Notes from the 2014 Cruising Diary: On Personal Flotation Devices

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Some days you get to test that little auto-inflate canister in the life preserver to see if it works. Ask me how I know. Okay, I’ll tell you. It happened at Kuper Island. I give it to you straight from my notes from that day.

On the way to Bergoyne Bay

Saturday, Sept 6, 2014 This is not a day for sailing. It is a day for motoring and charging the batteries. Destination Kuper Island;  the lovely sandstone beach we visited last year. We anchor just off that beach in 25 feet of water. I let the dinghy down to go rowing, go ashore and take photos.

Easy rowing on flat water, no turbulence.  I thoughtfully put my camera in a waterproof bag. I remember the water being quite warm here last year.  This year I have a swimsuit. Going for a swim would be fun tomorrow. The universe has other plans for me.

Portland Island

I tie up the dinghy to the swimstep. Stow the oars. Place my camera bag on the swim step and notice that the ladder has not been deployed so is too high. Holding onto the step, I begin to get up to let it fall into the water.

How is this happening? The dinghy is out from under me, I am stepping on the gunwale, and then watching in horror as the gunwale sinks beneath the waves and I am in the sea, still holding onto that swim step. I feel the water seep through my clothes and am amazed that it isn’t too cold; actually quite refreshing on this hot day. I cannot believe it. Maybe I am in shock already.

 I am relieved the life jacket has not deployed because I don’t need it. But just as I think that it pops open. First one side, then the other. My neck now in traction,  I am a cork with a head and two arms flailing around. Swimming in an inflatable life jacket is ridiculous. A big white jelly fish approaches me in a determined manner. I fling my arm out at it, waving it away. It tries to approach from the rear. I spin in the water, kicking ineffectively at the creature, a bobbing stooge ninja. It retreats, waving menacing tentacles, ghostly in the green sea. I see sunlight shining through its body. It is beautiful. 

Mike, examining the sandstone at Portland Island

I grab one flipflop floating by, yelling for Mike. His preternaturally good hearing works so well. Usually. But not when I’m in the water behind Galapagos, down low. I can see the exhaust pipe above my head. I feel happy that the engine is not running.  The dinghy is upside down, floating with all the oars, portable bilge pump, and square flotation device we keep there. No sharks in sight. Do we even have those here? I manage to get the ladder down, but I can’t handle the upturned dinghy. It is dead weight in the water. An island of heavy white gleaming dully in the brilliant sun.

 I yell for Mike. What the hell is he doing in there anyway? I bang on the hull. He appears, a bit nonplussed but calm in the face of a wet wife, treading water underneath a firmly engaged turgid yellow flotation device, fending off determined sea creatures. How did this happen, he asks. Seriously? 

The offending dinghy, ‘Tortoise’.

I remember my hearing aids.  I hand them to Mike to open and lay in the sun. I will clean them with alcohol.  I realize the top of my head is actually dry; most of my hair is dry, I have no water in my eyes. I must have been holding onto the swim step the entire time, never submerging completely. I hope they will be okay.  Damn the things!  I get dead tired of having to be troubled by them. Why can’t my ears just work right, for the love of Jesus?  

The davits, once again, worth their weight in gold. Mike is able to use one of the davit winches to pull the dinghy up. There is a gentle whooshing noise as the seal with the water gives way. I easily recover the items that had been trapped beneath.  What they say about Walker Bay is true. They are unsinkeable. As am I, riding each wave, facing the sky. I can barely move, much less propel myself with any accuracy. Ralphy, without snow.  I am wearing a sundress. Guess where that ends up? Who cares? This is British Columbia. No one knows me here anyhow. The jelly fish has given up. I think about staying in the water longer. 

Kuper Island, later that evening.

  I climb the ladder to the boat and prepare to rinse off with fresh water. I strip off the wet salty clothes and leave them on the deck. I can’t bring myself to remove my underwear while on deck. This isn’t Europe for Christ’s sake.  No salt water below. I think about how when we are in warmer climates we will have to be aware of this kind of thing. Salt water on the upholstery will make it always feel damp.  I hate that. No salt water on clothes below deck. Now it’s a rule.

I clean the hearing aids. They still work. No harm, no foul. I am completely uninjured without so much as a bruise. Except to my ego. But cruising will get you used to that in a hurry. 

Sandstone formation on Kuper Island.

Sandstone formation on Kuper Island.

Toilets That Flush

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That’s right, we’re back to our regular lives. Toilets that flush, hot water on demand, king sized bed, unlimited furniture that’s comfortable, internet access all the day all the time. A big washer, dryer, two refrigerators (and an ice maker!), the list of amenities we enjoy at home grows tiresomely long.

We miss the boat. Coming back to our house is always a difficult transition for us after a couple of weeks on the boat because in spite of all the amenities our land based home offers,  there is also a lawn to be mowed, a floor that needs vacuuming, and groceries to be bought. And even though it’s so much easier to take the car to Costco and stock up on groceries, it’s much more fun and adventurous to anchor in front of downtown Sidney, dinghy in to shore, and hike up the beach and down the street and lug everything back to Galapagos.  I guess we’re just crazy like that.

Galapagos waits in front of the public beach on the Sidney, B.C waterfront.

We had a wonderful, successful trip and I have over 500 photos to sort through. We got our anchoring routine down pat. I learned that the hot water heater works only when we’re tied to the dock. Whoops! We anchored out 100% of the time and remembered what it’s like to negotiate food storage sans refrigeration. Let’s just say that ice is expensive in the islands. I docked the boat in Poet’s Cove, choosing a dead calm day and plenty of room so I would have a good chance of complete success. It worked out great. And we’re getting the whole ‘docking this beast’ routine down in terms of who does what when Mike’s at the wheel and I’m doing the tying off. We’re learning. So far, so good.

On the Strait of Georgia.

Our route took us from Tacoma to Camano Island and then through Deception Pass for the first time ever. A ten hour day by motor got us to the island and anchored out for the evening. We continue to be amazed at how much faster this boat moves than our Cal 34. We had planned to meet up with a friend of Mike’s from work, who has a house on Camano Island. But alas, his cow was calving that day so they were not home. For some reason, that just cracked me up.

But regardless of cows, we had to pay attention to the timing going through Deception Pass.  For the uninitiated, Deception Pass is one of those places where you don’t want to be caught at the wrong time of the current cycle because you could find yourself with an opposing current of over 6 knots if you don’t pay attention. We had been through that area on the Victoria Clipper, but had never sailed (or motored) through it. The mother cow made it possible for us to make it up to the pass in time to go through without trouble. We had 1 knot of current with us and even with that, it was like Mr. Toad’s wild ride as Galapagos struggled to keep a strait course. A sailboat coming the opposite direction, against that same 1 knot of current, was stopped dead in the middle of the pass for awhile and I thought he was going to drift into the rocks, but he made it. I’m pretty sure current doesn’t tell the whole story in this place. It’s pretty ‘exciting’ to be sure.

Approaching Deception Pass. Fishermen fishing the currents appear to block the passage, but they don’t actually get in the way.

Once you get through the pass you are in the islands and that’s pretty sweet. We hit Rosario Strait at the wrong time, however, and would have been bucking current with no wind all the way north so we decided we were done for the day and anchored at little Strawberry Island State Park. There isn’t much going on at that little park but it was a reasonable enough anchorage in calm weather.  We were already tucked in for the evening and it wasn’t even dinner time yet. I thought about dropping the kayak in the water, but it was too much trouble. I decided to sleep instead.

It’s an interesting thing, going on this kind of vacation. It takes awhile for the ‘vacation’ part to sink in, at least for Mike. It hits me immediately in the form of sleeping. The first two days if I wasn’t on watch, I was probably sleeping. Mike, on the other hand, was doing projects. Here’s a little note from my diary after the first two days of this trip:

What I do best on this boat is sleep. I could sleep all day long and into the night and through to the next day. Honestly, sometimes I can barely keep my eyes open and it feels like my brain just needs someone to hit the ‘reset’ button. Mike does projects. Since we left he has installed and hardwired a small inverter, being used as I type this to keep this laptop running and to allow him to use his little soldering iron. Because he has also wired in the battery charger for his drill and now he is working on some other god-knows-what project in the man cave. I like the IDEA of doing projects, but I cannot bring myself to think of one to do. Well, there was that Creeping Crack Cure I put around the outside of the midship hatch as extra insurance against leaks, but that hardly counts since it took all of 5 minutes. But by GOD that hatch doesn’t leak a drop. Then I did cook dinner and clean up. And then put some gluten free cookies in the oven, hoping the shot of glucose from them would somehow jumpstart my brain. I wonder if this is what I will always feel like when we live on the boat. Will I be this completely lacking in motivation, unable to find the energy to even drop the dinghy in the water? Thank God this laptop works without internet.

Mike, working on a boat project during his ‘vacation’.

Let’s just say that it takes awhile for Mike to unwind. And it takes me awhile to find my groove. I feel a little bit ‘between worlds’ the first few days, a bit discombobulated. I can’t go on my morning walks with the dog. I have no interweb. It’s a wierd, liminal space.

The following day was one for sailing! We rode the tide up Rosario Strait and out into the Strait of Georgia to find wind! Lovely, constant wind. Getting to the head of Rosario Strait took almost no time at all. By 10:00 we were in the Strait of Georgia, looking through our binoculars at a crowd of boats in Echo Bay on Sucia Island.   We had the whole day ahead of us so we just went sailing, waiting for the Labor Day crowd to leave Sucia so we could find a decent anchorage and spend a little time there. We spent several hours on a warm sunny day just doing long tacks back and forth in the strait, finally having a chance to really get the hang of tacking Galapagos. It was fabulous. Let the vacation begin.

Long, easy tacks on the Strait of Georgia.

We found a great anchorage at Sucia between Little Sucia and the big island, just outside of Fox Cove. It’s not a marked anchorage and it’s nowhere near the mooring buoys. It was perfect. We are learning that we can trust our big Bruce anchor and heavy chain to hold us. We settled in for a couple of days to explore Sucia.

Scenes from Sucia

Sea lions on rocks off Sucia Island.

And just around the corner, seals on rocks. Classic.

That’s Little Sucia and the beach right by the boat.

Forest path on Sucia.

Galapagos and the sandstone of Sucia Island.

Little Blue Heron.

And the next day, it poured rain all day long. The hatch didn’t leak a bit. We stayed in bed and read books and ate bad things all day. Aside from expanding waistlines, this was our reward:

Sunset from Fox Cove

And this looking the other way.

And this.

And now you know why we miss the boat.

The following day was glorious sun and warm temperatures. Time to get off the boat and do some hiking around the island. More photos. Remember, I have almost 500 hundred to sort through.

 

It’s a vulture. It was busy dining on a small dogfish.

Sucia Island is known for its fossils. Here’s a little vein of fossilized shells in the sandstone.

Mike likes to go Geocaching whenever there is one around, and there was one at Sucia. He found this one easily. No cool prizes, though, although there was a pin from the American Club in Hong Kong. It’s probably still there if you want it. 

We stayed at this anchorage for close to three days, then beat time over to Poet’s Cove in Bedwell Harbor to check in with the Canadians. Galapagos’ first two owners live in British Columbia. She would be back in her home waters. More fun to come, so stay tuned.

Our dinghy, Tortoise.

Our dinghy, Tortoise.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Liebster Award… We’d Like to Thank YOU

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Little Cunning Plan was recently nominated for the Liebster Award for bloggers by bloggers. Will this make us rich and famous? Probably not. Does this mean that ‘we’ve arrived’? Well, I don’t know but it kind of feels that way. It is a very nice way to be recognized for our efforts and to connect with other bloggers and we’d like to give a shout out to Mark and Cindy aboard S/V Creampuff for nominating us. Thanks, you guys on the beautiful Amel sailboat!

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Cindy has described this as a kind of chain letter, like we used to send back in the day. I refuse to say how long ago that ‘day’ was but the idea is sound. Bloggers nominate other bloggers whose work they enjoy, then give them a list of questions to answer. Then nominated bloggers get to tag other bloggers and so it goes. In the end we will have woven a huge network of bloggers who know each other, at least in virtual space. It makes for a long post, but still, pretty cool!

So here are the questions they asked of us and our answers.

1.  Meet the crew. Who are you? Each share something about the other (not on the blog).

Melissa: Ooohhh. We have to talk about each other on the blog! Mike is the smartest man I know and that makes him dead sexy. He has an unlimited amount of space in his brain for information that lies dormant until the day it is needed when it pops seemingly out of nowhere. I have been in awe of that for 33 years. Sometimes I am amazed that Mike is a sailor. He is from land bound Tennessee and had never been on a sailboat in his life until 11 years ago.

Michael: Geez. No pressure, Boyte. This is probably obvious to Little Cunning Plan regulars but Melissa has an emotional awareness that can be a little intimidating to most people (including me) and it is what makes our blog so readable. I guess being a therapist for 25 years will do that.

Mike in the cockpit of Moonrise.

2.  What advice would you give to a wannabe traveler just starting out?

Melissa: Don’t look at the big picture too much. Just look at ‘today’ and the future will take care of itself in terms of your learning. Sure, there needs to be some kind of cunning plan, but if you think about all the things you have to learn and do to make it happen, it will be overwhelming.  It always helps me to remember that we are not the first people or the last people to travel by sailboat. If other people can do it, so can we. And so can you.

Michael: Momento Mori. Most of us struggle with beginning anything approaching epic because it feels like life is constantly getting in the way.  But remember, you don’t have a lot of time on  this earth. None of us do. Worrying about how to meet the expectations of a culture that values stuff over experience is for chumps. Disentangling yourself from those expectations is hard but the rewards are immeasurable.

And also, Goethe: Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.  Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.

3.  Can you roll your tongue or wiggle the end?

Melissa: I can do both.

Michael: I can hold my tongue; usually.

4.  What is your favorite restaurant in the whole world?

Melissa:   Oh my God, such an unfair question! My first thought is the little taco stand at the beach in La Paz. I love fish tacos. That was the best one I’ve ever had. But maybe it was the view or the sunshine. No, I’m pretty sure that was literally the best fish taco ever.

Michael: My current favorite is the Spice King in Renton, Washington. Right between the Asian Market and the eyebrow threading salon.  Great Indian food.

In the Strait of Juan de Fuca aboard Moonrise.

5. If you sail as a couple, who is really, and I mean really, the captain?

Melissa: Hmm, well I guess that depends on whether the shit is hitting the fan. If that happens it’s going to be Mike, although it will probably take me a minute to realize it. On Moonrise we used to get in each other’s way when something needed to happen fast. That’s because we have years of keeping thoughts inside our heads rather than saying them out loud. We can both be introverted much of the time. (Which is wierd, believe me.) We are also both pretty independent minded. On Moonrise, we used to kind of take turns being the captain.  Whoever was at the wheel was ‘in charge’. The auto pilot changed that. Our whole marriage has been almost Quaker in terms of consensus, which sometimes doesn’t work that well on a boat. Sailing on Galapagos is raising this whole subject to a new level of intensity. We’ve had a couple of lively little ‘discussions’ about communication on board and about expectations. I imagine that will settle down after awhile. So far we haven’t killed each other.

Michael: I am the captain. Heed Me, Wench!

Melissa: As if.

6.  What are your favorite meals to cook while sailing?

Melissa: I make a mean chicken salad that is satisfying and yummy. I serve it with fruit, rice crackers, and perhaps a good cheese. It’s going to be a challenge to stay away from rice/bean/wheat based meals when we do the long trip.

Michael: I really enjoy making a nice breakfast of sausage, eggs and lots of coffee in the morning. Eating a nice hot meal in the cockpit and watching the world come to life is a little slice of heaven.

From the Christening day. Just a sip. The rest was given to the gods of the sea and wind.

7.  Who’s idea was it to buy a boat and how did they convince the other person?

Originally it was Mike’s idea to buy a sailboat. We started sailing because our son got seriously injured when he was 12, and we needed something to help our family focus on healing. Mike’s co-worker was a sailor and he raced his Catalina 27 on Wednesday nights in Commencement Bay. He talked it up quite a bit and Mike got interested. When his friend wanted to sell his boat, he approached Mike. It was almost a done deal before I even knew it was happening. We were completely uneducated about sailboats at that point and never even looked around before buying the Saucy Sue. Mike knew the boat had been cared for, and he would be continuing to work with the guy so if anything came up he’d have someone to consult. I went to see the boat and, all other things being equal, said ‘sure’. We’ve each always encouraged the other in personal endeavors, and this was no different. Mike wanted the boat. That is all. At that point in my life, I was heavily into gardening and it was hard for me to tear myself away from my yard to go to the boat. My how things change!

Andrew in his youth aboard the Saucy Sue. We learn by doing.

Andrew in his youth aboard the Saucy Sue. We learn by doing.

8.  Where is your dream destination?

Melissa: Well, our boat name is Galapagos. Does that give a clue? Also the fjords of Chile. We’d like that, too. One step at a time is our mantra.

Michael: Wherever Melissa is.

9.  Why did you pick sailing as a form of transportation or hobby (over an RV/camper for instance)?

At first, sailing was not chosen as a form of transportation. In fact, even now, I would recommend that people not see it that way. If you can’t enjoy just being on the boat, then don’t buy one because you will simply be frustrated. We chose sailing because we wanted to be on the water to heal the hurt in our souls from our son’s accident. With a small boat like the Catalina, there isn’t much place to go around here if you want to do things like anchor out and you have only a weekend to get away. It takes too long to get anywhere in a small boat like that. So it was all about the sailing, and less about the ‘getting somewhere’ back then. Now, of course, it is both. But there is this thing about being on the water. It gives you some privacy, away from other people. Even though there are thousands of other boats up here, we can usually find a place that is not crowded. We like having a little ‘home’ on the water that we take around with us. I know an RV is like that, too, but we never even considered it. It literally never even crossed our minds. There’s no water under an RV. And other cars want you to go fast. No thanks. Not right now. But maybe later.

10.  Would you please describe your best sailing day ever? (or a link to it)

Melissa: Also a hard question because there have been plenty of amazing sailing days depending on how you define it. Two days come to mind. First, there is a day we had on Moonrise probably 5 or so years ago. We were off the west coast of San Juan Island. We had only the genoa out and were surrounded by Orcas. We sailed up and down that part of the coast, just watching the Orcas feeding.  Other people were watching from commercial whale watching boats, but we were on our own private sailboat. I remember thinking I was probably the luckiest woman alive just then and feeling overwhelmed with gratitude.The second day was one we had recently when bringing Galapagos home. We were in the Strait of Juan de Fuca as the sun was going down. Lucinda Williams was playing in the cockpit, a gentle breeze blew, it was warm, and we had just seen Humpback Whales. The sunset was beautiful. I wanted time to stand still just in that moment.

Michael: I will second Melissa’s nomination of our day bringing Galapagos home. I remember telling her that I was the luckiest man alive to be on that boat at that moment with this woman.

Melissa: And we will close the curtain on that little interlude.

Sunset over Vancouver Island

So now we get to nominate some other blogs for the Liebster Award and this is the hard part.  There are a lot of interesting blogs out there so there had to be a way of narrowing down the field because we get to nominate only 10. At least one of our favorites has already been nominated. Others we like don’t post with regularity or they are very new. Still others we read are already wildly popular, so they are already recognized in the larger blog sphere.  In the end, I chose blogs that we’ve been following regularly, who post frequently, who have been around awhile, and who we think deserve a larger audience. It was harder than I thought because we seriously read a lot of blogs. I hope none of these have already been nominated. Here is our list:

1. Bettie Del Mar
2. Latitude 43
3. Our Life with Ceol Mor
4. The Yoders Afloat
5. The Third Quarter
6. San Juan Sufficiency
7. Nor’Sea 27 Rhapsody
8. The Cynical Sailor & His Salty Sidekick
9. Mid Life Cruising
10. S/V The Red Thread

So if you are on this list your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to create a blog post where you answer the following questions. Then nominate 10 blogs that you enjoy, make up your own questions,  and pass it on. Here are your secret questions meant to make you bare your soul to the world:

1. What is the worst mistake you’ve ever made with your boat?
2. What is your secret fear about living/cruising on a sailboat?
3. What do you like and dislike most about being a blogger?
4. If you could tell a sailboat shopper the most important thing to look for in a boat,  what would it be? Yes, you get to pick only one thing.
5. What thing do other boaters do that irritates you?
6. Journey or Destination?
7. Which sailboat reference book would you recommend someone absolutely have on board? Which sailing adventure book?
8.  What is the most important piece of gear you carry on your person or keep handy in your cockpit?
9. How slow will you go before you turn on your engine?
10.  If money were no object, what boat would you choose?

May the Force be with you as you write up your posts! We look forward to interesting reading in the days ahead. And now…..we prepare for our two weeks on the water! Woo hoo!