Depending on your boat’s setup (windlass, bow roller, etc.), it could be a challenge to attach the Anchor Snubber in a very rough or windy anchorage. We have come across this occasionally and this is what we do.
Lower your anchor to the desired depth.
Attach a short line with a chain hook to your chain, cleat off the line, and lower your chain down a couple more feet.
This will take the tension off your anchor chain, allowing you to attach the Anchor Snubber on the slack portion (be sure not to leave more than 12-14″ of slack chain between the shackles)
Release the tension on the chain hook, remove it, and lower your anchor so that the Anchor Snubber is located a few feet above the waterline.
Once you do this a couple times it will go pretty easy, but it is never an easy task to perform anchor maneuvers in a rough or windy anchorage. Hopefully once at anchor, the Anchor Snubber will soften your ride.
Having a 20′ length of 1/2″ line with a chain hook near your ground tackle or windlass is always a good idea anyway; they are very useful for securing your chain in the event of a windlass jam or failure.
The constant jarring of your anchor chain coming tight during a rough night is not only noisy and annoying, it’s dangerous. Shock loading to your chain, swivels, windlass, chocks and cleats will weaken them over time with the possibility of a catastrophic failure.
The Shockles® Anchor Snubber is the best solution. This heavy-duty Shockle is designed specifically to reduce shock to your boat and ground tackle. It is made from tough, marine-grade shock cord encased in sun-resistant nylon webbing with a patented internal system that limits the ultimate stretch of the snubber.
On either end is a captive 316 stainless-steel shackle with a captive pin—you won’t lose either the shackle or pin while working on a bucking foredeck. Simply lower your anchor to working depth, attach one end of the Anchor Snubber to your chain (will fit any size chain from ¼” to 3/8”), take a 12” length of slack chain, and attach the other shackle (keeping an 8” – 12” length of slack chain between the shackles), lower another few feet and secure.
The Anchor Snubber will act as a shock absorber on your chain, keeping the banging noise and shock as your chain comes tight to a minimum. Using an Anchor Snubber will also help to keep your anchor stay set by reducing constant shock loading during strong winds or in rough conditions. It is strong (rated to 2,500#), simple to attach and remove, and will work on any size boat or anchor—one size fits all.
What really makes this Shockle special is its patented ‘progressive’ design. The Anchor Snubber only takes 100# to stretch the first few inches—a nice gentle reminder to your boat to behave! As it stretches to full length the tension required to lengthen it increases, ensuring that there is sufficient force to protect your boat.
Using a Shockles LineGrabber™, you can also attach an Anchor Snubber to any line or anchor rode. Simply wrap the LineGrabber around your rode and attach the Anchor Snubber as you would to chain, being sure to keep a small length of slack line between the shackles. The Anchor Snubber is not only unique, it is versatile.
The Shockles PetKeeper was recently reviewed in Hobby Farm Home magazine.
Keep your dog safe on a country walk or in your truck with the Shockles PetKeeper. One of the most versatile leashes we’ve seen, the PetKeeper can be clipped to just about anything: fences, railings, bike racks, your belt, you name it. Even better? The PetKeeper is stretchy, which prevents the leash from being yanked out of your hand when Rover spies a squirrel.
On our boat, the F/V Shockles, we built a ‘Shockle Locker’ to hold our various Shockles – keeping them handy for any use. This includes Big Shockles, Mini-Shockles, ShockStraps, and SofTies. The key is to keep them in an ‘out-of-the-way’ place that is still easily accessible.
We tried storing them in a big laundry basket but that turned into a jumbled mess.
We tried hanging them in the aft lazarette but it was too difficult to access quickly.
We tried keeping them in various places around the boat but it seemed we never had the right one in the right place.
Then we hit upon the idea for our Shockle Locker.
We found the perfect place: the unused space behind the steps leading into the aft stateroom. It was plenty wide (24″) to accommodate a 1/4″ stainless rod that we stuck into two wood blocks that were screwed to the bulkhead. The Shockles are easily accessible and we can instantly see what we have so we can find the perfect size for the job.
What jobs?
How about:
securing our spare anchor (ShockStrap)
securing the small boom to the mast when not in use (MiniShockles)
cinching down the boom when it is rigged so it doesn’t swing around (12″ F2)
lashing all our dock lines to the rails when not in use (18″ MiniShockles)
tieing our inflatable kayaks to the sides of the flying bridge (24″ MiniShockles)
securing our power cord to the rail (6″ MiniShockle)
lashing folding deck chairs when not in use (ShockStraps)
securing kayak paddles to the railings (12″ MiniShockles)
main anchor snubber (18″ F3)
hanging boat hooks and fishing nets from the railings (SofTies)
hanging spare lines in the lazarette (12″ MiniShockles)
tieing down the bimini so it won’t flap in the wind when not in use (12″ MiniShockles)
holding down the bimini in high winds (ShockStraps with Rhino Clips
So where is your Shockle Locker? Send us a photo of your locker or how you use your Shockles and we will post them on our blog!
On August 7 , 2009, two friends and I took off on our motorcycles to ride from the California/Oregon border to the Washington/Oregon border.
Big deal, you might say. Ha! Try doing it all on dirt. Barely discernable rails and forest roads, over steep, rocky, mountain passes, through the barren desert, across rivers and streams, and… well, you get the picture.
The route is called the OBDR: Oregon Backcountry Discovery Route. (http://www.treknow.com/obcdr/). It is unclear when it was first done, or by who, or why. But it was, and it is, and it’s now a virtual rite-of-passage for any serious adventure rider in the northwest. Indeed, riders come from all over the world to test their endurance, equipment, and most of all, their route finding skills on the OBDR.
Starting just south of Lakeview, Oregon, the route winds it’s way gradually north for 900 grueling miles. Occasionally there are a few miles of paved roads, but it engages 95% dirt. All kinds of dirt. And sand and rocks. Over high mountain passes and across hip-deep rivers and creeks. Fun!
Our start was auspicious: we arrived at our starting point just after several days of torrential (and highly unusual) rain. In fact, because of the mud, we couldn’t even make it to our first campground that night—and we hadn’t even begun the ride. The next day we took our time getting started, hoping things would dry out a bit as we poured over our maps and gear. Finally around 10am we headed out.
We rode hard all day. And ended up, around 4pm, right back where we started. That, as it would turn out, was the story of our trip. We were lost for virtually the entire time. Occasionally we would find ourselves where we had set out to go, but usually by accident, and not before at least fifty stops at unmarked trail and road junctions, trying to figure out where the hell we were.
The riding was fun and challenging, but the route finding heinous. One day it took us nine hours to travel forty-five miles. Actually, we rode over a hundred miles, but mostly in the wrong direction, or simply up (and back down) dead-end roads trying to find our way. Think of it this way: you’re in New York City and you want to drive to Chicago. There are virtually no street signs or road numbers. Most of the time you’re unable to see where you’re headed, but it doesn’t really matter because 75% of the roads you go down simply end. That’s the OBDR. Woohoo!!!
We took seven days to cover 2/3 of the route, encountering perhaps three other groups of riders along the way. Some people ride north to south; we rode south to north. The three roughest days (some very challenging terrain) are the one heading north from California; it gets a bit easier the further north you get, but the navigation is still a chore.
Yes, we had lost of maps and route descriptions and a GPS. Didn’t matter. There were roads on the maps that weren’t there; there were roads on the ground that weren’t on the map. There were totally unmarked six way intersections. There were steep, rocky single-tracks, washed out roads and boulder fields, deep-sand desert sections, mud bogs, dust-choked logging roads with piles of loose gravel, and yes, occasional sections of beautiful traveling.
Mostly, we camped, aside from a couple nights in small hotels in a couple of the tiny towns not far from the trail along the way. The camping was beautiful and the Oregon State Parks were remote, spotless, and virtually empty. What a treat!
As we packed up for our sixth day, it began to rain. Hard. We delayed and procrastinated until noon, and finally decided to throw everything in the truck and head further north out of the rain and into the desert where we hoped it would be dryer since the section of the trail we were planning on riding that day was deep in the forest which would have been a dangerous mud-fest.
I rode an old Suzuki DR350, Kelly rode a brand new Beta 450 and Wayne had a Yamaha WR250. All were street-legal dirt bikes with very aggressive knobby tires. A friend of mine had done the route last year on her BMW F650GS—and indeed we passed one group on huge, fully loaded touring bikes (BMW F800GS and KTM 950 Adventure). While I guess it’s possible to do it this way, it is much more enjoyable on a lighter dual-sport bike, that’s for sure. I’ve ridden similar terrain in Patagonia, Alaska and the western US on my BMW and it’s a chore!
Of course we secured everything to our bikes with Mini-Shockles, ShockStraps and SofTies and nothing came loose. That was in sharp contrast to the stories I heard from other riders who lost all sorts of gear as their bikes bucked and jumped around, especially in the rocky sections. One rider we talked to had his tent tied on with heavy duty bungie cords, only to discover that it had wiggled it’s way loose somewhere in the past twenty miles. Oops.
I’m working on putting together an off-road route from the Washington/Oregon border all the way north to Canada. All on dirt. I’ll keep you posted. Indeed, the journey is the destination.
We left Portland last Thursday and headed west down the Columbia on a warm, sunny, glorious morning for the 90 mile cruise, pulling into Astoria 8 hours later where we dropped off one crew member and picked up another. The journey went from glassy cruising at 10 knots to rollicking climbs up 7′ wind swell due to 20 knots of head wind in a couple places, but quickly settled back down. Just to keep things interesting, we brought along a shotgun and went skeet shooting off the back deck while cruising along. Pull….Blam!!!! Nothing like beer, guns and boats, you know.
The tidal gods were smiling upon us so Friday, at the civilized hour of 9am, we headed out through the Columbia River Bar and into the Pacific. The conditions were ideal for the crossing-which doesn’t mean easy, just that there weren’t 25′ breaking waves to crush us. The strong currents, big ocean swells that welled up out of nowhere, and giant freighter traffic kept us busy. By 11am had cleared ‘The Graveyard of the Pacific’ and rounded Cape Disappointment heading north.
The sea was ‘flat’ – meaning just 4-6′ swells, coming from the north. We motored along at 9 knots, gradually heading NNW so as to keep our course 8-10 miles off shore to avoid the various capes, points, headlands, islands and hidden rocks in our path. At times the breeze would kick up, turning the ocean from placid to tumultuous in just a few minutes. Then just as quickly it would subside. We ate and drank and napped and told old ocean tales all day.
At 9pm we chose the night watches, with each of us taking a 2 hour turn at the wheel. It finally got dark around 11pm, and with that a thick fog also settled in, meaning navigation by compass and radar, with the occasional glance at the GPS to make sure we were far enough off shore to stay out of trouble, yet close enough that we could tuck into one of the very sporadic harbors along the way if the weather got really bad.
Driving a boat in the fog on the ocean at night in big, irregular ocean swells is not an easy task. It demands pretty much sustained concentration since the boat is pitching wildly as it climbs up one big (unseen) swell, rolls down the back side, then gets slammed from the side by an (unseen) rogue wave. Direction of travel can swing 90º in a matter of seconds as the compass spins wildly. Imagine driving a big truck on an icy road. While blindfolded. Fun!!!
Around 5am we were approaching Cape Flattery and the entrance to the Straights of Juan de Fuca, carefully steering clear of Tatoosh Island and Duntze Rock in the early morning darkness and fog. As expected, the seas were building from the northwest, meaning huge, rolling swells were pouring into the straights and reflecting off the cape. The F/V Shockles was behaving delightfully, surfing down the massive waves (at one point we hit 14.5 knots), then lifting slowly over the top and down the back side as the swell passed us by just before the next one picked us up again.
Twenty miles along and the fog was still thick, but the seas got flatter as we headed southeast down the straights, staying a few miles off the northern shore of Washington so as to avoid the center of the channel where the big freighters ripped along at 20 knots. We kept a careful eye on the radar, spotting several enormous vessels on the screen, just a couple miles away, that were totally invisible in the fog.
We finally crossed over the main shipping channel (which also happens to be the border between the US and Canada) about mid way down the straights, just as a gigantic freighter came hurtling out of the fog right towards us. At first we thought we just be looking at a side view because it was so big; but then we realized that it was coming right at us when it sounded a low, groaning fog horn that echoed along the sea surface like a giant drum head. Nine hundred feet of steel coming at you out of the fog at 25 knots is indeed an impressive sight.
Five miles before Victoria, the fog lifted and the sun came out. The temperature sprang up from 55º to 75º in a matter of minutes and life was indeed good! Around 3pm we headed into the channel and into Victoria, exactly 30 hours from our start (just as I had planned!). We cleared customs (simply pull up to the customs dock, pick up the big yellow phone fastened to a pole, and tell them you’re here to party. Woohoo!!), and settled into a slip right in front of the spectacular Empress Hotel, with downtown Victoria a block away.
After a quick boat cleaning we headed into town, sampling a half dozen little pubs, street-side cafes and bakeries, eating and drinking. We finished the evening at an Irish pub with a Beatles cover band that actually (probably due to our various states of inebriation) sounded pretty good. We were back on board in in our bunks by 1am.
After a leisurely morning drinking coffee, visiting the Maritime Museum, and taking a long walk through the city and out along the coast, we headed to the San Juan Islands, anchoring for the night off the east side of James Island. We took one of the kayaks to shore and went ’splorin’ for a couple hours before returning to the boat for cocktails and a big pile of grub on the barbie. It was a warm, clear, tropical evening with an almost full moon – perfect.
We awoke to a cold mist, drank a pot or black coffee, yanked the anchor and headed to Anacortes. Fighting some wild currents and an outgoing tide, our speed ranged between 2 and 11 knots as we headed to the mainland. What a crazy place. We pulled into the marina (where I have a covered slip) by 1pm, closed up the boat and hopped the train from Mount Vernon back to Portland ($35 – what a deal!) where my friend Fred picked us up at the train station and brought us back to our cars.
All in all, a fine time was had by all. Now that the F/V Shockles is up in Anacortes, there’s lots more fun to be had!
I would like to use a shockle from my bow eye (i.e., the one that the trailer web hooks up to) rather than my bow cleats for achoring, so as to avoid chafe on my rub rail. It is a 23′ Precision, which is a shoal draft monohull sloop. I think a 24 inch is better so that I can leave it hooked on the bow eye all the time and just clip it on to my 1/4″ proof chain rhode. F2 or F3? And the caribiners will fit through the 1/4 inch proof chain per your website, correct? And note that this is for setting a lunch hook, not for overnight or mooring purposes. Please advise. Thanks very much.
I would suggest a 24″ F3 for your use. While an F2 would certainly work fine as well, the added resistance of the F3 will ensure that you don’t get a real wallop on your chain when the 2′ wave from the wake of that 30′ powerboat hits you. Our carabiner will indeed fit 1/4″ proof chain
British rower Roz Savage continues her bid to be the first woman to row across the Pacific Ocean. She completed the first stage of her journey last fall, rowing her 24’ ocean rowing boat from San Francisco to Hawaii. On May 24 she set out from Hawaii for the second leg of her quest—the 2,500 mile crossing from Waikiki to Tuvalu. She hopes to complete this leg in 100 days. Then comes the final leg—from Tuvalu to Australia.
As with the first part of her historic row, Roz is using several Shockles products including MiniShockles, ShockStraps, SofTies, and ToolTether. “Shockles are an integral part of my safety system for securing virtually everything on my boat, from my spare oars to my emergency equipment and even my sun shade. There’s nothing else like them, and I need a tie-down system I can really trust in the middle of the ocean.”
Despite major storms and massive waves, all her Shockles survived the first 100 days at sea on the crossing from San Francisco to Hawaii. “I was amazed that they kept everything secure despite getting rolled three times. Lots of things broke during my crossing, but not my Shockles!” You can see Roz’s boat, the Brocade, in this video of her departure.
I moor my 34 foot Searay on the Columbia in Portland and have a few questions regarding which Shockles to use on my dock lines. I’ve used the rubber snubbers, but I like the concept and design of your Shockles. I think you have a great product line, although your products are difficult to find locally. West Marine stocks a few, but I had no idea about your other products.
What rating would you recommend for dock lines? F2 or F3? I use 5/8″ lines fore and aft as well as spring lines. I watched your videos and perused your site. Nice website by the way. Glad to see a local Oregon company with an innovative idea!
I look forward to your suggestions and will order directly on your site.
Hi Steve -
Thanks for the comments. We’ve been trying to get some of our other Shockles products into West Marine for a couple years but have only had luck with the big Shockles. And while they’re selling very well, each store only stocks a few so they run out frequently. If you’re in a West Marine store it would be great if you could mention Shockles and our other products as well. Thanks!
Depending on the amount of chop and wind at your moorage, either F2 or F3 would work for your boat. If you’re in a covered slip with no wake traffic, the 18″ F2 would be fine. For anything else (or for general dock lines where ever you might be) I’d recommend 24″ F3.
We have our boat – yes, the SHOCKLES – moored at Columbia Crossings at Janzen Beach. Perhaps we’ll see you on the water sometime this summer (if it ever arrives). If so, be sure to give us a call!
British rower Roz Savage continues her bid to be the first woman to row across the Pacific Ocean. She completed the first stage of her journey last fall, rowing her 24’ ocean rowing boat from San Francisco to Hawaii. On May 24 she set out from Hawaii for the second leg of her quest—the 2,500 mile crossing from Waikiki to Tuvalu. She hopes to complete this leg in 100 days. Then comes the final leg—from Tuvalu to Australia.
With 5/8″ lines, you might want to consider using our