Category Archives: Sailing

Nike Therapy

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When we were planning this shindig cruise/sail/travel thing, we read all the common wisdom from others who had gone before us. ‘Set a date’, some said. ‘Your boat doesn’t have to be perfect! Don’t fall into that trap!”, said others.  We’ve met a lot of people who have this dream and it never comes to fruition because let’s face it: staying is a lot easier than going. Lots of people make all these plans and never leave the dock.

You get this view at the north end of Colvos Passage

Well, I’ll tell you. We didn’t have much trouble leaving the dock. I mean, we had to. We couldn’t afford to stay and keep paying the price of moorage. So ‘leaving the dock’ was just a necessity unless we wanted to go back to work. Leaving the southern part of Puget Sound, however, has been harder than we reckoned for. In the end, we had to practice what I’ve come to term ‘Nike Therapy’. I started using that term with my counseling and coaching clients when we’d come to a place where excuses would no longer work and there was failure to move forward. You know the marketing hype Nike has: “Just do it.” That’s all. You just get off your ass and do it. Yeah, it’s not always easy but sometimes it’s the only solution. And that’s how we came to finally attain ‘escape velocity’ and get the hell out of Gig Harbor. I’m not saying the time was perfect, and our boat certainly isn’t perfect, but the time was here. It was time to ‘just do it’ and get moving.

At the end of our first day we  anchored right next to SV Cambria at Port Ludow. We had a pretty terrific day with speeds of 8.5 knots toodling up Colvos Passage. Then a stop at Shilshole Marina in Seattle where we topped off the diesel and water tanks, had an excellent visit with friends Lee Youngblood and Kathleen Scott Davis, then executed an absolutely flawless ‘get off the dock in high winds that are pushing you into the dock’ maneuver. Dang I was glad that turned out so well! Everyone knows how I feel about maneuvering this boat in marinas.

Point No Point

Still high from our visit to Shilshole we had a ripping good sail almost all the way to Port Ludlow. Great wind, tacking tracks to be proud of on the GPS, and we both began to get our ‘sailing’ legs back. It’s been awhile but the body remembers.  Oh, yes. It sure does. It remembers things like how hard it is to climb up that companionway ladder at a 15 degree heel; how things slide off the workbench and onto the floor, how cooking at an angle is a bit of a challenge, that there’s a reason why all our drawers and cabinets have latches, and the fact that our cockpit is set up for motoring and dockside living. Not sailing. Decidedly not sailing. However, the words ‘ripping sail’ here also refers to what happened to our genoa as we approached Foul Weather Bluff.

You know what I hate? I hate when I say things out loud like, “Geez, Mike, I sure wish there had been time to tend to that tiny issue with fabric on the genoa before we left.” Because when the universe hears those words, suddenly time for that very thing is manifested! So this morning we will take the headsail down and examine the sacrificial cloth on the leach; the cloth that has now been sacrificed to the spreaders. We’re not sure about the damage yet. It’s too bad I couldn’t take a photo, but I was too busy minding the steering and helping Mike get the sail under control as he pulled it in. Oh sailing. Sheer bliss that, in a moment, turns into sheer terror. It’s why we love it.

We took this in stride, grateful it happened now, in a place where we can get it fixed or get another sail or whatever needs to happen. It’s very nice not to be stressed about it, and to know that this isn’t a vacation that was just ruined. Being stuck in Port Townsend for a few days will not come amiss. We were in good spirits as I went on deck to secure the halyards that were rattling.

The other mountains. The Olympics.

So I’m up on deck minding my own halyard-securing business when suddenly a Coast Guard boat comes absolutely screaming around Foul Weather Bluff, lights flashing, siren blaring, rooster tail flying. I thought there must be some terrible emergency somewhere until I realized they were bearing down upon Galapagos at an alarming speed. Screeching to a halt close by in the power-boat rendition of a skid,   they yell into their megaphone, “SAILBOAT! STOP! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”. I almost wet myself. So many scenarios go through your mind at a time like that; a time when a machine gun is literally pointed at your boat for no good reason at all. I’m literally turning in circles on the deck looking at the surrounding area for something I’ve missed that could be causing these people to act like heathens.

I yell back (because they didn’t even have the grace to hail us on the radio) “Port Ludlow!”, but that was lost in the wind and they screamed at us again, “WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”. At this point I’m wondering if someone needed to go back to kindergarten to learn some manners and my hands are just that close to begin on my hips. I’m also ready to admit that it’s possible I do have a tiny library fine outstanding, and yes, I’m guilty of driving our boat on the wrong side of that last red channel marker (are they giving tickets now for that, too?)  and one time I may have scooted under a traffic light just as it was turning red. Maybe Mike stocked an illegal amount of beer on the boat?  I promise I’ll never do (fill in the blank here) again if they’ll just let me go this time.

I scream back at them, louder and with more emphasis, if not attitude, “PORT LUDLOW!!”. They lower the gun. I have given the correct answer and will not die today. Now they instruct us a little more calmly that we’ll need to slow down so that this big assed submarine and its bully boat escorts can pass in front of us. Yeah, apparently our big sailboat was going too fast. (Laughing my ass off!) Hey, no problem! We’re happy to do that. I’m giving them the ‘thumbs up’ signal all the way back to the cockpit. Hell, we’ll even drop anchor right here right now in the shadow of Foul Weather Bluff if you’ll just go away and leave us in peace.

There they are.

I have a great deal of respect for the Coast Guard and understand they have an important and sometimes dangerous job. On the whole this was a humorous encounter. But really? Is this necessary? Is there some reason for terrorizing pleasure boaters going at a cool 5 knots? Hail me on the radio next time, Coast Guard. Or at least don’t treat us like criminals. Okay? Sure ‘preciate it. Also,  I’d like to send you a bill for my laundry.

We’re in Port Ludlow for today and part of tomorrow. Then on to Port Townsend the day after that. We’ve got no plans. Just taking things as they come.

Sailing Vessel Galapagos, out.

When the mountain is veiled in pink.

Weekend Harbor Hopping

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This past weekend found Melissa in Kirkland helping her mother as she recovers from knee surgery. Of course that meant that I, a man unencumbered by wifely restraints, would be free to sit around the house in my underpants, drinking beer. It is a long, honorable tradition that I have solemnly sworn to uphold.

But then I thought, “Hey! I could take Galapagos out for the weekend and sit around in my underpants in new, exotic locations!”

And so it was that on Friday I hurried down to the marina after work, slipped the lines and had a lovely sail to Quartermaster Harbor, located between Vashon and Maury Islands.

quartermaster

Quartermaster Harbor is a nicely protected anchorage with a surrounded by homes on Vashon and Maury Island. There is a large, flat area of in the center with fifteen foot anchoring depths. A perfect location for quiet night.

I enjoy taking the boat out by myself for daysails but I have never spent the weekend at anchor alone on Galapagos.  I was excited to try out our freshly galvanized chain and reinstalled windlass. Setting the anchor by myself really forces you to think through all the steps that Melissa and I would usually do together. Fortunately I had the anchorage pretty much to myself and the wind was light.

After a quiet evening and a leisurely breakfast, I raised anchor and motored over to Gig Harbor.  We used to take Moonrise, our Cal 34 over to Gig Harbor fairly often but I had never taken our much bigger Galapagos through the narrow entrance.  Of course I knew that much larger boats go to Gig Harbor every day but I do admit to being a little nervous.  It can be a busy harbor and it was a beautiful day so I expected lots of traffic.

As usual, my anxiety was for naught.  Once inside the harbor I  found a spot amongst the mooring balls and more or less permanently anchored boats and dropped the hook.

Not too often you see a gondolier rowing through your mooring field.

Not too often you see a gondolier rowing through your mooring field.

I rowed over to the Tides tavern for lunch and walked up to West Marine to visit with an old slip mate. In short, I enjoyed a day doing pretty much nothing at all.

Two Border Collies on a paddle board. Just a normal day in the Pacific Northwest.

Two Border Collies on a paddle board. Just a normal day in the Pacific Northwest.

Sunday morning I raised anchor and headed back to Tacoma.  One little chore that I wanted to take care of was to top off our fuel tanks before the cool weather sets in.  Empty fuel tanks allow excess moisture to collect in the diesel which promotes microbial growth and can clog fuel filters.  Also, diesel is really cheap right now so once at the fuel dock at Foss Harbor Marina I put in 110 gallons. That should keep Galapagos ready for a fast getaway.

Even though Fall is well and truly upon us, I think Melissa and I will be enjoying a few more weekend getaways to nearby harbors.  We love our marina but it can be so noisy. A half dozen railroad tracks run nearby and we are very near the very industrial Tacoma tideflats.  Why hang out there when we can be rocking at anchor in a quiet harbor?

Alpha Happiness

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Sometimes when you’re a sailor you want to get out there and sail fast and hard and just have a good hoot and holler. You want the sailing version of a rock concert. Unfortunately, Galapagos, as great as she is, is more the sailing equivalent of a night at the opera. She is lovely and cultured and refined, not fast and furious. That’s when it comes in really handy to have sailing friends with smaller boats. And that’s especially true when they are young and just getting feet wet in the world of sailing and want to turn all the handling over to you so they can watch what you do. Are you kidding me? Woo hoo! Let’s go!20160917_161231

Thus it came to pass that we were taking a tour of our new friend James’ boat and he mentioned that he’d like for us to go out with him on his new-to-him Pearson 35 “Morgon Stjarna” (Swedish for Morning Star). He is new to sailing and looking for experience. We have a bit of that. All of us had filled calendars in the near future, so we decided to just drop everything and go. Don’t you love that? I really do. I love this ‘spur of the moment’ ‘let’s just do it’ kind of thinking. I mean, we can work on our boat anytime. And we do.  I vote for going sailing on a Pearson 35, especially as there was good wind today.

Sailing on this smaller boat reminds us of what we love about sailing. We like the feeling of the wind and the water, the heeling of the boat, the wheel work, the tweaking of sails. We love it all. And we love how easy it is to take that boat out and get her back into the slip.  Galapagos would have loved being in that wind today, but it was just so much easier to take Morgon Stjarna out, and the experience is completely different than sailing our queenly vessel, so high up off the water, so protected from the weather in our fine cockpit. We love out boat and we are glad to have her. She is perfect for what we want to do.  But we also love James’ boat for completely different reasons. Hey! Maybe we just love boats!fullsizerender

This would be James’ first real sailing experience on his boat and we felt happy to be the people on board with him and his roommate Kelvin, also new to sailing.   Checking the weather, it looked like wind of 11 knots with gusts up to 19. That’s good sailing weather for us but maybe more than the guys bargained for considering their inexperience. On the inside of the bay, the wind was great and we tooled along under full main and jib doing about 6 knots. Loads of fun and the boat was handling well. James and Kelvin were in their element.

p1100483

Kelvin and James, safe and sound and still on board the boat.

As we got out toward the channel, we started getting whitecaps and steadier, heavier wind coming from the south west. I’m thinking that 11 knot forecast was, well, wrong. What a shock! Soon we were heeling magnificently, and while that can be fun, it’s not a very efficient way to sail and looking at the fellas, I saw white around all of their many eyes.  It was apparent that we were overpowered. We immediately reefed the jib but even so, there was a little too much heeling action and weather helm for it to be right. It was a brilliant opportunity to teach James about how his boat will head into the wind if you let her, and how if you release the main and spill wind she is going to pop up. Although it was a probably a little too soon in their sailing careers for those lessons, I’ll bet neither Kelvin nor James ever forget them!

We soon decided to just pull the jib in completely, and Mike and James went forward to reef the main as well. “Keep your center of gravity low, and keep one hand on the boat at all times.” It’s the mom in me. I couldn’t help this little reminder. This was James’ first experience really sailing his boat and it was a little bit of trial by fire. He already knows now what it feels like to be on the foredeck in fairly heavy wind. That’s a pretty exciting place to be, and not always in a fun sort of way. He did well, albeit with eyes wide open now to the force of mother nature in action.

You know, we forget how it feels to be brand new at this sailing thing. After years of sailing this bay, we take things like a quick heeling to 30 degrees for granted and don’t even break a sweat. We know the boat will come back up and what to do if she stays over too long. I was so glad for James and Kelvin they could see Mike and I loved every minute and were not in the least out of our comfort zones.

During a more sedate part of the sail. We were too busy sailing to take photos during the squirrels part of the adventure.

During a more sedate part of the sail. We were too busy sailing to take photos during the squirrely part of the adventure.

I remember years ago being taught how to sail our Catalina 27 and how I watched the previous owner who was on board with us. He was just calm and secure in his ability and in the boat’s ability. We had very brisk conditions and I could have been scared if he had shown any worry at all. But he didn’t, so I didn’t. I hope we were able to pass that on to James and Kelvin, in spite of all the joking about wetting one’s pants! The boat was not actually challenged in any way. We know from our experience that our boat can take more than we can. And that’s true of James’ boat as well.

With reduced sail we made good time across the bay, trying to out run a rain system coming up behind us. It was no good, though. It caught us just as we were getting ready to start the engine and take down the sail. By the time we were motoring into the fairway, I was hunkered down underneath the dodger, staying as dry as possible, memories of Moonrise, our old Cal 34, floating through my mind. In the bay, Alpha Happiness stood witness to the wide eyed wonder of new sailors and to the happiness of these kind of older ones. Apropos. Completely. p1100498

James brought Morgon Stjarna  into the slip, his first time docking bow-in, nailing it perfectly the first time. He’s going to love sailing this boat as he gradually gets used to her, learns her ways, and is guided by the many more experienced sailors waiting with open hearts to give him a hand. Sail on, Sailor!

Us. Having fun. Not working on our boat.

Us. Having fun. Not working on our boat.