OUR BOATS
Is the OLAS Guardian wireless kill cord a legitimate replacement for the traditional alternative? Jack Haines installs one to his Jeanneau to find out
Jack Haines tries out Olas’s new wireless kill cord system on his Jeanneau Cap Camarat 625 and Phil Sampson gets stuck in the mud on his Fairline Targa 34
Like pretty much every small open sportsboat of its era, our 20-year-old Jeanneau Cap Camarat 625 has a cheap plastic kill cord. It’s effective as long as you remember to attach it to yourself but the problem with traditional kill cords is that it is all too easy to forget to reattach it once you’ve taken it off – especially if you go boating on your own.
We do use the Jeanneau solo a fair amount, especially my father, who will often take his paddleboard and fishing rod and head off for the day to potter around Poole Harbour and the surrounding area. It’s when you’re alone, moving around the boat to attach or remove lines and fenders, that you can absentmindedly not reconnect the plastic cord to your body and this is where the major risk lies.
The OLAS Guardian aims to solve that problem by not physically attaching you to the boat at all. It’s a wireless kill cord system consisting of a battery powered transmitter, worn around the wrist, which receives a regular stream of low energy Bluetooth transmissions from a receiver that is panel-mounted behind the boat’s helm. The transmitter has a range of around 50ft, which allows the wearer to move in and around the boat at will, but as soon as that range is exceeded or the signal is blocked by immersion in water (3-4in so that deep splashes of water don’t initiate a response) the engine stops within two seconds and an audible alarm is sounded. After five seconds the system resets so that the boat can be restarted to assist with recovery or carry on with the passage.
EXPERT INSTALLATION
This system has its roots in MOB technology; passengers would wear these transmitters so the skipper can keep track of them and is alerted if anybody falls overboard. The
Guardian takes the tech one step further using an app to control multiple receivers (up to 15) and whether they kill the engine if someone goes overboard or simply notifies the skipper so that they can take action. It all sounds very clever and relatively good value for £230, but first we had to fit it.
The manufacturer says you can fit this yourself but given my DIY skills don’t extend much further than erecting a shelf and this is potentially lifesaving equipment, we had it installed by the professionals at JS Marine Ltd.
In the box you get the transmitter, one receiver band, the wiring and a switch for the helm that gives basic control of the system so you don’t have to rely on the app if you don’t want to. If you want extra receivers you can buy a single band for £58.95 or a pack of four for £194.95. It is designed to work alongside the existing physical kill cord so you always have that there as a backup or if you want to quickly lash it around your leg for a short trip.
Installation was made a little more tricky on our boat because the kill switch is attached to the throttle body, making access that bit more difficult. Many boats mount the kill switch separately, which makes life easier, but after a bit of head scratching the engineer had the transmitter hooked up, powered off an existing 12/24V power source at the helm and was eyeing up a place to mount it within the helm’s inspection hatch. This was a bit of a tricky job with poor access and quite a thin dashboard moulding to mount the screws to, but before long the transmitter was mounted with the final piece of puzzle being the addition of the
dashboard button which faces the helmsman. This simple piece of switchgear allows the skipper to turn the system on and off and pause it if they want to stray away from the boat, say at the quayside, without cutting the engine and, through a medium of red or green flashing lights, it indicates the status of the system. A single hole is drilled through the dash and in slots the button, the only visible evidence that the system is installed aboard the boat. For more in-depth control there is an OLAS app, which shows the battery status of the tags and their connection information, and has a solo mode, which sends an alert and a GPS position to present contact in the event of an MOB.
Installation took a morning to complete, partly because it was this engineer’s first install and, as mentioned previously, the placement of the kill switch made things trickier. Installation should ordinarily be done in around two hours.
The time had come to see if the system worked as promised. At start up, as soon as the boat’s battery is connected, the Guardian begins scanning for wristbands and sounds an alarm to remind you to connect before you set off, a key feature that the traditional kill cord doesn’t have. Activate the wrist tag and the beeping stops and a green light appears on the dash button so you know that the system is active and paired. Press the button and the system will beep to confirm how many tags are connected. We fired up the engine on the berth to do a quick system test, turning the tag off to break the circuit and ensure the engine does indeed cut out, which it did. Time for a test out at sea and my dad, who had plucked the short straw, to ready himself for a dunk in Studland Bay. The useful part of the system working alongside the kill cord is that he could wear the tag and roam freely to attend to crew duties and I could stay at the helm with the extra safety net of the original cord around my leg.
TIME FOR A DUNKING
The moment had come, with the boat in dead slow ahead Dad took to the bathing platform and launched himself into the water and to our great delight the engine cut out and the boat came to a measured standstill. If Dad has been on his own he could have swum back to the boat and climbed aboard but the system allows the boat to be restarted after five seconds by anyone who remains on the boat whether they have a tag on or not. After the time lapsed I fired up the engine and circled around to retrieve my MOB. Once the tag is back on board you simply hit the dash button to pause the system and press it again to commence scanning and reconnect to the tag.
This quick test showed that the technology works but we will be using it regularly next season so I can report back on what the Guardian is like to live with and whether it is a viable long-term replacement for
the traditional kill cord.
Dad launched himself into the water and to our great delight the engine cut out
How strong is your anchor?
And what kind of forces can it endure? I must admit, I didn’t have a clue, but after an unwelcome recent experience I now have a far better idea of what our boat’s hook can endure.
Albany, our Fairline Targa 34, slipped out of her home berth at 1730 precisely. It was a balmy September evening. Despite the autumnal equinox fast approaching, the glorious weather we enjoyed last summer was hanging on to the last. There wasn’t a breath of wind and everything was set fair for another beautiful Solent evening, watching the sun go down over the mainland from a bay off the Isle of Wight’s northern coast.
We were heading for Totland Bay but eventually opted for Colwell Bay instead.
With the anchor firmly rooted, we set about preparing our evening meal. For us, one of the very few benefits of what is euphemistically described as ‘the new normal’, has been discovering the pleasure of overnighting at anchor. Not only is it free, but the sunsets and sunrises are to die for. No, let me rephrase that; they are magnificent – and I say that because we were eventually taken way too far out of our comfort zone that particular evening to make light of life and death.
As we sat down for dinner in Albany’s cockpit, the sea was mirror calm and the wind nonexistent. By the time we finished, no more than 30 minutes later, a breeze had picked up and was rapidly gathering force. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the wind grew ever stronger, and soon our ensign was stretched taut by a relentless easterly draught.
According to the weather apps, the wind was due to pick up to F4, gusting to F5 overnight. Strong, but not strong enough to cause undue concern, so we decided to stay put.
Albany’s chartplotter is equipped with an anchor drag alarm, something I’ve always considered essential. While that’s fine during the day, it’s not much use overnight as the plotter is mounted on the helm, far out of earshot of our cabin. Accordingly, we carry a Garmin Montana hand-held GPS device, which also features an anchor drag alarm. And with that set, plus a series of back-bearings to nearby landmarks taken, we decided to retire…
By now, the wind was uncomfortably strong, not especially gusty but I’d estimate a sustained F6 at least. Albany wasn’t happy and neither was the sea state. Our cabin, located aft of the anchor locker, was full of unusual and worrying sounds; the graunching of chain and loud, nerve-jangling clangs and clunks combined with much jerking and shaking about.
I was pleased that I had paid some attention to my anchor chain in recent times. On checking it, I had discovered the shackle between chain and boat was all but corroded through. So that had been replaced. But I also knew there was some surface rust on a section of links, which was a real concern for, in the words of Neil Young (one of my musical favourites), Rust Never Sleeps. Was, I wondered, our chain Too Far Gone? (that’s another Neil Young song, by the way).
Like rust, we didn’t sleep that night either, and nor did the wind. Happily, our anchor – which is a delta pattern – held firm, embedding itself ever-deeper into the Colwell Bay clay. It certainly didn’t feel like it but we hadn’t moved an inch; both our alarms and the back bearings confirmed that.
At 0430, we decided to make a run for it at first light. As we winched in the anchor an hour or so later, I couldn’t help but feel relieved it was a case of “anchor’s aweigh” as usual rather than the far more unpalatable prospect of “anchor’s away” in the middle of a stormy night!