Monthly Archives: August 2013

Maritime Fun

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This week I got a wild hair and starting ripping my gardens apart. Yep. It’s that time of year and, tired of feeling completely overwhelmed at the prospect of these gardens, I decided to take advantage of this part of the season and commence to ripping and shredding. The goal: SIMPLIFY!  Once I gave myself permission to simply toss out plants that were no longer serving the space well, things moved along rapidly. I was energized! Man, it does feel good when gardens go from junglefevergonemad to well-groomed in just a few short days. But the body doth protest loudly and I needed a break from all my good work.

See all the space between plants? That didn’t used to be there. Next year this will look awesome.

So it’s a good thing Tacoma’s Maritime Fest was this weekend because it gave us a good reason to get down to the docks, take Moonrise for a little spin, and then eat junk food while gazing at pirate ships. Tacoma always feels a bit like the unwanted stepchild of her bigger, fancier Seattle sister so it’s pretty darned awesome that she is living her own version of the Cinderella story down on the Foss Waterway. There’s a large group of folks who are working to make Tacoma’s maritime history come alive again and bring boat building and appreciation of all things ‘nautical’ back to the collective consciousness in T Town.

The plan was to take Moonrise down to the park at the end of the public dock, anchor there, and row to shore. We could enjoy the festival, then go sailing. But the currents and boat wakes had other plans for us and the holding was terrible. We couldn’t leave Moonrise safely, so the sailing came first. And that gave us the opportunity to sail alongside this:

The Lady Washington

and this:

The Hawaiian Chieftain

There’s nothing quite like sailing a Cal 34 next to a buxom and beautiful Tall Ship to make a girl feel inadequate. Not to mention their cannons. It’s quite a sight to see two ships like this firing at each other across the water, cannons smoking. That’s some good clean fun!

The star of the water, though, is the Sparkman and Stephens sailing yacht SSS Odyssey, sailed by Tacoma’s own Sea Scouts and berthed just across the Foss Waterway from us at the Tacoma Youth Marine Center. We love the beautiful lines of this 90 foot yawl and feel lucky to get to sail on the same home waters. I’ve written a review of this boat and hopefully we’ll see it on Three Sheets NW soon.

By the way, Sea Scouts is a worthy non-profit organization. As the tax year closes, if you have any extra money you could throw their way, they’d appreciate it and you’d get a tax deduction. Donations to support SSS Odyssey’s programs are gratefully accepted through the Tacoma Youth Marine Center. You don’t have to be a rich kid to get to train on a boat like Odyssey. That’s because people donate. Right?

SSS Odyssey. Is it possible for a boat to be any more lovely?

So we had a fine sail with the last of the summer wind, feeling beautiful by association with those bigger, taller, lovelier boats. Then we sailed back to our slip and walked down the water to enjoy the festivities and eat completely unhealthy food.

This year’s festival was organized by our own Sue Schaeffer of Capital City Yachts. Her goals for the year were to bring in more kids and families, offer more classes and educational opportunities, and bring in more exhibits related to the marine trades. Looks like this year’s festival was a success in all three areas. Here are some of the photos from our day at the docks.

A ‘Helicat’.  No, it doesn’t fly. But you can buy one of your very own here. 

No maritime festival is complete without Disneyesque pirates.

One of the vendors sold reclaimed architectural stuff for houses, but I thought this goat would make a good figurehead for the bow of a ship. I wanted that goat bad.

Inside the museum they had an exhibit of recreational boats from past decades. This beauty is from the 1950’s, a fine decade.

And you can read more about this non profit organization here. These folks remind me very much of Tristan Jones, who wanted to show handicapped children that they, too, could do cool things. 

Next year I hope I get to see the ‘quick and dirty’ boat building contest. That does sound like good fun. Here’s one of the boats a team built for the race.

Pretty good for just a few hours, some plywood, and some ‘mystery items’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

People

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During our recent vacation to the Gulf Islands we found ourselves enchanted by more than just the scenery and good wind. British Columbia offers some sterling people watching and our new go-to spot has to be Bergoyne Bay. Located on the west coast of Salt Spring Island, Bergoyne Bay is long and over 300 feet deep, with rocky headlands guarding the entrance. At the head of the bay is a provincial park with waters of anchoring depth. There is great hiking and the shallow waters close to shore are warm enough for swimming with the local seals. What could be better?

The blue dot is at the head of Bergoyne Bay on Salt Spring island.

I’ll tell you what could be better: people living in float homes, that’s what. Apparently British Columbia has not regulated the hell out of everything everywhere yet, at least here, because there are some particularly awesome float homes in Bergoyne Bay that are built from recycled and ‘found’ materials. Since the people who live in them are not hurting anyone else, they are allowed to exist peacefully. Likely some of these folks would be considered homeless if the government decided they were intruding on someone’s idea of a water view and kicked them out. I talked to some of the locals about the float homes and was told that there is a ‘live and let live’ attitude that exists there, although this is clearly a special case. I was glad to see that in at least one part of North America you don’t have to have 10 million dollars to enjoy waterfront living (not counting living on a boat, of course).

Water hippies.

So let me tell you about the waterfront awesomeness that is represented in the above photo. The main structure is ferrocement. On top is a greenhouse where I am swearing to you they are growing squash (and perhaps other kinds of herbs that are more or less ‘colorful’). You can see that aside from the main structure, which is pretty spacious, there is a smaller hut, used for dining al fresco.  I would have loved to tour this place but most people don’t want their homes confused with a tourist attraction, so I didn’t ask. But they are probably used to tourists staring. And photographing. I did try to be discreet as I paddled around their house, eyes wide open.

But let’s be fair when thinking about my voyeuristic ways. Consider this: We’re sitting in our cockpit in the evening having dinner, watching the shore for wildlife. I observe a man walking along the shore. He stops beside a rock and before my very eyes, he drops his pants. All the way. The full monty. Now I am completely interested, and wouldn’t you be, too? If that happened around here, someone would surely call the cops. We are in the U.S. after all. We like our nakedness on the front of magazines, not in a natural setting.

He casually wades into the water and goes for a swim, exits said water and shakes like a dog, and puts his pants back on.  Apparently clothing is optional at Bergoyne Bay. Turns out this guy lives on the ferrocement floating home and he is frequently seen naked in fine weather. And playing his trumpet. That’s right! At the same time. Who wouldn’t be looking? I’m not proud; I used binoculars!

You cannot pay for this kind of ‘dinner and a show’ anywhere. Turns out the guy plays the trumpet whenever the spirit moves him. Not a song, mind you, just quick blasts of 6 or 7 notes. His woman, elfin and crone-like, yet young,  plays the French Horn and they are known to do their own special B.C. rendition of Dueling Banjos, sans tune. Fabulous! I tell you I would love to have a conversation with these folks. Maybe I can wrangle an invite to tea next time.

The sunken sailboat really adds to the ambiance provided by this little trailer home. I rowed around this place many times, just trying to resolve my own cognitive dissonance.

Next door to our artistic and musical couple is this pitiful little trailer. I assumed it was abandoned because of its generally trashed out condition, but I checked with my local source and he said it wasn’t. Still, it’s hard to believe that anyone would need a sailboat that was pretty much under water. Not shown in the photo is a toilet sitting outside the front door. One can only hope he doesn’t actually use it…

And this was just neat, tidy, and even attractive in a rustic, reclaimed sort of way.

On the far side of the bay was this little house. This looks like it was built all at one time, with an actual plan in mind. Inside it is nicely furnished with a full kitchen, a young child’s chalkboard easel standing in the window. That’s right. I peaked inside the window (from the dingy, mind you. I may be curious, but I hope I am not rude.) I would love to spend a summer in this place.

After our naked man experience, we kept our eyes open when sitting in the cockpit.  The following evening we were rewarded once more. There was a very nice party on the beach. Some young people brought lanterns and tables, blankets and large cushions for the ground. It looked like a festive event among friends was in the offing. Soon the small crowd had gathered and the revelries began but rather than the loud drunken sort I half expected, they were quiet and respectful. You hardly really knew they were there so they didn’t really offer many opportunities for gawping.  Until 5 women made their way down the beach to the area just in front of our boat, laughing and talking together and generally being women friends. Then the stripping began. Soon there were 5 aspects of Venus, splashing in the foam. Since they were my age or better, I didn’t bother to distract Mike.

We’ll have to go back to Bergoyne Bay and stay longer when we find ourselves bored with our regular lives. I was just getting the hang of the clothing optional lifestyle when we left.

By the way, if you go there, be aware of your anchor. It’s one of the only places we’ve ever had to reset the anchor because we were moving gently and slowly toward shore. Stick to the deeper water to anchor and you should be fine.

Lovely Bergoyne Bay.

The other great people watching place is Victoria. Guest dockage in Victoria Harbour is directly in front of the Empress Hotel, that icon of genteel living.  It’s worth it to go there just for that experience. This part of Victoria is filled with tourists from all over the world and thus there is much entertainment to be had. And I’m not talking about the street performers.  Here are a few photos from Victoria.

Nice! He plays the pipes, of course.

Wow! Guess this is how people make a living with old boats.

Little tiger girl.

Venerable plaster man.

The iconic Empress.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stoking the Fire

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This week I was talking to one of my friends where I work about our plans for sailing and how we still have a couple of years before we can really see the light at the end of the time tunnel. I was saying that it sometimes feels like I am adrift on a raft with no docklines, waiting for a current to catch me; like Kon Tiki without sharks. Probably I was complaining a little. Very likely. Like me, my friend thinks symbolically and she said that she felt like what I was feeling was a lack of “fire”, and that I needed to do more things to keep the fire under the plan stoked and burning. She asked if it were possible for me to do any new learning associated with this plan. Learning new things would keep the fire burning. I was happy to report that this was not only possible, it was in the works!

Mike and a classmate discuss a thorny navigation problem. To add or to subtract? That is the question…

For my recent birthday, Mike registered us both for a class in Dead Reckoning at the Wooden Boat Center in Seattle. I’ve wanted to learn how to chart a course and determine a compass heading by hand so that we wouldn’t have to rely on electronic navigation. We all know things break on a boat, especially electronics.  I wanted to learn how to use those cool parallel rulers and dividers so I could feel like a ‘real’ sailor.

This weekend was the class and it was great!  Not only did I remember why I never, ever took math in college, but I learned that there is a word called ‘uncorrecting’. I am not making this up. This word is used when you want to determine your location on the chart because you are lost. Maybe it’s because you are lost that you have to use the word ‘uncorrecting’, which implies somehow that you’ve already corrected something and are now undoing it. I don’t know. I also learned that sometimes you correct by adding, and sometimes you correct by subtracting, and this varies with the positions of the planets and how far the fog goes and what kind of mood the gods are in on that day. Sometimes you will add the variations to the east and sometimes you will add the variations to the west.  Good luck determining that little thing.

Wooden dinghies at the Center for Wooden Boats.

Thank goodness I got through 8th grade, because learning how to determine which compass heading you want from a chart in front of you will include challenges such as adding, possibly subtracting (again, this varies at the god’s whim), multiplying, and, if you want to know how long it will take you to get somewhere, also dividing. And you thought you were wasting your time struggling with all those word problems back in the day! It also requires drawing straight lines and reading very tiny numbers. These things will be easier to organize in your mind if you remember that Dead Men Vote Twice, and that True Virgins Make Dull Company. It was a challenging class on so many levels.

In spite of everything, because the teacher was full of knowledge, patience and good humor, I finally got the hang of it and worked out my own way of remembering the completely counter- intuitive use of words like ‘correcting’ and the new ‘uncorrecting’ as they relate to magnetic variations over time, even though anything you do, whether adding or subtracting, is actually correcting the heading. Bah. Of course, all of this is kind of chopped liver if you don’t know how deviant your boat is, because if it’s really deviant you could end up in China. And we all know that would not bode well.

Who says you have to sail to exotic locations to buy produce from a boat?

In the end, I found my way and look forward to practicing in the real world. Seriously, if you are in the Seattle area and want to take an introduction to navigation, this is a good class that is reasonably priced. Teacher Katey Noonan was easy-going and knowledgeable and I felt at ease with her right away. Plus, she provides Starbucks coffee and cinnamon rolls. I made it all the way through the class without eating one, but they sure looked good. Damn that vacation eating all to heck and back.

After all of that intense learning, our brains were tired so we had a little lunch out in the sunshine by Lake Union and then walked the docks down by all the yacht brokers, looking at boats. This is not such a great time to look because the pickings are slim. We did see a Wauquiez 42 that looked pretty good and gave me a serious case of winch envy. We got to go aboard a Taswell, a big Beneteau center cockpit, and a Moody 42, all out of our price range. I could not get too interested in the boats that looked like floating condos. They just don’t feel right to me, somehow. I know they are probably comfortable, but I found myself wondering how anyone would ever access anything behind their plastic panels. Overall, it was hard to get too excited over them and they all pretty much looked the same.

I asked Mike if he saw anything that rung his bell. He said no. He replied that he might flirt or hold hands with a boat just now, but he wasn’t interested in getting serious. I think we’ve both learned our lesson on that one. Until Moonrise goes to a new owner, we are the quintessential ‘lookers’ and unwilling to risk getting attached again. The Beneteau center cockpit had some leopard skin print seats he thought were snazzy. I took a pass on those. However, the tiny bathtub was an easy sell unless I considered how I would get behind all that plastic if the need arose. Mike reminded me coolly that to own a boat such as that one implied the paying of others to worry about such things. Ah. That must be the answer. First… get a million dollars….

I do have a special weakness for a bathtub on a boat, even a small one. It’s one of the things I know I will miss about land life. I love my bath. Hey, if Lynn Pardey can have one, why can’t I?

But a day around boats is better than almost any other kind of day, and this was a day that definitely stoked the fire! And a ‘shout out’ for the Signature Yachts brokerage on Lake Union. Their docks and boats are open allowing potential buyers to look at them at their leisure. I absolutely love this! If we didn’t already have a broker, they would win our hearts just for this fact alone. Broker Tori Parrott is friendly, not at all pushy, and it’s obvious she has a lot of experience with sailboats and sailing. She left us to our own devices with the offer to open any boat we were interested in looking at, no questions asked about our position in terms of buying. Many thanks, Tori!