I must admit that I was a bit inappropriately prideful after the Cambridge Race. The source of that pride wasn't so much that we won our class but that the old boat, with this old sailor and a friend, had gotten though those tough conditions without major damage or drama.
I basked in that glow all week, and then went out for a daysail. On the way our, wirh sails set, I set the autopilot to handle a few chores. It seemed to be working but there was suddenly a grinding / ripping noise and the helm felt stiff. I opened the Lazarette and realized that the autopilot ram had torn out about a foot square chunk of the bulkhead and was hanging in the bilge. I was stunned, but I put the autopilot back on the shelf on the other side of the bulkhead and continued my sail.
Granted the conditions that day were a bit sporty but I was perplexed how that could have happened.
At the end of the sail, it was a real struggle when it came time to furl the jib. Back at the dock, jammed under the spinnaker pole, I found the twisted body of a destroyed furler fairlead block and small plastic chunks of its sheave.
Three weeks of every bit of spare time spent in intense labor doing fiberglass work while crammed into the Lazarette, resulted in the bulkhead repaired, strengthened, and the autopilot reinstalled.