Ok, ok, ok. This write-up may interest you as much as an article on tying ones’ shoes. At-least, that’s how this topic feels to me. But, I reluctantly have to admit, there is something more to it; there’s a nagging frustration with this topic I encounter often. And, when it comes to it, the issue is important. It’s foundational to boating safety, and it’s often framed in the worst possible of ways – it’s framed aesthetically or egotistically.
From what I can tell, recreational boaters who oppose me on this derive their knowledge, even their life-long knowledge, from two sources: 1) Charles F. Chapman, or 2) their great uncle who was part of Slocum’s crew. Without going into specifics about these sources, mostly to avoid any emotion plight I could send my reader into, I’m instead going to approach this by going around these sources. These sources are only authorities. And in matters that pertain to safety, it’s probably best to avoid appeals to authority and instead go straight to appeals to reason.
Here I’ll lay out the reasons one should not hitch a cleat, though I will not get into proper ways to use a cleat or line handling in general. I have a goto method for making a line fast to a cleat, though that will also wait for another time. It suffices to say, a cleat should generally be used without knots or hitches. It should also be used in a manner in which the line can not run freely while the boat is secured to the dock, and it should be used in a way in which the line can not slip off either horn.
Before going further let me add in some definitions and focal points of this article. This article is about using mooring lines on dock cleats. To be more specific, it is about small tonnage vessels mooring to docks, not piers. The cleats I’m referring to are standard double-horned open-based cleats bolted to the dock’s edge parallel to moored vessel.
Now let me toss in a disclaimer or two. Every situation, every dock space, every line, every boat, and every mariner is different – so to think that there is only one proper way to make a cleat is obviously ridiculous. If you are responsible for the boat in question, it is ultimately your decision on how to properly moor your vessel. That does not mean that you can put your deckhands or dockhands in unnecessary risks (I include the adjective because mooring a vessel comes with inherent dangers). Also, this article does not go into detail about other aspects of using lines and cleats – it attempts to stay focused on the difference between using a hitch and not using a hitch. If I did to go further, I’d define “working part” of a line, and then state that one removes this essential part of the line the second a hitch or knot interrupts the unobstructed ability to work with the line.
Let’s jump into it:
Here are the top three reason why one should not hitch a cleat:
- You should rarely have your hand near a cleat. Hitching normally requires a hand to touch the cleat or touch the lines which are made fast to the cleat. This situation becomes quite serious during vessel surging, when the lines are highly dynamic and strained, and when urgency is replaced with blind haste. In addition, a seaman generally should not be near a strained line longer than is necessary. During mooring evolutions, a prudent mariner assumes that every mooring line may go taught at any moment. Keep your fingers away from deck/dock hardwater.
- Seaman should avoid bending over, unless it is for quick or abnormal tasks. A locked/hitched cleat requires a seaman to take his eyes off of the larger situation, enter a state of tunnel vision, and bend for prolonged amounts of time. Also, a cleat made fast and then hitched will seize with time – this unintended line lock requires efforts, risks and time. Situational awareness is reduced when a hand is focused on a taught hitch.
- A vessel which can be made fast to the dock, and freed from the dock, without crew having to cross the railings of the boat, is a safer vessel. Each time crew cross from the dock to the boat, risks increase. A hitched cleat always requires a person on the dock, and that person normally has to transfer to and from the vessel. Keep crew on the boat unless it’s essential to send them over the side.
Generally speaking, a working turn plus three figure eights will secure a line to a cleat. This method allows for a seaman to take the working end of the line after any amount of time (days to years) and slacken the line with simple whipping motions. The working end of the line may be left at waist height on the vessel’s rail, which allows the seaman to clear the line without stepping from dock to boat, and it also prevents tunnel vision and bending. Securing a cleat this way prevents locking, damaging the line, the need of abrasive tools, and, most importantly, the seaman never has to put their hand or body near the cleat. When the vessel surges, the line in question will hold fast, and with proper line handling technique the line can be secured as is, or whipped off of the cleat quickly.
Before ending my article I want to return to the popular sources of improper cleat usage. I am aware that many recognized boating institutions teach the hitching method on cleats. But none-of-these institutions can argue against my points of practicality and safety. I believe the oldest recognized boating instruction that encouraged hitching the cleat was Chapman’s “Piloting and Seamanship,” and from there, yachtsman spread their misknowledge to the recreational boating world in general, and then to the commercial sponsors of that world. If you dig into Chapman, along with his other organization, United States Power Squadrons, you’ll find it’s usage stops within recreational marinas. In the United States Coast Guard’s Library, the “Deck Reference Library,” which is the amalgamation of all information used to create our Licensed Mariner’s Exams, there are over 400 possible titles, many of which are used dozens of times. Chapman’s publications were NOT referenced in anyway in the Coast Guard’s testing on Seamanship, Deck Ops, Anchoring, Sailing, Piloting, and other working maritime sections. The library wants nothing to do with Chapman or his pretty methods of making fast cleats. In fact, Chapman only made the CG’s list on three occasions, all for various navigation topics. Chapman’s chapter on “Customs and Courtesies of Yacht Clubs,” should be a warning flag for those of you shopping for sources on boat operations… For those of you whose Uncle Bob sailed on the Spray, have fun sailing alone.
While I’ve dismissed appeals to authority, perhaps my readers would still like to know who I am to write such an article. I’ve been in the maritime for over 20 years and I know two people who’ve lost fingers on boats. I’ve witnessed a steel cleat rip off a steel barge and impale itself in a friend’s stomach. I’ve watched a superior suffer head trauma and BTI after being hit in the head by a flying cleat. I watched a captain of a sewage barge desperately hack away at his mooring line with a fire ax on the Alcatraz Pier as his snagged mooring line prevent his vessel from maneuvering in the fast eddies there. I’ve treated concussions, smashes, fractures, and bruises on friends, passengers, and colleagues. The two men who lost fingers were both handling lines. One lost his finger at the Army Corps dock in Sausalito as his captain hit the throttle as he was passing a line cutter to the dockhand. The other failed to latch a hatch open while he went below, and the vessel was hit by a wake, sending the steel door down on its knife-edges and my friend’s hand below.
Hitching cleats it is not needed – your boat won’t move and your lines won’t slip with the proper method. Hitching and removing a hitch from a cleat disrupts situational awareness and demands a hand and body to be near hardware and tensioned lines. We teach working with lines and hardware in practical and safe ways. While hitches look nice and our yachtsmen neighbors swear by them, they are dangerous, and people are getting hurt.
Just this year I was working in a marina where I towed over 400 recreational vessels with my coworkers. A dredge operation required the constant and repetitive movement of vessels, and many tenants were not on scene to make it happen. On a calm and quiet morning, the dredge crew requested our staff pull in a dozen vessels which were extended beyond their slips by a few feet. While untying a hitched cleat, the nearby dredge tug gunned his throttle, creating a turbulence that sucked the vessel I was working on quickly away from me, the line I was untying went taught, tightened, and the only thing that saved my finger was the exhausted bicep of my freed arm. I reacted with less than a second to spare, but my finger was stuck none-the-less. As a life long mariner, this type of experience is all too typical, and it shouldn’t happen. Maybe I’ll stop biting my tongue and start trying to teach people the proper way to tie their shoes, I mean cleats.
