Grandma and Grandpa go sailing ("What about Dad?")

We had an excellent family sail with the Anderson Grandparents on Friday (June 23). They were visiting from New Mexico, and haven't sailed much. In fact, I'm pretty sure the only other times they have sailed was with us. They couldn't have picked a better weekend to visit. The weather was perfect.

All aboard.

We arranged to leave about noon which means we were underway more like 12:30pm. It always takes a bit of time to get loaded and checked out. We had a northerly wind so we tried sailing out of the harbor, but the currents were too strong. The tide was just coming in. This should have been a sign, a shot across the bow so to speak, but we didn't clue in completely. The currents were going to come back to haunt us.

Our ultimate goal was Anthony's restaurant in Tacoma. We'd never been there so it would be an adventure to find the guest moorage and restaurant. We realized we needed to compensate for some current so we kept our course slightly north of our destination.

Almost immediately after turning of the motor and getting under full sail we had our first overboard. No no. Not a person overboard, but a life jacket. This was better than a drill because it was so unexpected. I'm not sure how exact I was to the method, but I was able to stop the boat right next to the jacket. A successful rescue!!!! But not the last.

A tasty dinner at Anthony's on Ruston Way near Tacoma.

By this time we were commenting on the current but not fully realizing our situation. We had drifted south towards the bridge. When looking at landmarks from the water, it takes quite a distance before one can perceive motion past it. We had drifted further past Point Defiance than we thought. Still, we had the motor so we weren't worried. Then another rescue.

Again, not a person, but an item. One daughter carelessly tossed another's hat to her and it went sailing overboard. Things went smoothly again and we rescued the hat.

The all too familiar act of motoring.

At this point, the wind was calm and we were clear back on the peninsula side of the sound again. We .

decided to motor and that's when we began to realize what the current was doing. It took us forever to get up and around the point. Once around the point we hoisted the sails and continued on, but by the time we got there, it had been 5 hours

We had a lovely dinner at Anthony's and a brisk sail back to the harbor after that. It took less than an hour to get back. On the way home we passed the large freighter that's holding the new bridge sections. It was very impressive.

All in all, a great sail.

Woody

My first sail in "Wee Blow"

I finally did it. I took the plunge, but I didn't take a plunge. I finally took the little sailing dinghy I built on it's maiden sailing voyage. I was suprised at how challenging it turned out to be. Not just getting it to the water, but all the associated mental hurdles.

First I had to buy a trailer. Since I hadn't planned on needing to use a trailer I wanted to spend as little money as possible on something that would work. I found what I needed at Harbor Freight; a folding trailer that you put together yourself. Compared to other trailers it was cheap, but like I said, I didn't want to buy a trailer in the first place so I had some anxiety about putting down the money. And then I had to put it together.

Thank goodness for pictures because some companies cannot produce useful instructions using English. At one point, the instructions told me to tighten a bolt "smugly". I only had to hope I wouldn't ruin the trailer because I wasn't feeling smug. I managed to get it all together with only 5-10 spare pieces. Not bad.

That was the easy part. The hard part was finding a way to pull the trailer. I am getting a hitch put on our car soon, but I don't have it yet. My neighbor offered to let me use his truck. I don't like borrowing other peoples cars. It's too risky in my opinion. On top of that, I've never owned or pulled a trailer. And, on top of that, I've never launched a boat.

So, without any experience, I was going to take someone elses truck, with my new trailer attached, back it down a boat ramp, unload the boat, and get the truck back up the ramp all by myself. Maybe I'm a wimp, but there it is. I had anxiety. I did a lot of pacing around the kitchen before finally driving off and doing it.

What can I say. It went well. Loading and unloading the boat posed little problem. I was glad there wasn't a lot of activity. That helped a lot.

Now to the sailing. The boat really zips along. IT was a lot of fun. I had a stiff breeze and clear skys which made me comfortable. At one point the rudder came off which was a bit of a fiasco, but I made it back to the dock with the oars and got it back on. At another point, the boom fell off (the lower boom) because one of my knots came loose. Again, I was able to recover. The leeboard and rudder needed extra tightening. Overall, I was very pleased. It was able to sail the various points of sail. I was able to go where I needed to go.

Now I need to get the hitch on so I can go when I want.

May Club Sail

It's the beginning of the month, and you know what that means....

Club Sail!!!

There were only two people today; myself and Tom. It was a great day for a sail. We stayed out an hour longer than we meant too, but we made it as far north as Olalla which was fun. I always prefer having a destination on my trips. We didn't see any wildlife, but we had a great time battling large swells and dodging a barge.

I was excited to see how quickly we made it to Olalla. Our family is planning a trip to Blake Island at the end of the month and I'm hoping we can do it in 4-6 hours. I think it can be done with a good wind.

The tides were very low when we started. It's amazing how different things can look depending on the tide. At high tide everything seems so accessible and spread out and comfortable. With a low tide, you feel small and cramped. The beaches, trees, and structures all tower over you looking down. I love the variety of the water.

Woody

Our First Family All day cruise!!!

Up until now, our family has sailed for, at most, half day's at a time. We rarely had destinations because of time and distance. This trip was different. This trip was a long one with a destination, and something we'd been planning for weeks.

Our destination was a tiny village on Vashon (actually Maury) island called Dockton. Sophia and I had been there once before about a year ago. It's one of the few destinations we can reach in a day from Gig Harbor. I've included a map to show the route. Hopefully it will be clear enough.

Each leg of the journey was 9.44 (regular)miles making the entire trip a grand total of 19 miles. I mention this to help you appreciate the relatively good time we made on the boat.

The weather was interesting, and our start questionable. We had planned on arriving at the boat at 9:00am and being on our way by 9:30 or 9:45. I had been following the forecast far in advance trying to keep our reservation on the best day (Thanks to Dave for being patient as we kept moving it around). The forecast for our day was clouds giving way to sunshine. For this area, it sounded quite positivie. Imagine our dismay when we woke up to rain that morning.

Now, being Washingtonians, we are not easily dissuaded by a little bit of wet. We forged ahead, expecting the rain to give way to sunshine, but it was still coming down steadily by the time we were ready to go. My daughter took a picture of the rain while she sat in the car waiting for me. I really wanted to sail, but I knew we'd be miserable if we went in that kind of wetness so I delayed our departure for an hour. If it cleared up, we'd go, if it didn't we'd cancel.

Miracle of miracles, it did indeed clear up and we set off over an hour later. Things went smoothly for the next while. We got to the dock, rigged the boat, stowed our gear, reviewed our departure checklist and left. By this time the sky was blue with puffy white clouds and we had a breeze that already felt stronger than what was forecast.

One of our issues on the boat is that the girls always want to sit up front with legs dangling over the edge. It's probably safe, but it makes us feel really nervous and so we go round and round about where they are or aren't allowed on the boat. I think as we continue doing this we will figure things out.

Having a boat with a cabin really made a difference. The girls were able to get out of the wind, and they had a comfortable area they could sprawl out in. They could play games, listen too the tape player and take off their life vests for comfort. There was even a forward hatch they could pop open and look out from.

We had packed up a lunch to eat at dockton, but something about sailing makes one hungry and we had all downed our lunches within the hour.

Outside the harbor we had a moment of panic as the full force of the winds hit us. The winds were much stronger than we expected. We decided to heave-to so we could reef the main. In the process both my bowline knots shook loose in the jib sheets (the ropes that allow us to control the forward sail). It doesn't sound scary, but it certainly feels scary to be out in all that water, with the wind whipping the sails about, the waves rocking the boat, and being spun about. It was all over in a moment though. We turned the motor on to get some control, reefed the main and changed to the smallest jib. This was much better and allowed us to control the boat. It also wasted additional time.

Now we were truly underway. We were flying along at a fast clip. Other than the big following waves (2 feet) and strong winds, we had a great sail to the park and made good time.

The park. What to say about the park. It's really not a big deal. It has a small play area, a large grassy area, a washington beach (i.e. barnacle encrusted pebbles and boulders). It also had locked bathrooms (big disappointment), and a gate locked across the ramp from the docks to the pier. Talk about annoying. We'd come all that way to a closed park. What to do? Climb the fence. We rested and played and ate. Speaking of eating.

The girls really trashed the cabin. I found trash and food everywhere. We weren't very pleased and had a cleanup. I think the rule will have to be only non-messy foods on the boat, and no foods in the boat (ie, you have to eat in the cockpit).

At this point, the skys had clouded back over, but luckily the wind was still strong and we didn't have any rain. The wind was the same direction so whereas before, we'd been on beam and broad reaches the entire way, we would now be tacking all the way home. Tacking, by nature, is wetter (because you are heading into the waves and they splash against the bow), windier (because you are sailing towards the wind), and scarier (because the boat is heeling all the time). This all combines to make it a bit scarier, but we were up to it. We were all more comfortable with the boat and what it could do. Even though we were tacking, we made really good time.

Our camera went dead while we were at the park so we didn't get any pictures of our return trip. Nothing extraordinary happened, except to say that the entire trip was extraordinary. Even when there's nothing to say in particular, it's very exciting to sail in such conditions. We had a great time. We were all bone tired and cold (Monica, Sophia & I), but happily spent. The kids were already talking about next time, and taking an overnighter to Blake Island.

Once upon a time on a beautiful spring day...

Northwester winters are long and dark, and the gray days seem to prolong the arrival of spring. So, when a day blooms bright and clear, and the temperature is moderate, one can't help thinking of being outside. In my case, one can't help thinking of sailing.

My day had already been disrupted beyond repair with a visit to our mortgage broker/mentor and the title company. Why not make it a complete break? I put in a call to our club manager to see if we could sail the dinghy.

The club dinghy is available to all members to sail without charge. It's a small boat at only 8' in length so I don't think it gets used that much. We met Dave (our manager) at the dock and he stepped us through the setup process. I say we because I had my 5 year old daughter in tow.

I had never sailed a boat this small before so I was a bit nervous. To add to my anxiety was the strong wind and extremely narrow path between docks to get to open water. In fact, not only was the path narrow (15' at the narrowest), the wind was blowing right at us. My plan was to tack my way out. I figured a small boat like this could do it. I figured wrong.

Most likely it's my sailing, but my experience yesterday leads me to believe that small, light boats are more prone to being blown sideways by the wind: even with a center board. Nevertheless, with a combination of paddling and tacking and pushing off other boats with my hands, I managed to clear the docks and get into the harbor proper.

Getting out was fun, in a challenging way, but being out in the harbor was a blast. With the brisk wind we flew all over the place. First stop was the bathroom for Camille and then it was the lighthouse. We would have liked to have gotten out at the lighthouse, but without wading boots, our shoes would have gotten wet I'm sure. The wind was northeasterly which meant we had to tack our way back home. In general, when going on a little excursion like this, it's a good idea to out against the wind, and come home with the wind. If there's a current it gets a little more complicated, but in this case any developing tidal currents were working against us as well. Nevertheless, we made it home. All in all a great fun trip.

A note about small boats. They are uncomfortable. Though this boat was rated to hold my weight, I found it very difficult to duck the book and seer (the tiller was in the small of my back). Oh well. I still look forward to doing it again.

Until next time.

Story: Cuts

The first year we had our boat, we kept it anchored near the boat launch. This was convenient in two ways. First, it was a 2 minute drive from our home to the launch, where I could paddle the dinghy out and get the boat. Second, on my daily walks, I could walk down to the launch and check the status of the boat: make sure it hadn't drug anchor, etc...

One of the most horrifying moments of my life happened on one particular walk. I can still see it clearly. The harbor slowly coming into sight, with no sign of our boat. I hurried right to the shore hoping the boat had drug anchor, or something like that, but it was gone. I couldn't see it anywhere.

I walked home as quickly as I could, and got on the phone. I had a friend who lent me his kayak, and I proceeded to circle the harbor in search of the boat.

I found it about half a mile down the harbor beached under someones private dock. It was a clear day, but the water was cold. It was going to be a tricky maneuver to get it out of there. The wind was blowing toward the dock, and I had no motor. There was also another dock a short distance away. I had no motor. I was going to need to get the boat out from under the dock and then get her under sail before she drifted back under the dock. The tide was coming in, and I was anxious to get her away before the home owner came out angry.

In the end, I did get it out, and I did get it under sail, and I did get it successfully anchored out in the harbor, but not before I had to jump into the water up to my waist to do so.

The really offensive part of this whole experience was to find that he anchor line had been cut. I learned later from neighbors along the shore, that there is a man (they wouldn't name) who liked to cut anchor lines of boats he considered derilict. I was furious, but because my partner still had the boat in his name, I had to wait for him to press charges. He never did, and the issue faded away.

Lesson learned: some people are just creeps.

Story: Lateral shift

I'll try to keep this one short. I find I frequently tell it to other's when making a point about tidal currents. The tides in our area can move as much as 12ft in a cycle. This kind of movement will create some good currents, even in a protected harbor like ours.

As usual, this happened at the fully occupied public dock. We were on the windward side of the dock, with our bow pointed out into the harbor, and no boats in front of us. My plan was simple. push away from the dock and do a beam reach out. That was the plan, but not what happened.

What happened was that as soon as we cleared the dock we immediately shot sideways towards the marina next to it. I'd expected some drift because we were on a beam reach, but this was substantial. In fact, I barely had time to grab and oar and fend off a piling. Within a minute or two, we had been pushed into an empty slip at the private marina. I hadn't taken the current into consideration. Luckily, no boats were damaged other than a couple of scrapes to our own. AFter a little thinking, I was able to leverage the boat out of the slip and we were away. Lesson learned - always know where and what the currents are.

Ahhh yes, back in the groove

What a great sail we had yesterday. It was the first monday of the month, and time for our March club sail. The Gig Harbor Sailing club holds a group sail on the first Monday of every month.

The winds were quite strong; strong enough, that I called Dave to see if we were still going out. Of course, I was gung ho to go and didn't care. I don't know what the actual wind speeds were. I do know that when I left my house, weatherbug was reporting 17mph winds at the airport. I know we had some strong gusts; probably somewhere in the 20-30 mph range.

I've been in heavy weather before with the Irreantum, but it was always alarming. The Irreantum didn't have reefing capabilities. It also had a large sail area so it was very responsive to big winds. The boat we went in yesterday was reefable and had a small jib. Also, I wasn't the only sailor on board. All of us were trained in the basics which made it much easier to keep things trimmed.

It was nice to see that I'm not the only sailor spooked by heavy weather.
It took all of us a bit of time to get used to the gusts, healing and strong wind changes, but in the end we did and had a great time. We practiced a heave-to and an crew overboard rescue. One of the members brought some pastries along as well; a most excellent tradition that I think I'll try to continue as well.

I tried to take some pictures that would capture the intense wind, but they really don't look that bad. We had waves in the harbor which is pretty rare because it is so sheltered and small. A few times we even had white caps. On top of the waves were tiny ripples where the wind was ruffling the top. Anyway, for what they're worth, here are a few pictures.

Ode to a Sailors Wife

It takes a special woman to do what my wife did yesterday. I think I've already mentioned that we've joined the Gig Harbor Sailing club. We are now taking sailing lessons to qualify to check out club boats. My wife is taking the lessons with me, and we had our first two lessons this week - and what a week! The sky's have been sunny and blue, and the wind has been great. But, it has been so cold! Wednesday it was in the very low 40's (like 41 or 42), and yesterday it was more like 38. Add 16mph winds to that and you get a chill. Yet, my wife weathered it all.

Not just any woman, would brave those conditions, but she did. I think she'd rather not go out when it's that cold, but we both enjoyed it.

I'm not a talented writer, but I've written some "poetry" in honor of my lovely wife. The only reason, I'm comfortable posting them here is because I'm pretty sure, no one reads this but me.

LAYERS

I slip on my thermals
and then my itchy wool socks
My sweatpant, and my ski pants
My long sleeved shirt,
My sweatshirt,
My parka,
My gloves,
My stocking hat,
and my sunglasses.
Layers and layers,
take a cross section
and count the rings.

HEELING
It happens in a moment.
My heart races,
I grip the tiller to hold her steady, and
the world tilts.
I lean backwards,brace my heels against the opposite seat,
and stare down into the rushing green water.
This is heeling.

WHY DO I SAIL?
I like sailing,
when it's not windy.
I like the water
when it's not cold.
I like boats,
when they're not heeling.
It's a good activity,
when there's nothing
else to do.
Why do I sail?
Because I love him.

I love you Monica.


Woody

Anchors away!!

Well, I've done it. I've joined the Gig Harbor Sailing Club. It's actually a club and a school. This is good news for everyone. For me because I get to sail more. For my family, because they get to sail more. For you because now I'll have more interesting things to write about than my old sailing stories.

Many of my day sailing trips are going to be outside the mouth of the harbor in the same area. Sailboats can only go so fast so in half a day there is a certain nautical area we can cover. I don't plan to upload lots of pictures of the same things. I've already taken many pictures of point defiance, and the mouth of Gig Harbor. Instead, I'll only post pictures of new, unusual or beautiful things.

Also, because so much will be happening in this area. I thought a map with the names of prominant geographical features would be useful. Below is such a map courtesy of google earch.

If you've never tried google earth, you need to. It is the coolest mapping tool I've ever seen.

Story: Lowering the mast

This is probably my last story, since I don't recall any other interesting events during our last boat ownership experience. This one follows on the heels of the last one with the same message - don't trust your doubts to the experts. If you think it's a bad idea, it probably is. Here's the story.

We sold our sailboat, the Irreantum, on Ebay to a fellow in Idaho. This gentlemen travelled quite a distance to come over, put together the cradle (the same one we used), and take the boat home. One of the challenges we faced, was lowering the rather large, heavy mast. I've never seen how masts are supposed to be raised or lowered, but I'd sure like to. You already know how we raised the mast. I remembered it quite well, so I had reservations about lowering. I think think poles with u shaped notches (or some other secure way to control the mast) is what's need to lower it safely, but that's not what we did.

Instead, we rigged an interesting arrangement of lines from the mast to the dock in order to control the mast. Being as heavy as it was, we lost control soon after we started tipping it and it came crashing down between two other boats. It cracked a spreader, but I was just happy to see we hadn't damaged any other boats.

That's it.

Story: How not to launch a boat.

I've gotten a little out of order with my anectdotes. I last told about my fateful voyage under the bridge from Penrose state park to Gig Harbor. Now, I'd like to go back in time to my first great episode with the boat (and also my first hint that no one is truly and expert when it comes to boats). I'd like to tell you how we got our boat into the water in the first place.

When my partner - not my spouse mind you. In my stories, my partner is my partner in boat ownership. When my partner bought the boat, it was sitting on a custom build wooden cradle which, in turn, sat on a flat bed trailer. The boat was tied to the cradle, and the cradle was tied to the trailer.

Being working men, we scheduled a time to do this, and then had to do it at that time. Time, and tides both play a factor in this. Time, because we picked about the worst time to do this. Tides, because it was the low, low tide that made it the worst time. Let me explain.

At low tide, the water barely reaches the end of the boat ramp. In fact, in really low tides, it may not reach the boat ramp. We had water on the boat ramp, but not much. Recall how the boat was mounted on the trailer; it was quite high in the air. Thus, we need to back the trailer out fairly far into the water in order to float the boat off. The low tide, didn't really give us much room to do that in. Nevertheless, being enthusiastic, and committed, we made a plan.

The plan was to tie the hitch of the trailer to the front bumper of the truck and slowly lower the boat into the water. Why the rope? Because the truck would be too far into the water before the boat could float off. Why the front bumper? So the driver could see better what he (me) was doing.

My partner climbed into the boat (via a ladder) to be ready to motor it to the city dock across the harbor. I got in the truck and proceeded to lower the boat into the water. At this point things happened quickly.

Whether the rope was cut by the bumper, or the weight of the boat was too strong for the rope, I'm not sure, but the rope broke and the trailer went careening down the ramp (partner on top) and into the water. It was riding very low because the boat was still tied to the cradle which was still tied to the trailer; a trailer we didn't own. The water was much too cold for me to wade out and try and pull them close to shore to get the trailer. There was only one course of action...

CC cut the rope. The trailer dropped to the sea floor, but the cradle wouldn't budge. It took another 20-30 minutes of my partner fighting with it, before it finally floated free from the underside of the boat.

To make a long story short, some fishermen happened to be motoring by and kindly helped us get the cradle to shore. Then they spent a bit of time, trolling for the trailer, which they found and hauled to shore as well. My partner in the meantime, motored to the other side.

The moral of the story. If you are uneasy about an idea, don't trust the experts, trust your instinct.

The End

Story: Bringing her about (important lessons)

No this is not a story about convincing my wife that this was all a good thing. It's also not about giving her a ride out to see the boat.

No, this is THE story about when we brought the boat back from the park to Gig Harbor.

We had been given notice by the park ranger that we were not welcome there anymore so we had to the move the boat. It was too far away to keep an eye on it if we just anchored it there, and really there wasn't much room for that. So, we had decided it was time to bring her back.

I was really looking forward to making the trip, and we will see how over-zealousness can be one's undoing. I'd had trouble starting the motor during a previous visit, but figured I just didn't know what I was doing. When my partner and I arrived for our big trip, he was unable to start it as well. I convinced him that we could just sail her to Gig Harbor. At first, he was doubtful, but in the end he wasn't too hard to convince. So, with nothing but the wind for our help, we set sail. Oh what fools... This is how prepared we were

• No radio, cell phone or walkie-talkie (or semaphores, mirrors, horns or whistles)
• One life jacket
• No warm clothes (we were dressed only for the warmth of the day
• No rain gear
• Only a light snack for food (we only expected 3-4 hours)
• No charts or tide tables

Clearly a dumb move on our part. Not having planned a sailing trip before, I would like to plead ignorance, but a little thought would have solved several of these. Where was my scout training?

For reference, here is a picture of where we travelled, and the path we took.


We left with a nice breeze, and had an enjoyable sail until we reached the southern tip of Fox Island. There is a reef near this point, that is shallow enough to be bare at low tide. It would have been nice to know where it was. We were lucky we didn't hit it. The wind had been blowing from a northerly direction so we expected (or I did anyway) to have even beeter wind as we rounded Fox Island. I was thinking the wind would be channelled through the Tacoma Narrows. Nothing doing.

My geography was wrong. You can see in the picture how the narrows is twisted. In addition, the island, and the other coastlines are high cliff's (50-100'). So, instead of getting more wind as we rounded the point, the wind died altogether.

We couldn't have picked a worse place, or time for this to happen. The point where the narrows and Carr inlet meet, can get some pretty interesting rip tides. Our hope had been to pass through here and the narrows before the tide came in. The tidal currents in the narrows can get very strong, and we needed to get through before the currents turned against us.

We were in the doldrums, with nothing left to do but twirl and swirl around in the gentle tides. We tried to maximize our use of every little puff of wind, and to my partners credit he managed to get us just past point B (on the picture) before the currents began to push us back. We didn't want to lose ground so we edged over near the western coastline and dropped anchor. By this time it was late afternoon/early evening. The temperature was dropping, and we were hungry.

We both took our turns at the motor desperately trying to get it to start, but we had no luck. We said a prayer or too, and then decided to try pulling the boat along the coast. I being the more agile one of the group, jumped ashore with a rope in hand and began to pull the boat towards Gig Harbor. It was slow work, and dicey at times. The most alarming event was seeing the boat slam up and down on the the rocky sea floor when some wake waves suprised us. We made it to point C and thought we were home free.

At point C, we thought we were out of the currents influence and decided to try sailing in. There was still no wind, but our hypothesis was that the current coming through the narrows would make a large eddy there and actually swirl us right into the harbor. Yes, that was our thinking. But, that's not how it works. As soon as I got back into the boat (somewhat wet now), we began to drift back towards the bridge. The currents were slacking again because an hour or so had passed, so our progress wasn't extreme. Still, we ended up at point D.

At this point, it was dark, and the water was like glass. It was cold, and we were hungry and tired. It had been thirteen hours since we left. My wife, was wondering if we were dead or not and had called the Coast Guard. It was a good thing she did, because in the end, that's how we got picked up. It was late enough, that we were hopeful someone would come looking for us. As we scanned the city lights, we noticed some car lights blinking in our direction. Hoping it was someone looking for us, I started turning our navigation lights on and off. This went on for a bit and then the blinking stopped. We continued to wait a while more and then saw the lights of a power boat leave the harbor. We started signalling again, and were relieved to see the boat move towards us.

Thirteen hours and 18 miles later, we were saved. It was the Gig Harbor police. They towed us in and saw us safely docked. It was 11:00pm at night. It was a beautiful night. A slight mist had moved in, and the air and water were very calm. I was glad to be home. And, I learned some valuable lessons that have stuck with me on every trip I've taken. Here they are:

• Always leave a travel plan with someone: routes, arrival, departure times, etc...
• Study tide tables and charts before hand and take them with you in case plans change.
• Make sure you have enought flotation devices and wear them.
• Take extra food and water
• Dress warmly (warm enough for an overnighter)
• Dress for inclimate weather (we'd have been in trouble had it started raining on us which it's likely to do in these parts)
• Be sure to have flares, a horn, first aid equipment, etc...
• Arrange communication. Take a radio, cell phone or walkie talkie. Work it out ahead of time.
• Have tools and extra parts for fixing things (like engines).
• Make sure the engine works if you have one. Otherwise, plan on long voyages.

We did have a rubber dinghy, and if push had come to shove, one of us could have rowed home and gotten help. Though, if you've every rowed a rubber dinghy, this would have been a struggle itself.

This has turned into quite the novel. Sorry about that.

Woody

Story: Stepping the Mast

When my partner bought the boat at auction, the rigging was all bundled up and laid flat on top of the boat. For all my imaginary readers who are non-sailors, the rigging consists of the mast, spars, lines, stays, and everything else that is used to hold and maneuver the sails. I'd never thought about how that stuff was put up. But, I trusted that my experienced partner, knew what to do. As it turns out, most sailors, do not know how to step, or unstep, a mast.

When we decided to rig the boat, it was still moored at the state park. This park was about a 45 minute drive from our house and lacked any stores etc... Therefore, we needed to get it done in one fell swoop since it was so inconvenient to go to the boat.

The mast probably weighed 75-100lbs and was about 26 feet long. Our first approach was to place the bottom of the mast in the step, and then try to push it up, but it was too heavy and long for us to get the leverage we needed. We tried this approach for quite a while with no luck; we were starting to get a little desperate. To this point, I'd said nothing, but I decided to start offering my own idea. My idea was for one person to float the boat under the dock bridge while the other held the mast over the side of the bridge. We would lower the mast onto the boat and the person in the boat could get things squared away.

There were two problems. First, the mast was very hard to control for a single person, and second, the tide was coming in and we were quickly losing space under the bridge. To solve the first problem, I lashed the mast to the side of the bridge. It was a loose lashing, but it helped me hang on to the mast while my partner moved the boat. There was no solution to the second problem except to race against time.

We did barely get it done, but it was tough and awkward with a lot of scary moments in between. With the tide high, and the boat almost pressed against the bottom of the bridge, the mast remained unwieldy. But, in the end, we got the mast on.

I'm still not sure what would have been better.

I'll have to tell you about when another expert sailor helped me lower the mast.

Until then,

Happy sailing.
Woody

Story: Where do you put a boat? (Part I)

This is more an anectdote than a story. It's about how we acquired a boat, and the subsequent difficulties of boat ownership.

We had only lived in Gig Harbor for about 3 months, and I was very keen on joining the sailing scene. I met several people at church who enjoyed sailing, and one in particular who was very enthusiastic. I was very cautious about spending much family money on sailing and was looking for low-cost approaches. In fact, I was leaning strongly towards building my own little sailing boat. My friend offered to give me a 30ft steel lifeboat he had in his backyard. I couldn't really imagine a 30' lifeboat, but I knew it was too large for me to work with so I declined.

A short time later, he called with another offer; "Would I like to be a partner in owning a boat?" Naturally, I wanted to, but I needed to convince the family. So, we made a trip and viewed the boat. It seemed absolutely huge, but beautiful. The price was right; there was just one question remaining. Where would we keep it?

Simple. Was my future partners reply? You drop a glob of cement in the harbor, hook a chain and float to it and you have a moorage! Take a look in the harbor - most of those boats have done just that.

Really? Awesome! Was my reply, and we joined the partnership.

I had never really noticed the group of boats clustered in the harbor before. They were a motley collection, in various states of mold and disrepair. One in particular was unique. It was a trimaran. A triple hulled sailboat with a small cabin in the middle. It was probably one of the worst and listed badly to one side. None of this mattered to me though. They were boats, and they were beautiful, and we would soon be joining them. Or so I thought.

The week following the formation of our joint partnership, there was an article in the newspaper about the "Illegally Moored Boats In The Harbor". We hadn't moored ours yet; it was still at the public dock (overtextending it's welcome already). This article alarmed me by explaining that our plan for moorage was illegal. Furthermore, the home owners along that part of the harbor were complaining. I don't sympathize with their point of view (about owning the sea and sky outside their windows), but they were pushing strongly to have the illegal boats removed.

I knew I didn't want to moor our boat illegally and told my partner the same. But what to do then. Moorage in the harbor is expensive, and neither of us felt we could afford it. That's when we had the plan to keep it at a state park out in the woods. The park was closed for winter and no one was using it so it would do for the time.

Well, to make a long, boring story short, we played cat and mouse with the ranger there for several months. We would keep it at the dock for the maximum number of days, and then we would anchor it in the small inlet for a bit, and then repeat the process. Eventually, we had to leave though, and that brought us back to the original questions. Where do you put a boat?


Captain Woody

12 ft isn't very big

Well, I did it! I took the boat out for it's first trial. I'm scared to try the sail until I get used to the boat itself. So, a friend and I took the boat down and rowed it about. It handled very nicely, and took the weight of both of us (probably 500lbs) admirably. There's really not much more to say except to share the pictures.

To the left is a picture of the boat tied to the dock near the launch ramp. You can tell it was a beautiful afternoon.

The next step is to practice rigging the sail a couple more times and then do a trial sail. My main concerns are handling stronger winds, gusts of winds, and knockdowns. I really want to avoid tipping the boat. In these cold waters, a person can die of hypothermia within 30 minutes.


To the right is a picture of me rowing it away from the dock for the first time. We were rowing canoe style because I hadn't mounted the oarlocks yet. One of the purposes of this rowing expedition was to determine a good position for the oarlocks. I think I was successfull. We'll see.

Landlocked

It's now been 3 months (going on 4) since we sold our little sailboat. It has been a relief financially and emotionally not to have it down at the marina. But, I do miss having access to a boat and to the water. I mentioned earlier that our plan was to sell the boat and join the sailing club. That is still the plan, but with a condition. The condition I put on myself was that I must finish the little sailing dinghy I've been building for the last 3 years. My wife has encouraged me because she would like to have more room in the garage for our car. It's taken me a lot longer than it should have, but I am proud to announce that the little boat (as yet unnamed) has been finished.

Here's a lovely picture of my creation.



Of course, when I say finished I mean finished in sailing terms. Boats are never finished - as any boat owner can attest. The important thing is that she's (boats are always female) seaworthy. I'm sure I will be tinkering around with her for a long time, but I can now move her under the tarp outside, and of course, take her in the water.



Of course, I'm scared to take her sailing. Notice the large sail area, and the tiny boat underneath. Now imaging brisk winds pushing on the sail. What's keeping the boat from tipping? Me. Because of my >ahem< caution, I've devised a plan for safely acclimating myself to the boat. It's simple

• Phase 1: I take the boat rowing only until I've positioned the oarlocks and become comfortable with how she handles and floats.
• Phase 2: I practice rigging her in my driveway until I am comfortable with how everything should work and somewhat proficient in putting things up and taking them down.
• Phase 3: On a calm day, I take her to the water, rig her up and put her in.
• Phase 4: Judgment day. I go for it.

I hope to do this all fairly quickly. Also, I'm planning on joining the sailing club at the end of the month. If all works out well, I'll have more stories and pictures to post soon.

Until then, keep bailing.

Cap'n Woody