or third option that should be tried. Good luck!