Features
When Boats Go Boom
This sea story comes in two parts. The first portion, written by John Glynn, was published in Scuttlebutt #6549 on August 18, 2026; the second was Butch Ulmer’s letter to the editor commenting on John’s article.
Rocks We Will Remember by John Glynn, McMichael Yacht Yards & Brokers
They are out there lurking just below the surface and sometimes peeking ever so slightly above the waterline. They are like magnets to fiberglass, keels, and prop shafts. They appear on the charts with cute names like “Hens & Chickens” or “The Cows” or “The Dumplings.” Some are marked better than others. And despite these markers (and digital chart warnings) mariners somehow manage to find these underwater growlers.
Neither racing sailor nor global cruiser is immune from the gravitational pull of these underwater sirens. Most every harbor has at least one notable and memorable rock. And if that rock could speak, the stories it would tell. In my home harbor (Greenwich Harbor, CT), “Red Rock” claims no fewer than 20 strikes a summer. And a few of these strikes require a full tide turn to float off — embarrassing because the whole harbor can see your predicament.
Not one to leave a good story left unfinished, Butch Ulmer wrote the following to Scuttlebutt’s Craig Leweck:
Dear Craig,
I enjoyed “Rocks We Will Remember” by John Glynn. McMichael Yacht Yards & Brokers where John works is located in Mamaroneck (NY) Harbor.
At the eastern entrance to Mamaroneck Harbor is a well-known rock named “Ship Rock.” The rock is well marked (red over green buoy), but as is the case with many such rocks, a reasonable percentage of Mariners somehow manage to pass them on the wrong hand with the usual consequences. Such is the case with Ship rock.
One of the sea stories about Ship Rock and Mamaroneck Harbor goes like this. On days of the month when the tide was predicted to be particularly low, my late best friend, Howie McMichael, owner of McMichael Yacht Yards & Brokers, could be seen at dawn on the exposed part of the rock conducting religious services of Thanksgiving for all the business it sent his way. While I never witnessed this ceremony firsthand, I have every reason to believe the story is true. Ship rock has been a great benefactor of McMichael and Howie's yards always had plenty of repair work.
Sincerely,
Butch Ulmer
Ship Rock sits at the eastern entrance to Mamaroneck Harbor, a short hop from the loft door at UK Sailmakers Northeast, so this one hits close to home for Butch and the loft. But you do not need to know Mamaroneck to know the feeling. From Greenwich to Cork to Kiel to Hong Kong, every harbour has one. A rock that everyone knows about, that everyone swears they would never hit, and that somehow keeps collecting keels all summer.
So tell us about yours. Send your grounding story, and a photo if you have one, to info@uksailmakers.com and we will run the best of them in a future issue. Names withheld on request, though we suspect most of you have already told this story at the yacht club.