The big troller at the end is in 5' of water. His length is about the width of the space between him and the boats on his port side. He'll turn around in that space and then full throttle down the quay (on the right) into the main channel, around the corner (which you can see from the bridge picture) down the remaining channel, under the bridge and out to sea. On the other side of the quay (the wall on the right hand side, which is really only a wooden fence) is another narrow channel thats leads to the upper marina.Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Ft. Bragg main marina
The big troller at the end is in 5' of water. His length is about the width of the space between him and the boats on his port side. He'll turn around in that space and then full throttle down the quay (on the right) into the main channel, around the corner (which you can see from the bridge picture) down the remaining channel, under the bridge and out to sea. On the other side of the quay (the wall on the right hand side, which is really only a wooden fence) is another narrow channel thats leads to the upper marina.
ft, bragg entrance from the bridge
This is the entrance into Ft. Bragg. The bridge is 97 feet high and the navigable channel is 48 feet wide ... but add a three fishing boats rafted abreast, with a beam of 13 feet each and the navigable channel is reduced to about 9 feet wide. The marina is around the corner to the left behind the trees. At night, all of those building have lights which disguise the bouy markers. On the other side of the bridge are high rock jetty's that form the channel.
tj by the Golden Gate
I've just turned 55 years old; come 1000 nautical miles from Tacoma; sailing my own vessel under the Golden Gate Bridge and I'm clowning around on the mast with single reef in the main. Can't think of any place I'd rather be, or anything I'd rather be doing ...
Itchen log August 15 - 20, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Lay day in Eureka, CA. Nice town with friendly people. Went to the movie (Bourne Ultimatum), Costco and a thrift store. Did laundry and took showers (for free). Filled with fuel 39.8 gallons (fuel consumption 0.9 gallons/hour) so I’ll go back to 1800 RPM and see if that saves me a little diesel. Filled the starboard water tank. It looks like we use about 50 gallons/4 days, which equals 12.5 gallons/day). The cruising books say most boats use about 6 gallons/day and twice that with electric pumps (looks like they were right).
Thursday, August 16, 2007 – 0615-
Depart Eureka (Humboldt Bay) for Ft. Bragg, CA; it’ll be a long trip. Overcast, seas calm with swells 1-3 feet out of the NW. 1100 – skies cleared as we rounded Cape Mendocino (at last out of the NW weather). Down to shorts and a t-shirt by noon from long johns, fleece and foul weather gear, which we had been wearing all the way down the coast. Not much happening … on Julie’s watch she spotted a tug and a tow on the horizon, which passed us by late afternoon. 1400 - Caught a NW breeze, so I raised the main and jib, but it didn’t help much. Dusk came and we were still about 30 miles out … only able to do about 6 knots. Clear, starry night. Looking up, I imagined I could see the bottom of a hull passing overhead. I judged the LOA to be about 34 light years and the beam about 13. It looked like a trawler and he seemed to be moving a little faster than us.
2330 – Dock at Ft. Bragg … what an entrance; narrow, shallow and twisty. Just about the time we reached what we thought was the end, we could see more of the channel. Julie was on the bow giving direction, telling me go starboard, I couldn’t, as there were rocks. Someone flicked a cigarette into the channel and nearly hit the boat … Julie shouted, “for the love of God, will you please go starboard.” Starboard I went … but not by very damn much! The channel (actually more like a creek) wasn’t narrow enough, so the fishing boats rafted off two and three deep of each other. Got into a slip though, tied off and hit the rack. The dripless packing gland is dripping and the transmission is leaking fluid. I’ll need to investigate tomorrow. Mooring $18/night, no reciprocals.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Lay day in Ft. Bragg. Spoke with the transmission guys about the leak and withdrew about 250cc of transmission fluid … we’ll see. Spoke with PYI about the dripless packing gland and they were a great help. Gave me detailed, simple instruction on how to tighten it up. We walked to the marina “upstream” with even shallower water and narrower channel … just amazing. I’ve navigated tight marinas before; this one is right up there with the best of them, but to have another marina even farther upstream ... well … that was something new. We walked up to the local hotel and used the wi-fi; over to the market for supplies and then across the bridge into town. Julie finished sewing (with $7.50 sewing machine) the steering wheel cover and the bag for the life raft, so that can go outside. This marina is well used. Boats, mostly fishing, are literally stuffed in here. The piers (and slips) are old, wood, narrow and rickety. The dock fingers are only about 15’ long and it doesn’t matter what size boat (from 15’ skiffs to 50’ trawlers), they all tie up. Space between the aft end of one vessel and its opposite on the opposing pier is about 20 feet. But the skippers back down, then forward, then back, then forward … gently turning the boat on it’s axis until they’ve eeked out the smallest clearance on either side, then it’s full power and out they go to catch fish. Truly, one of the most elegant dances between man, machine, wind and waves, to be witnessed. The fishing boats are tough old gals … some maybe 50 or 75 years old. The vast majority are wood with only a few steel or fiberglass hulls. Oh they were lookers in their day to be sure, but now they’ve got some rust; their paint is cracked here and there; some of their timbers have shifted, the beams have warped and the caulking is exposed. Still, they carry their names proudly … Suzy G, Rae Ann, Ms. Kelly and Shooting Star, to name a few; they continue to do an honest days work. Every morning, just before dawn, they prod their old diesels to life and head out to sea for another day of fishing. They all cast a disapproving eye on Itchen though, …who was she to waltz into their harbor (in the middle of the night!) with her shiny hull and newly painted mast … that … that … little tart! Itchen didn’t mind though, she lay quietly in her berth, occasionally flashing her sheer stripe or showing a little too much sail, always tugging at her lines as if to coyly say, “c’mon sailor, let’s go have a good time?”
Saturday, August 16, 2007 – 0600 – Prepared to get under way for Bodega Bay. Jake called over with concern about the weather. We walked up to the CG station for the weather report, as our radio report only went as far south as Point Arena. Weather was good into San Francisco, but there was a gale warning off Point Piedras Blancas (well south of SF). By then it was about 0730, Bodega Bay was going to be about a 12-hour trip, we were still tired so we bagged it and hit the rack; we didn’t wake till 1400. We had dinner on Jake and Julie had a little birthday party for me. Quiet, lazy day.
Sunday, August 19, 2007 – 0600 – Depart Ft. Bragg for Bodega Bay (with the fishing fleet). Clear skies, calm seas, swells NW 1-3 feet. Motored all the way to Bodega Bay with (with Jake).
1900 – Arrived Bodega Bay, overcast, but calm. Bodega Bay is a fairly new harbor; with a well marked channel and 24/7 operation. Motored at 1800 RPM all day; transmission still leaking, so I took out another 100cc of transmission fluid (dipstick is impossible to read accurately – it’s become intolerable and I need to so something about it). Moorage $22.50/night, no reciprocals.
Monday, August 20, 2007 – 0730 – Depart Bodega Bay for San Francisco. Jake called and was having trouble with the starter, but before we could get over there, the starter had clicked in and the engine was running. Foggy and calm. Midway out of the channel, our engine overheated, again; back to port. Jake stood-by. No hoses were compromised, but the overflow bottle cap had popped off and was pouring out steam. It looked like another vapor lock. Jake mentioned the overflow bottle needed to be filled, so I filled it and sure enough it sucked all of that antifreeze into the cooling/exchange tank. I let the engine cool, popped the radiator cap and the tank was bone dry. I filled the tank with anti-freeze and ran the engine up to temperature with the cap off to let the air circulate out. While doing this, I read the bright yellow tag on the top of the overflow bottle. In Japanese it was very clearly printed “keep the coolant level between full and low when engine is cold.” I know this because in even bolder letters (just above the Japanese printing) it said the same thing in English! In Tillamook, I had failed to fill the reservoir after bleeding the engine, so on the trips from there to here, it had eventually run low. Julie scolded me for abusing the engine, she said “ Angen was pissed at you … she was spitting and you … you made her throw-up.” I have no excuses; I was sincere and contrite in my apology to the engine. … I’m uncomfortable with this incident now, and I want to move on …
0845 – Depart Bodega Bay (apparently forgiven), for the second time, for San Francisco. Still foggy but calm. Huge NW swells 8-10 feet, motoring. 1200 – fog cleared and warmed up quickly. 1400 – NW wind coming up so we raised the main and headsail. We rounded Pt. Reyes and made a straight course for the Bonita channel, avoiding the four-fathom bank. Running wing and wing, I notice the tack of headsail start to slide up the headstay. The wire holding the headsail to the chain plate at the bow had broken. I secured the tack with a piece of line and we kept on sailing. Wind rising (maybe 25-30 knots); we turn the boat into the wind to douse the headsail. The wind and the waves have really piped up now (all in a matter of 15 minutes). The boat shudders in the face of building seas and wind. I go forward to capture the headsail; lying on the sail to secure it at the bow of the boat, my face, at times, is only inches from the water as the boat reaches headlong into the oncoming seas. Julie is holding the boat steady and at 1500 RPM, we’re making one to two knots into the waves. Headsail secured, we spin the boat around and head for the Bonita channel. Wind still building, so we put a single reef in the main and she seems to settle down. We squirt through the Bonita Channel at 8.5 knots, round Pt. Bonita and there it is … the Golden Gate Bridge. I’ve been to San Francisco numerous times … I was even stationed at Treasure Island … but this is, by far away, the most exhilarating way to enter this city. On the Pacific side of the bridge, we had no vessel traffic the entire way in; we had the entire channel to ourselves. Carrying on like schoolgirls we …ooh … and …ahh…; snapping pictures and congratulating ourselves on our worldly accomplishment. We pass under the GG Bridge and watch as the windsurfers dart like gnats all around us. We round up, drop the main and motor into the city marina, just down from the St. Francis yacht club.
1730 – Dock at city marina, $22.50/night and no reciprocals. We have come 1000 nautical miles in 27 days; stopped in 14 ports; used 103 gallons of fuel; 250 gallons of water; changed the engine oil and the anti-freeze twice (my bad); we’ve put 156 hours on the engine; the chart plotter, GPS, autopilot and wind vane have worked flawlessly and tirelessly. We’ve sailed in the sun, wind, rain, fog, dark, skinny water and narrow channels; entered strange and arguably difficult harbors and spent $1000.00 in our first month at sea. Next stop – Half Moon Bay and onto the glitzy harbors of sunny Southern California.
Lay day in Eureka, CA. Nice town with friendly people. Went to the movie (Bourne Ultimatum), Costco and a thrift store. Did laundry and took showers (for free). Filled with fuel 39.8 gallons (fuel consumption 0.9 gallons/hour) so I’ll go back to 1800 RPM and see if that saves me a little diesel. Filled the starboard water tank. It looks like we use about 50 gallons/4 days, which equals 12.5 gallons/day). The cruising books say most boats use about 6 gallons/day and twice that with electric pumps (looks like they were right).
Thursday, August 16, 2007 – 0615-
Depart Eureka (Humboldt Bay) for Ft. Bragg, CA; it’ll be a long trip. Overcast, seas calm with swells 1-3 feet out of the NW. 1100 – skies cleared as we rounded Cape Mendocino (at last out of the NW weather). Down to shorts and a t-shirt by noon from long johns, fleece and foul weather gear, which we had been wearing all the way down the coast. Not much happening … on Julie’s watch she spotted a tug and a tow on the horizon, which passed us by late afternoon. 1400 - Caught a NW breeze, so I raised the main and jib, but it didn’t help much. Dusk came and we were still about 30 miles out … only able to do about 6 knots. Clear, starry night. Looking up, I imagined I could see the bottom of a hull passing overhead. I judged the LOA to be about 34 light years and the beam about 13. It looked like a trawler and he seemed to be moving a little faster than us.
2330 – Dock at Ft. Bragg … what an entrance; narrow, shallow and twisty. Just about the time we reached what we thought was the end, we could see more of the channel. Julie was on the bow giving direction, telling me go starboard, I couldn’t, as there were rocks. Someone flicked a cigarette into the channel and nearly hit the boat … Julie shouted, “for the love of God, will you please go starboard.” Starboard I went … but not by very damn much! The channel (actually more like a creek) wasn’t narrow enough, so the fishing boats rafted off two and three deep of each other. Got into a slip though, tied off and hit the rack. The dripless packing gland is dripping and the transmission is leaking fluid. I’ll need to investigate tomorrow. Mooring $18/night, no reciprocals.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Lay day in Ft. Bragg. Spoke with the transmission guys about the leak and withdrew about 250cc of transmission fluid … we’ll see. Spoke with PYI about the dripless packing gland and they were a great help. Gave me detailed, simple instruction on how to tighten it up. We walked to the marina “upstream” with even shallower water and narrower channel … just amazing. I’ve navigated tight marinas before; this one is right up there with the best of them, but to have another marina even farther upstream ... well … that was something new. We walked up to the local hotel and used the wi-fi; over to the market for supplies and then across the bridge into town. Julie finished sewing (with $7.50 sewing machine) the steering wheel cover and the bag for the life raft, so that can go outside. This marina is well used. Boats, mostly fishing, are literally stuffed in here. The piers (and slips) are old, wood, narrow and rickety. The dock fingers are only about 15’ long and it doesn’t matter what size boat (from 15’ skiffs to 50’ trawlers), they all tie up. Space between the aft end of one vessel and its opposite on the opposing pier is about 20 feet. But the skippers back down, then forward, then back, then forward … gently turning the boat on it’s axis until they’ve eeked out the smallest clearance on either side, then it’s full power and out they go to catch fish. Truly, one of the most elegant dances between man, machine, wind and waves, to be witnessed. The fishing boats are tough old gals … some maybe 50 or 75 years old. The vast majority are wood with only a few steel or fiberglass hulls. Oh they were lookers in their day to be sure, but now they’ve got some rust; their paint is cracked here and there; some of their timbers have shifted, the beams have warped and the caulking is exposed. Still, they carry their names proudly … Suzy G, Rae Ann, Ms. Kelly and Shooting Star, to name a few; they continue to do an honest days work. Every morning, just before dawn, they prod their old diesels to life and head out to sea for another day of fishing. They all cast a disapproving eye on Itchen though, …who was she to waltz into their harbor (in the middle of the night!) with her shiny hull and newly painted mast … that … that … little tart! Itchen didn’t mind though, she lay quietly in her berth, occasionally flashing her sheer stripe or showing a little too much sail, always tugging at her lines as if to coyly say, “c’mon sailor, let’s go have a good time?”
Saturday, August 16, 2007 – 0600 – Prepared to get under way for Bodega Bay. Jake called over with concern about the weather. We walked up to the CG station for the weather report, as our radio report only went as far south as Point Arena. Weather was good into San Francisco, but there was a gale warning off Point Piedras Blancas (well south of SF). By then it was about 0730, Bodega Bay was going to be about a 12-hour trip, we were still tired so we bagged it and hit the rack; we didn’t wake till 1400. We had dinner on Jake and Julie had a little birthday party for me. Quiet, lazy day.
Sunday, August 19, 2007 – 0600 – Depart Ft. Bragg for Bodega Bay (with the fishing fleet). Clear skies, calm seas, swells NW 1-3 feet. Motored all the way to Bodega Bay with (with Jake).
1900 – Arrived Bodega Bay, overcast, but calm. Bodega Bay is a fairly new harbor; with a well marked channel and 24/7 operation. Motored at 1800 RPM all day; transmission still leaking, so I took out another 100cc of transmission fluid (dipstick is impossible to read accurately – it’s become intolerable and I need to so something about it). Moorage $22.50/night, no reciprocals.
Monday, August 20, 2007 – 0730 – Depart Bodega Bay for San Francisco. Jake called and was having trouble with the starter, but before we could get over there, the starter had clicked in and the engine was running. Foggy and calm. Midway out of the channel, our engine overheated, again; back to port. Jake stood-by. No hoses were compromised, but the overflow bottle cap had popped off and was pouring out steam. It looked like another vapor lock. Jake mentioned the overflow bottle needed to be filled, so I filled it and sure enough it sucked all of that antifreeze into the cooling/exchange tank. I let the engine cool, popped the radiator cap and the tank was bone dry. I filled the tank with anti-freeze and ran the engine up to temperature with the cap off to let the air circulate out. While doing this, I read the bright yellow tag on the top of the overflow bottle. In Japanese it was very clearly printed “keep the coolant level between full and low when engine is cold.” I know this because in even bolder letters (just above the Japanese printing) it said the same thing in English! In Tillamook, I had failed to fill the reservoir after bleeding the engine, so on the trips from there to here, it had eventually run low. Julie scolded me for abusing the engine, she said “ Angen was pissed at you … she was spitting and you … you made her throw-up.” I have no excuses; I was sincere and contrite in my apology to the engine. … I’m uncomfortable with this incident now, and I want to move on …
0845 – Depart Bodega Bay (apparently forgiven), for the second time, for San Francisco. Still foggy but calm. Huge NW swells 8-10 feet, motoring. 1200 – fog cleared and warmed up quickly. 1400 – NW wind coming up so we raised the main and headsail. We rounded Pt. Reyes and made a straight course for the Bonita channel, avoiding the four-fathom bank. Running wing and wing, I notice the tack of headsail start to slide up the headstay. The wire holding the headsail to the chain plate at the bow had broken. I secured the tack with a piece of line and we kept on sailing. Wind rising (maybe 25-30 knots); we turn the boat into the wind to douse the headsail. The wind and the waves have really piped up now (all in a matter of 15 minutes). The boat shudders in the face of building seas and wind. I go forward to capture the headsail; lying on the sail to secure it at the bow of the boat, my face, at times, is only inches from the water as the boat reaches headlong into the oncoming seas. Julie is holding the boat steady and at 1500 RPM, we’re making one to two knots into the waves. Headsail secured, we spin the boat around and head for the Bonita channel. Wind still building, so we put a single reef in the main and she seems to settle down. We squirt through the Bonita Channel at 8.5 knots, round Pt. Bonita and there it is … the Golden Gate Bridge. I’ve been to San Francisco numerous times … I was even stationed at Treasure Island … but this is, by far away, the most exhilarating way to enter this city. On the Pacific side of the bridge, we had no vessel traffic the entire way in; we had the entire channel to ourselves. Carrying on like schoolgirls we …ooh … and …ahh…; snapping pictures and congratulating ourselves on our worldly accomplishment. We pass under the GG Bridge and watch as the windsurfers dart like gnats all around us. We round up, drop the main and motor into the city marina, just down from the St. Francis yacht club.
1730 – Dock at city marina, $22.50/night and no reciprocals. We have come 1000 nautical miles in 27 days; stopped in 14 ports; used 103 gallons of fuel; 250 gallons of water; changed the engine oil and the anti-freeze twice (my bad); we’ve put 156 hours on the engine; the chart plotter, GPS, autopilot and wind vane have worked flawlessly and tirelessly. We’ve sailed in the sun, wind, rain, fog, dark, skinny water and narrow channels; entered strange and arguably difficult harbors and spent $1000.00 in our first month at sea. Next stop – Half Moon Bay and onto the glitzy harbors of sunny Southern California.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Itchen log Aug 6-14,2007
Monday, August 6, 2007 –0800- Depart Tillamook for Newport. Blew an engine cooling hose midway out the channel. Quickly repaired the broken connection and continued on our way. At the channel entrance, the cooling system overflow blew and steam was just pouring out. We decided to return to port. When I did the underway repair of the cooling hose I didn’t bleed the lines, so I developed a vapor lock, which caused the second episode of overheating. In port, I hose clamped and bled the lines and refilled the cooling system. All was now in order. Tim called about 1000, so there was a reason we were not to go out that day, after all. Spent the rest on the day on R&R tucked into the lush evergreen and mist covered mountains of Garibaldi.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007 – 0815 – Depart Tillamook (time 2), heavy fog and 4-8 foot swells. Winds out of the SW at 5 knots. Set course for Yaquina Head (Newport, OR). Averaged 5-7 knots. Julie took 25mg of Meclazine (Bonine) and she was OUT! Not seasick though.
1910 – Arrived Newport, clear skies, calm seas- beautiful open harbor with a wide channel- 57 miles made good. Folks very friendly – “Mark” a local we met walking on the dock provided us his key card for the showers. On the way to the showers we met another couple, who told about local transportation and also offered us their key card. The friendliest town we’ve been in yet. Anchor locker still leaking, though much less.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007 – Laid over in Newport, OR. Rainey and cold this morning. Able to finally use reciprocals (no charge and we stayed two nights). Beautiful marina with excellent facilities. 0900 - Called a cab for a ride into town. Down to Wal-Mart for shopping. Walked back by way of Safeway, Thriftway, a music store, and a couple of thrift stores. Wandered into the old seaport part of Newport (touristy section) and got an ice cream. We went to catch a free shuttle back to the harbor, but the driver was going to lunch – we could go with him or wait an hour for his return. We chose to wait and witnessed an arrest by local constabulary, while listening to a street violinist. Our shuttle driver returned at the appointed time and took Julie back to the boat. He dropped me at the local marine store and came back an hour later to pick me up. Of course, this time was his break. He was a retired guy driving the free shuttle part time and a very affable character. He had moved up to Newport from Southern California in the mid 70’s; tried his hand at fishing for a couple of years and went broke. He then signed on the State transportation department and retired with them after 26 years. I finally arrived at the marina about 1730 after a fairly thorough bus ride of Newport. Applied Epoxy I bought at the Englunds marine store to seal the Anchor locker leak. If this doesn’t work, I’ll pack that thing so full of fiberglass … nothing short of a nuclear blast will penetrate it!
Thursday, August 9, 2007 – 0710 – Depart Newport after filling up with 37 gallons of diesel ($106) – looks like I’m burning about ¾ gallon/hour running at about 1800 RPM. The max RPM is 2600 and a diesel is supposed to be run at about 75-80% on max, which would be between 1950 and 2080 RPM. I’ll run at 200 RPM this tank and see if it makes a difference. The tank holds 44 gallons, but the gauge said it was empty. I don’t think the gauge goes all the way to the bottom of the tank, which is probably just as well (I probably shouldn’t depend on the gauge anyway, but it gives me redundancy). Clear skies, seas 4-5 foot NW swells. Motored most of the way, but about noon tried some sailing. Wind was too close on the nose for a good bearing, so we bagged it and motored on as we had a long passage to make.
1930 - Enter Coos Bay. 84 miles made good. Docked at Charleston (18 miles downriver from Coos Bay and right at the channel entrance); shallow harbor, but adequate space to tie off. No reciprocals, but only $13/night. Met our fellow Baja’ers from Tillamook and met a third set of Baja-ers. A couple (Hunter 45) that have lived aboard for 20 years and both just recently retired on their way to do the Baja … and points beyond. Both the Waquiz and the Hunter are more spacious than ours, but I wouldn’t trade ‘em. Like life, all boats are a compromise - find the one that fits best with you.
Friday and Saturday, August 10-11, 2007 – Lay days in Charleston. Walked into town – what there was of it; two general stores, a Laundromat and several gift shops. Julie bought fresh blueberries by the cup and I bought a fifth of Gin. We did laundry and found free wi-fi (Starbucks has nothing on Laundromats when it comes to wi-fi). We went to a local marine store, (Englunds) and I read in a NOAA publication there that La Push could only be entered by skiff; oh well. I updated our web site, caulked half the toe rail on the starboard side and Julie started on the steering wheel cover. NO anchor locker leakage. I may fiberglass/epoxy it anyway, just on account o’. Since Westport, all of the ports have been major fishing towns. Not only charter, but commercial fishing. They all have had multiple canning and processing plants (can ya smell it now?). I think Charleston is the home of “Charlie the Tuna.” (I failed to ask, but we did see his bust and sculptures all over the place). The guest dock is also the fishing pier. From early in the morning (6’sih) till late ate night (11’ish) folks are on the dock crabbing or fishing (old, young, infirmed, tourist, male and female). Hour after hour you can see them throw their crab pots in, haul ‘em out and throw them in again … hope springs eternal and they are happy as clams quite intent on getting their catch. I can’t begin to describe the type of boats being used for fishing. Everything from the huge commercial fishing vessels to 18’ speedboats retrofitted with home made cabins, stabilizers and fishing gear. Imagine an 18’ ski boat with 25 foot steel stabilizers port and starboard amidships and a trawl reel bolted where an otherwise 24 year old in a bikini would sit. It really has to be seen. The boats are made of wood glass, steel, aluminum and cement and any combination thereof). The names and hailing ports are all painted on by hand, as are the hulls hand painted with whatever color … colors … are available. These are working boats, not showboats, and they mean business. They really are a colorful assortment, salty to the core with crews equally as … salty. All the people that we encountered, were as friendly and helpful as anyone you would find anywhere. Charleston is ultimately, absolutely a charming seaport town. I filled the port tank with water and we crawled into the v-berth with the crabbers still intently going about their tasks. God bless them all.
Sunday, August 12, 2007 – 0635 – Depart Charleston at low tide with the ebb. Skies clear, seas calm with swells NW at 1-3 feet. Course due south for Crescent City, CA (115 miles). Julie tried a new herbal seasick ointment and it seems to be working. 0800 hailed Cok Chubuk about 3 miles off our stern, just west of Cape Arago. 1100 – Scot Free hailed us and asked if we could see him on our radar; the fog was starting to set in. 1300 – 3nm off Cape Blanco, Cok Chubuk hails the CG with a emergency. He is taking on water. We reverse course, notify the CG and are requested to assist. The fog is thick with maybe 500 yards visibility. I can’t understand Cok Chubuks coordinates (over the VHF) but I go on my last visual sighting of him, estimate his position and the radar blip. The CG advises Cok Chubuk to return to Charleston. They launch a helicopter and a 40’ rescue boat. Over the next hour Cok Chubuk is able to drain the bilge and finds no water coming in. He thinks a water tank may have ruptured (he filled in Charleston). We are still unable to find him and with all the chatter on the radio between the CG and Cok Chubuk I thought it inappropriate to interrupt. We arrive at what I thought was Cok Chubuks position only to find a fishing boat slowly trawling along; the skipper on the fantail bringing in his lines. Visibility is now 200 yards or less and we were nearly on top of the trawler before we saw him (he surely never saw us). The CG helicopter arrives at Cok Chubuk position, but they are unable to visually locate each other. The helo flies overhead and then along the starboard side before they finally make visual contact. The CG notifies me of Cok Chubuks current position; I mark it on the chartplotter and find we are about 10nm (1 ½ hours) south of him. The crises has passed, Cok Chubuk is headed back to Charleston, The CG rescue boat is within about 30 minutes of him and the CG helicopter is standing-by overhead. I request and receive permission to be relieved and resume my course. 1700 - Fog beginning to clear and we have some sunshine. 22miles off Brookings, OR and 37nm from out destination of Crescent City, CA. 2030 – Course now due east for Brookings a narrow shallow port with big rocks all around it. Sunset now and thick fog rolling in; visibility 100’ or less; winds calm; seas calm; 1-3 feet swells from the NW (“… you have just entered the Twilight Zone”). 2100 – We approach the outer channel buoy, a bright white light, dead on (thanks to the chart plotter). I round the buoy on the south side and make my course for the red buoy. Visibility is zip! I move ahead dead slow and with extreme caution. I approach the red buoy (dead on again). A few blind minutes later we see the green channel marker entrance and the fog begins to clear; we could see the harbor lights; our depth was 9’ (Itchen draws 5’). 2145- Mid channel Brookings, the CG hails us requesting vessel information, hailing port, destination and had we ever been boarded by the CG (they could’ve picked a better time to chat).
2200 - docked safely at Brooking along the fishing peer. Moorage $18/no reciprocals. A helluva day at sea.
Monday, August 13, 2007 – 1115 – Depart Brookings; a decidedly unfriendly town. We could find nothing of interest there; Crescent City is a short hop away so we head south. Clear, sunny skies and calm seas. Motored around Seal Rock light house and headed ESE toward Crescent City, CA. Crossed the line into CA about 1300. I think we’re out of the NW, but probably not till Cape Mendocino. Lots of sea life activity; whales breaching, seals peaking up through the water and birds of all sorts. Pelicans are very regal (even if they look like pterodactyls or whatever those flying dinosaurs were). Pelicans fly in a very tight formation often only inches above the water. They remind me of me stuffy bankers going to a board meeting; all business; no looking left or right; they rise or turn only to avoid and inconvenient obstacle and then back to the deck; the formation never changing in relative position to each other. They flap their wings once or twice and then glide effortlessly for the next 20 or 30 seconds. Single pelicans fly in much the same manner (just off the deck) but rising only to plunge, head long, into the water with a great splash. Ducks and Geese seem to land in sort of a controlled crash; feet in front of them, wings spread wide landing at full speed; splash, bump and they’re in. Seagull’s dip in … very gently seemingly forgetting why they landed, then just as quickly, they ascend as gently out of the water as they took to it. Quite elegant really, if it weren’t for the incessant squawking, total lack of formations or organization of any sort, and random, jerky flight patterns either dodging each other or over flying an intended target. Finally, there are these little white-bellied birds … small birds. They seem to be the most plentiful. They have a devil of a time getting off the water. As the boat approaches they swim furiously to get of the way throwing a disgusted look over one wing or another at the gaudy, rude intruder. Those that don’t plan their escape appropriately spread their little wings, flapping mightily, beating what little air they can engulf into submission. This just barely gets their bellies off the water and with their feet and wings moving in unison they give the appearance of running across the water. Not quite able to generate quite enough lift to get airborne. There are no smug looks from these fellows – they are just fleeing for their lives.
1500 - Just off Crescent City harbor entrance and the CG cutter is out patrolling. A CG RIB pulls up alongside and requests us to throttle back. I comply and they ask if we’ve ever been boarded by the CG. We say “no” and POP, just like that our virginity is gone. Two petty officers board us while two remain in the RIB. They request our identification, boat documentation and do a preliminary safety inspection (two fire extinguishers; day and night flares; throwable life cushion and CG approved life jackets) while one of the RIB petty officers enters our identifying information into his palm pilot. The boarding was done very politely and professionally, even if the RIB driver kept ramming the boat at one point almost taking off my windvane). The whole thing took about 30 minutes.
1530 – docked at Crescent City harbor. The channel is very shallow and twisty (at one point, I had 0.0 feet below the keel) and the marina is kind of ram shackled. A local live aboard told me “… the harbor was hit by tsunami last November, that caused a 6 foot swell, which took out all the docks.” We walked into town for supplies and found a thrift store on the way. Supped a McDonalds and marketed at Grocery Outlet. No reciprocals; moorage $17/night. Harbor Security (Jack) was very congenial though; around 2200 he opened the shower (which was free) and gave us a ride up there. Julie went to the local hotel and used(hacked) their wi-fi.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007 – Depart Crescent City in very skinny water; foggy, seas calm, swells 1-3’ NW. Course 180 degrees for Eureka, CA (Humboldt Bay). Remained foggy/overcast the entire trip. Surprising little activity on the ocean today; spotted less than five boats and no sea life with the exception of the birds. It was a lonely ride.
1725 – enter Humboldt Channel entrance against an ebb tide; well marked, wide and very long. A local at Crescent City (who had lived in Eureka) told us about the two marinas here. “The City Marina was newer (built in 2000), gated but in a rougher part of town. The people were very friendly though and would most likely provide you with an extra gate key should you arrive after hours. Woodly Island Marina (the other marina), farther up the channel, is old and rickety.”
1825 – Docked at City Marina. After an hour of motoring up the channel, in a thick fog, we rounded the corner into City Marina. The first finger of docks we pulled into didn’t have a large enough slip for us, but as we were told, a couple of locals were there to help; a lady (Connie) told us where to find a spot and a fellow (Tracy) came over to help tie us off. After tying off, Connie returned to her boat and provided us with a key for the gate and transient facilities (head, showers, laundry). A little later, walking up the dock into town, another lady (Kathleen the SO of Tracy) asked if we wanted a ride into town. We declined, as we needed to stretch our legs. She gave us the general layout some simple directions and one final “… are you sure you don’t need a ride? I’m going up to get pizza.” The City dock is not in a “bad part of town.” The streets are improved and well lit. It is industrial with pulp mills and canaries, but within about ¾ mile we had found several fast food and upscale restaurants, a cinema, post office, Costco and two grocery stores. We returned to the boat after about two hours of walking around and found we had free wi-fi, to boot. No wonder they call this town – Eureka!
Last week, Julie put us on a list as needing additional crew for the Baja, without telling me. So far we’ve had about seven inquires; a couple our age from WI; a 30-ish couple from the Bay area; four single guys who left voice mails and a single gal who has her boat down in Mexico and has been working on the Victoria fast ferry out of Seattle. We’ll need to sort through them quickly, as I can’t handle all of the messages. It’s midnight, foggy, but calm. Julie is in the rack and I’m bushed. The barometer is 29 and holding and the National Weather Service synopsis forecast for Northern California waters from Pt. Saint George to Pt. Arena and 60 nm out is “… a nearly stationary upper low offshore of the Pacific NW will maintain light winds over the waters. As the upper low moves further in late in the week...surface high pressure SW of the area will briefly strengthen...bringing increasing north winds over the waters South of Cape Mendocino Friday into Saturday.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007 – 0815 – Depart Tillamook (time 2), heavy fog and 4-8 foot swells. Winds out of the SW at 5 knots. Set course for Yaquina Head (Newport, OR). Averaged 5-7 knots. Julie took 25mg of Meclazine (Bonine) and she was OUT! Not seasick though.
1910 – Arrived Newport, clear skies, calm seas- beautiful open harbor with a wide channel- 57 miles made good. Folks very friendly – “Mark” a local we met walking on the dock provided us his key card for the showers. On the way to the showers we met another couple, who told about local transportation and also offered us their key card. The friendliest town we’ve been in yet. Anchor locker still leaking, though much less.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007 – Laid over in Newport, OR. Rainey and cold this morning. Able to finally use reciprocals (no charge and we stayed two nights). Beautiful marina with excellent facilities. 0900 - Called a cab for a ride into town. Down to Wal-Mart for shopping. Walked back by way of Safeway, Thriftway, a music store, and a couple of thrift stores. Wandered into the old seaport part of Newport (touristy section) and got an ice cream. We went to catch a free shuttle back to the harbor, but the driver was going to lunch – we could go with him or wait an hour for his return. We chose to wait and witnessed an arrest by local constabulary, while listening to a street violinist. Our shuttle driver returned at the appointed time and took Julie back to the boat. He dropped me at the local marine store and came back an hour later to pick me up. Of course, this time was his break. He was a retired guy driving the free shuttle part time and a very affable character. He had moved up to Newport from Southern California in the mid 70’s; tried his hand at fishing for a couple of years and went broke. He then signed on the State transportation department and retired with them after 26 years. I finally arrived at the marina about 1730 after a fairly thorough bus ride of Newport. Applied Epoxy I bought at the Englunds marine store to seal the Anchor locker leak. If this doesn’t work, I’ll pack that thing so full of fiberglass … nothing short of a nuclear blast will penetrate it!
Thursday, August 9, 2007 – 0710 – Depart Newport after filling up with 37 gallons of diesel ($106) – looks like I’m burning about ¾ gallon/hour running at about 1800 RPM. The max RPM is 2600 and a diesel is supposed to be run at about 75-80% on max, which would be between 1950 and 2080 RPM. I’ll run at 200 RPM this tank and see if it makes a difference. The tank holds 44 gallons, but the gauge said it was empty. I don’t think the gauge goes all the way to the bottom of the tank, which is probably just as well (I probably shouldn’t depend on the gauge anyway, but it gives me redundancy). Clear skies, seas 4-5 foot NW swells. Motored most of the way, but about noon tried some sailing. Wind was too close on the nose for a good bearing, so we bagged it and motored on as we had a long passage to make.
1930 - Enter Coos Bay. 84 miles made good. Docked at Charleston (18 miles downriver from Coos Bay and right at the channel entrance); shallow harbor, but adequate space to tie off. No reciprocals, but only $13/night. Met our fellow Baja’ers from Tillamook and met a third set of Baja-ers. A couple (Hunter 45) that have lived aboard for 20 years and both just recently retired on their way to do the Baja … and points beyond. Both the Waquiz and the Hunter are more spacious than ours, but I wouldn’t trade ‘em. Like life, all boats are a compromise - find the one that fits best with you.
Friday and Saturday, August 10-11, 2007 – Lay days in Charleston. Walked into town – what there was of it; two general stores, a Laundromat and several gift shops. Julie bought fresh blueberries by the cup and I bought a fifth of Gin. We did laundry and found free wi-fi (Starbucks has nothing on Laundromats when it comes to wi-fi). We went to a local marine store, (Englunds) and I read in a NOAA publication there that La Push could only be entered by skiff; oh well. I updated our web site, caulked half the toe rail on the starboard side and Julie started on the steering wheel cover. NO anchor locker leakage. I may fiberglass/epoxy it anyway, just on account o’. Since Westport, all of the ports have been major fishing towns. Not only charter, but commercial fishing. They all have had multiple canning and processing plants (can ya smell it now?). I think Charleston is the home of “Charlie the Tuna.” (I failed to ask, but we did see his bust and sculptures all over the place). The guest dock is also the fishing pier. From early in the morning (6’sih) till late ate night (11’ish) folks are on the dock crabbing or fishing (old, young, infirmed, tourist, male and female). Hour after hour you can see them throw their crab pots in, haul ‘em out and throw them in again … hope springs eternal and they are happy as clams quite intent on getting their catch. I can’t begin to describe the type of boats being used for fishing. Everything from the huge commercial fishing vessels to 18’ speedboats retrofitted with home made cabins, stabilizers and fishing gear. Imagine an 18’ ski boat with 25 foot steel stabilizers port and starboard amidships and a trawl reel bolted where an otherwise 24 year old in a bikini would sit. It really has to be seen. The boats are made of wood glass, steel, aluminum and cement and any combination thereof). The names and hailing ports are all painted on by hand, as are the hulls hand painted with whatever color … colors … are available. These are working boats, not showboats, and they mean business. They really are a colorful assortment, salty to the core with crews equally as … salty. All the people that we encountered, were as friendly and helpful as anyone you would find anywhere. Charleston is ultimately, absolutely a charming seaport town. I filled the port tank with water and we crawled into the v-berth with the crabbers still intently going about their tasks. God bless them all.
Sunday, August 12, 2007 – 0635 – Depart Charleston at low tide with the ebb. Skies clear, seas calm with swells NW at 1-3 feet. Course due south for Crescent City, CA (115 miles). Julie tried a new herbal seasick ointment and it seems to be working. 0800 hailed Cok Chubuk about 3 miles off our stern, just west of Cape Arago. 1100 – Scot Free hailed us and asked if we could see him on our radar; the fog was starting to set in. 1300 – 3nm off Cape Blanco, Cok Chubuk hails the CG with a emergency. He is taking on water. We reverse course, notify the CG and are requested to assist. The fog is thick with maybe 500 yards visibility. I can’t understand Cok Chubuks coordinates (over the VHF) but I go on my last visual sighting of him, estimate his position and the radar blip. The CG advises Cok Chubuk to return to Charleston. They launch a helicopter and a 40’ rescue boat. Over the next hour Cok Chubuk is able to drain the bilge and finds no water coming in. He thinks a water tank may have ruptured (he filled in Charleston). We are still unable to find him and with all the chatter on the radio between the CG and Cok Chubuk I thought it inappropriate to interrupt. We arrive at what I thought was Cok Chubuks position only to find a fishing boat slowly trawling along; the skipper on the fantail bringing in his lines. Visibility is now 200 yards or less and we were nearly on top of the trawler before we saw him (he surely never saw us). The CG helicopter arrives at Cok Chubuk position, but they are unable to visually locate each other. The helo flies overhead and then along the starboard side before they finally make visual contact. The CG notifies me of Cok Chubuks current position; I mark it on the chartplotter and find we are about 10nm (1 ½ hours) south of him. The crises has passed, Cok Chubuk is headed back to Charleston, The CG rescue boat is within about 30 minutes of him and the CG helicopter is standing-by overhead. I request and receive permission to be relieved and resume my course. 1700 - Fog beginning to clear and we have some sunshine. 22miles off Brookings, OR and 37nm from out destination of Crescent City, CA. 2030 – Course now due east for Brookings a narrow shallow port with big rocks all around it. Sunset now and thick fog rolling in; visibility 100’ or less; winds calm; seas calm; 1-3 feet swells from the NW (“… you have just entered the Twilight Zone”). 2100 – We approach the outer channel buoy, a bright white light, dead on (thanks to the chart plotter). I round the buoy on the south side and make my course for the red buoy. Visibility is zip! I move ahead dead slow and with extreme caution. I approach the red buoy (dead on again). A few blind minutes later we see the green channel marker entrance and the fog begins to clear; we could see the harbor lights; our depth was 9’ (Itchen draws 5’). 2145- Mid channel Brookings, the CG hails us requesting vessel information, hailing port, destination and had we ever been boarded by the CG (they could’ve picked a better time to chat).
2200 - docked safely at Brooking along the fishing peer. Moorage $18/no reciprocals. A helluva day at sea.
Monday, August 13, 2007 – 1115 – Depart Brookings; a decidedly unfriendly town. We could find nothing of interest there; Crescent City is a short hop away so we head south. Clear, sunny skies and calm seas. Motored around Seal Rock light house and headed ESE toward Crescent City, CA. Crossed the line into CA about 1300. I think we’re out of the NW, but probably not till Cape Mendocino. Lots of sea life activity; whales breaching, seals peaking up through the water and birds of all sorts. Pelicans are very regal (even if they look like pterodactyls or whatever those flying dinosaurs were). Pelicans fly in a very tight formation often only inches above the water. They remind me of me stuffy bankers going to a board meeting; all business; no looking left or right; they rise or turn only to avoid and inconvenient obstacle and then back to the deck; the formation never changing in relative position to each other. They flap their wings once or twice and then glide effortlessly for the next 20 or 30 seconds. Single pelicans fly in much the same manner (just off the deck) but rising only to plunge, head long, into the water with a great splash. Ducks and Geese seem to land in sort of a controlled crash; feet in front of them, wings spread wide landing at full speed; splash, bump and they’re in. Seagull’s dip in … very gently seemingly forgetting why they landed, then just as quickly, they ascend as gently out of the water as they took to it. Quite elegant really, if it weren’t for the incessant squawking, total lack of formations or organization of any sort, and random, jerky flight patterns either dodging each other or over flying an intended target. Finally, there are these little white-bellied birds … small birds. They seem to be the most plentiful. They have a devil of a time getting off the water. As the boat approaches they swim furiously to get of the way throwing a disgusted look over one wing or another at the gaudy, rude intruder. Those that don’t plan their escape appropriately spread their little wings, flapping mightily, beating what little air they can engulf into submission. This just barely gets their bellies off the water and with their feet and wings moving in unison they give the appearance of running across the water. Not quite able to generate quite enough lift to get airborne. There are no smug looks from these fellows – they are just fleeing for their lives.
1500 - Just off Crescent City harbor entrance and the CG cutter is out patrolling. A CG RIB pulls up alongside and requests us to throttle back. I comply and they ask if we’ve ever been boarded by the CG. We say “no” and POP, just like that our virginity is gone. Two petty officers board us while two remain in the RIB. They request our identification, boat documentation and do a preliminary safety inspection (two fire extinguishers; day and night flares; throwable life cushion and CG approved life jackets) while one of the RIB petty officers enters our identifying information into his palm pilot. The boarding was done very politely and professionally, even if the RIB driver kept ramming the boat at one point almost taking off my windvane). The whole thing took about 30 minutes.
1530 – docked at Crescent City harbor. The channel is very shallow and twisty (at one point, I had 0.0 feet below the keel) and the marina is kind of ram shackled. A local live aboard told me “… the harbor was hit by tsunami last November, that caused a 6 foot swell, which took out all the docks.” We walked into town for supplies and found a thrift store on the way. Supped a McDonalds and marketed at Grocery Outlet. No reciprocals; moorage $17/night. Harbor Security (Jack) was very congenial though; around 2200 he opened the shower (which was free) and gave us a ride up there. Julie went to the local hotel and used(hacked) their wi-fi.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007 – Depart Crescent City in very skinny water; foggy, seas calm, swells 1-3’ NW. Course 180 degrees for Eureka, CA (Humboldt Bay). Remained foggy/overcast the entire trip. Surprising little activity on the ocean today; spotted less than five boats and no sea life with the exception of the birds. It was a lonely ride.
1725 – enter Humboldt Channel entrance against an ebb tide; well marked, wide and very long. A local at Crescent City (who had lived in Eureka) told us about the two marinas here. “The City Marina was newer (built in 2000), gated but in a rougher part of town. The people were very friendly though and would most likely provide you with an extra gate key should you arrive after hours. Woodly Island Marina (the other marina), farther up the channel, is old and rickety.”
1825 – Docked at City Marina. After an hour of motoring up the channel, in a thick fog, we rounded the corner into City Marina. The first finger of docks we pulled into didn’t have a large enough slip for us, but as we were told, a couple of locals were there to help; a lady (Connie) told us where to find a spot and a fellow (Tracy) came over to help tie us off. After tying off, Connie returned to her boat and provided us with a key for the gate and transient facilities (head, showers, laundry). A little later, walking up the dock into town, another lady (Kathleen the SO of Tracy) asked if we wanted a ride into town. We declined, as we needed to stretch our legs. She gave us the general layout some simple directions and one final “… are you sure you don’t need a ride? I’m going up to get pizza.” The City dock is not in a “bad part of town.” The streets are improved and well lit. It is industrial with pulp mills and canaries, but within about ¾ mile we had found several fast food and upscale restaurants, a cinema, post office, Costco and two grocery stores. We returned to the boat after about two hours of walking around and found we had free wi-fi, to boot. No wonder they call this town – Eureka!
Last week, Julie put us on a list as needing additional crew for the Baja, without telling me. So far we’ve had about seven inquires; a couple our age from WI; a 30-ish couple from the Bay area; four single guys who left voice mails and a single gal who has her boat down in Mexico and has been working on the Victoria fast ferry out of Seattle. We’ll need to sort through them quickly, as I can’t handle all of the messages. It’s midnight, foggy, but calm. Julie is in the rack and I’m bushed. The barometer is 29 and holding and the National Weather Service synopsis forecast for Northern California waters from Pt. Saint George to Pt. Arena and 60 nm out is “… a nearly stationary upper low offshore of the Pacific NW will maintain light winds over the waters. As the upper low moves further in late in the week...surface high pressure SW of the area will briefly strengthen...bringing increasing north winds over the waters South of Cape Mendocino Friday into Saturday.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Itchen Log July 25 - Aug 5, 2007
The Log of Itchen –
How we got here is a story (or two) in itself;
Wednesday, July 25, 2007; 15:45 - We departed Tyee Marina, Commencement Bay, Tacoma, WA. It was a warm afternoon and the wind was out of the North. We headed for Seattle to say our final good-byes to Chuck and Shirley. As we cast off , Julie looked up and asked “Is this it?” “Yup” I said , “This is it.” With that she kissed the ground, hauled herself and the dock lines onto the boat, and we gently backed out of the slip that had been Itchen’s home for the past year and one-half. No one was there to see us off, so as we left the harbor I made a few extra toots on the airhorn (not expecting anyone to hear us). Julie noticed two heads pop up from the aft end of a trawler. She hollered back to me “there’s the boys.” I looked over and saw Steve and Glenn (my two shipwrights) who helped me rebuild Itchen. They supervised my every step and wouldn’t let me back off on the quality. They turned out to be not only trusted advisors, but good friends. After a quick spin around and a few final words, we slipped out of the entrance, with only those two warm, smiling faces bidding us adieu. It was just perfect.
Out of Commencement Bay and up East Passage we motored to Seattle. We were supposed to meet Chuck and Shirley that evening, but as usual we were late and didn’t get into Shilshoal till about 20:30. Chuck called a little after we tied and up and we made arrangements to meet the next day. First night out, we could not use our reciprocal moorage so it cost us $40.00 for the night. We went to bed tied securely to the quay at Shilshoal hearing nothing but the waves gently caressing the hull.
Thursday, July 26th, 2007 – Arose late and Chuck called about 11:00. They’d be down shortly and we could go out for lunch. We had some pretty good fish and chips and came back to the boat. While we chatted, I went up the mast to fix the radar reflector. It was really rotating and working the backstay. I removed the 5/16” u-bolts and secured it with plastic ties (we’ll see if it holds). Julie hauled me up and I got to wear my new climbing harness (it is so cool and I feel so secure with it, I have no fear of going up the mast). After coming down, I tightened the throttle handle on the steering. We chatted some more and they gave us some parting gifts (a new logbook, reading light and voyaging book of a trip down the west coast a sailor had taken in 2000). We’ve used them all, thanks guys. The time came for us shove off. After a few final pictures, begrudgingly, they cast us off and let us go. Admonishing us to “be careful … have a good time … be safe … remember to wear your life jackets … check your charts … watch the tides … stop … go … wait … bye … bye …bye. One last wave and we were around the corner … good parting is nothing if not sweet sorrow.
20:30 - Arrived Port Townsend. While coming into port there was a coast guard emergency. As we were entering the harbor a CG small boat was coming in at light speed behind us. I circled to give them clear passage and then entered the harbor. We tied up and went to find a slip. Helped ‘Bob” tie up his Catalina 36. No reciprocals again, but the price is dropping ($33.00 tonight). After locating a spot, we went to pull out. The wind was blowing us into the docks and I knew I’d have trouble. I tried backing out, but that wasn’t working … I knew right away as I bumped into Bobs boat (fiberglass makes quite a distinctive sound as it compresses and then snaps under the strain that 1800 RPM full astern will do). Bob, being the grand fellow he is, came down and helped us out and was able to save his boat in the bargain. He stood patiently, guardedly, on the dock telling me how to turn the boat around, without taking out any other boats. My boat turning angel was obviously on a break, but came hustling back (in the form of Bob). I was bale to get of that mess without filing any insurance claims and was even able to help Bob tie up as he pulled into the slip next to us. We invited him over for dinner and found out he was sailing alone (he did often) and he was headed up to the San Juan’s for a couple of weeks … or months. He had quit his job and didn’t plan to return to work until this last episode of “sail-about” has cleared. We went to bed to the sound of a pretty good breeze racing thought the spreaders.
Friday, July 27th, 2007; 11:55 - Arose about 0800 and Bob was gone (I wondered if my guardian angel was too)? Departed Port Townsend to calm, clear ski, light breeze and a flood tide. Only did 2-3 knots around Point Wilson. Off Discovery Bay, Julie got frisky and took her first run around the boat … naked … well, she had her life vest on. It was dead calm, so I joined her (for those of you that know me … I want that image to stay with you the rest of your lives!)
19:00 – Arrived Port Angeles. Wind picked up in the afternoon, maybe 15-20 knots … on the nose though. Pulled into the city dock (no reciprocals but quite a bargain at $10/night, no power though). Port Angeles had a party going on. They were celebrating Northwest Days (or something) and had multiple entertainers, a car show, artisan exhibits and a sand castle building contest (all were very ornate, detailed and huge). Julie was ready to go dancing. We walked through the exhibits and went up to the store for supplies. I needed to change the oil and I was pretty successful. My trouble came when I went to change the oil filter. Simple enough, right? I’ve changed it before (in fact I’ve changed hundreds of oil filters), but this time … this time, while changing the filter, I broke the oil sensor unit! $@#%$#%(&^$*$@&$#^*!!!!! (I think it’s because I ran around naked on the deck … and sinned). Who knew that little sensor was back there? My brand new anchor locker is leaking too. Oh well, jobs for tomorrow. Found a wi-fi site though. Bouncy night, but clear.
Saturday, July 28th, 2007. Called the mechanic in Tacoma and explained my dilemma. He told me to go to the local car parts store and use the sensor from a Toyota. I have a Yanmar diesel engine in my boat, not a Toyota gas engine. But after some research and a little help from the local auto parts store, we sorted it out. I installed it and it worked like a charm. Come to think of it, I’m not entirely sure the old sensor worked, but that doesn’t matter now, does it? We moved to the Port Angeles Yacht club; much more protected. Finally, we were able to use our reciprocals … sort of. We had to pay ($22/night) but we are to send in our receipts to PAYC and they will reimburse us … (we’ll see). Caulked up where I thought the leak was (around the toe rail, certainly not my finely crafted, heavily reinforced anchor locker). We did our laundry at a local hotel; Julie did it! She snuck in. We met our first Baja-er.
Sunday, July 29th, 2007 – Breakfast in uptown PA, across from the Goodwill. Not being able to pass up good shopping, we found a sewing machine for $7.50. It works better than the Pfaff 130 we bought off ebay, which we left behind because it wasn’t doing the job. We’re getting pretty used to walking. Fueled up (26.7 gallons) and filled the starboard water tank.
Tuesday, July 31th, 2007 – 0600- Departed PA in a heavy fog, cold and wet. 4-8 rollers lazily coming in with calm seas. Used my brand new radar. Headed for Neah Bay. 0800 went out on deck to whiz and noted a rapidly approaching powerboat. I thought I’d have time, but not wanting to be … interrupted, I paused and judgment being the better part of valor, waited. He was on me in a flash. It turned out to be a CG cutter. He pulled up right next to me. I thought we were about to be boarded, but he came over his loud speaker and instructed me to change course immediately, as I was operating in restricted waters. I did as he instructed, immediately, and looked at my chart plotter and saw I was outside the vessel traffic lanes. He spun around behind me and hung around until he was satisfied my intentions were clear and then he was gone. I scanned the horizon and with binoculars I saw a sub coming down the straights with what looked like tankers, fore and aft as escorts. Further back was another CG cutter bringing up the groups “six.” The skies cleared and we caught the outgoing tide and made 8-10 knots all the way to Neah Bay.
1300 - Arrive Neah Bay. V-Berth still leaking. Julie bought a fresh whole 15lb Tuna for $15.00. We split it with a couple from San Francisco, who were taking their boat {Evergreen} down from Friday Harbor. Dale, from Fish and Game, gutted and filet it for them (one filets a Tuna differently than a salmon). Julie marinated the Tuna in apple juice, wrapped it in bacon and fried it in lard. Yea … it was good. Duraglassed the anchor locker drain hole (we’ll see if this stops the leak).
Wednesday, August 1st, 2007.- 0605 – Depart Neah Bay, calm and sunny. We entered the Pacific Ocean at 0800. Heavy Fog and radar not working. It’s amazing the Pacific Ocean is 6,000 some odd miles across and extends from the North to the South Pole … lots of room. Out of the mist, 1000 yards off my port comes an old black and white hulled wooden fishing trawler. Very nicely aligned collision course. We watch each other, alter our courses respectively and slip silently past each other, each into our own pockets of fog. 1000 – raise the sails, winds out of the NE at 10-15 knots. Fiddled with the wind vane figuring out it’s idiosyncrasies. About 30 miles offshore, 4-8 foot swells, but doing about 8 knots SSW. 1400 changed course for La Push, due west. Crossed Evergreen and chatted on 68 for a few minutes. They are sailing on to San Francisco (crew of five aboard). Saw whales migrating north. Breeze freshens to 20-25 knots, wind vane working perfectly; still no radar. Navy probably jamming us as we were off restricted waters. We met a couple aboard “Invictus” in PA. He said his radar went out coming up from Astoria to Neah Bay, but was working again in PA.
1805 – Arrive La Push. Skinny water and narrow harbor entrance (no reciprocals, $22/night). Anchor locker still leaking. Determined leak is coming from near the port drain hole. I shoved a bunch of 5200 up there … we’ll see. La Push is and Indian Village and not many services available
Thursday, August 2st, 2007 – 0605 - Departed La Push; rally skinny water (at one point only 1.5 below the keel. In fact, we may have even bumped once or twice). Headed south about 13nm offshore. Following seas and winds, doing about 7-8 knots. Julie still seasick, but doing better.
1605 arrive Westport, Grays Harbor. No problem crossing the bar; very wide and well marked. Docked at the charter boat pier. No reciprocals, but only $13night. Anchor locker still leaking; smeared lifecaulk around the inside and coated the drain hole with lifecaulk … we’ll see. Stayed in Westport a few days. Not much of a town really, except for the charter boat tourism. Walked up to the grocery store and used the internet at the local library. Later we found a wi-fi site at the local laundry; used it and did our laundry as well. Found a pretty good marine store (Englunds Marine) and bought our fishing gear (tuna tackle – 65 ft of 200lb test line with a snubber that attaches to the stern rail, a luer with two huge hooks). Tried to rent a car to go to a shipmates promotion celebration, but none were available. Nice town, but not much going on. Filled starboard tank with water.
Sunday August 5th, 2007 – 0545 – Departed Grays Harbor … with the entire charter fleet. It looked like invasion forces … boats of all sizes, everywhere, screaming out to sea. Skies gray with 4-8ft swells. Learned for a local charter captain that the golden rule for the bars is never, ever go over the bar on an ebb tide (kind of the like Disney film where the characters say “… never go above the canopy.”) He gave us a chart that gave schedules for crossing the bars. It turns out it’s a combination of wind, swells and ebb current. Generally, if they are all low (below 3) the crossing will pretty smooth. Headed south now and crossed the Columbia Bar at noon. We went outside the bar but still the chop was significant (40 degree rolls). Saw a couple of sailboats coming out and passed one freighter going in. Calm seas after the bar. Motored all the way to Tillamook (Garibaldi).
1800 – arrived Tillamook. Another nice harbor with wide entrance. 25 ft of water beneath us. The Garmin chart plotter is great. Shows us exactly where the boat is in relation to the channel. Like flying with instruments only … I imagine. Even though the harbor is wide the channel is narrow (sounds kind of biblical doesn’t it). As we entered the channel and CG cutter came out and stood by in the shallows. I thought they were coming out to guide us in (they do that, you know) but after seeing we were navigating the channel correctly (or just noting my superior navigation skills) they poured the coals the engine and steamed on by (didn’t acknowledge us at all). Maybe they came out for another reason and just happen to stop in the shallows as part of the exercise they were conducting. Anyway, the CG is very active up here. The have been in every port we’ve stopped in and they’re presence is highly visible. The radio crackles constantly with bar updates and message traffic. Every once in a while, we’ll here a young CG’sman/woman come over the radio with zeal. It’s a nice change from the usual perfunctory drone one usually hears. Tillamook is a little skinny too and not much of a town by the marina, but they had what we needed. We met our second Baja-er in Tillamook. They were on a 38ft Wauquiz. Crew of five … now four. They had a death on board. They left Astoria and the crew member (a 54 year old male in apparently good shape) got seasick and went below to lay down. They checked on him periodically and he remained easily aroused and coherent. On one of the checks, a crew making food noted he didn’t look well. They could not arouse him and called the CG. I remember seeing the boat under sail just south of the bar and saw the CG helicopter fly overhead. The skipper told us the CG came out and dropped a diver in the water. The diver brought an AED aboard, but determined that the guy had been long gone. They took the body and flew back to Astoria. The deceased was single, no family and only a casual acquaintance of the skipper, but an enthusiastic sailor. He was looking forward to doing the Baja. One never knows the time or place … in most cases, it’s certainly not of our choosing. Two of the crew left at Newport (a sechduled departure) and the two remaining 75 year old salts were headed south to Baja with skipper to winter in Mexico. Good guys … we’ll see them again all the way down the coast.
How we got here is a story (or two) in itself;
Wednesday, July 25, 2007; 15:45 - We departed Tyee Marina, Commencement Bay, Tacoma, WA. It was a warm afternoon and the wind was out of the North. We headed for Seattle to say our final good-byes to Chuck and Shirley. As we cast off , Julie looked up and asked “Is this it?” “Yup” I said , “This is it.” With that she kissed the ground, hauled herself and the dock lines onto the boat, and we gently backed out of the slip that had been Itchen’s home for the past year and one-half. No one was there to see us off, so as we left the harbor I made a few extra toots on the airhorn (not expecting anyone to hear us). Julie noticed two heads pop up from the aft end of a trawler. She hollered back to me “there’s the boys.” I looked over and saw Steve and Glenn (my two shipwrights) who helped me rebuild Itchen. They supervised my every step and wouldn’t let me back off on the quality. They turned out to be not only trusted advisors, but good friends. After a quick spin around and a few final words, we slipped out of the entrance, with only those two warm, smiling faces bidding us adieu. It was just perfect.
Out of Commencement Bay and up East Passage we motored to Seattle. We were supposed to meet Chuck and Shirley that evening, but as usual we were late and didn’t get into Shilshoal till about 20:30. Chuck called a little after we tied and up and we made arrangements to meet the next day. First night out, we could not use our reciprocal moorage so it cost us $40.00 for the night. We went to bed tied securely to the quay at Shilshoal hearing nothing but the waves gently caressing the hull.
Thursday, July 26th, 2007 – Arose late and Chuck called about 11:00. They’d be down shortly and we could go out for lunch. We had some pretty good fish and chips and came back to the boat. While we chatted, I went up the mast to fix the radar reflector. It was really rotating and working the backstay. I removed the 5/16” u-bolts and secured it with plastic ties (we’ll see if it holds). Julie hauled me up and I got to wear my new climbing harness (it is so cool and I feel so secure with it, I have no fear of going up the mast). After coming down, I tightened the throttle handle on the steering. We chatted some more and they gave us some parting gifts (a new logbook, reading light and voyaging book of a trip down the west coast a sailor had taken in 2000). We’ve used them all, thanks guys. The time came for us shove off. After a few final pictures, begrudgingly, they cast us off and let us go. Admonishing us to “be careful … have a good time … be safe … remember to wear your life jackets … check your charts … watch the tides … stop … go … wait … bye … bye …bye. One last wave and we were around the corner … good parting is nothing if not sweet sorrow.
20:30 - Arrived Port Townsend. While coming into port there was a coast guard emergency. As we were entering the harbor a CG small boat was coming in at light speed behind us. I circled to give them clear passage and then entered the harbor. We tied up and went to find a slip. Helped ‘Bob” tie up his Catalina 36. No reciprocals again, but the price is dropping ($33.00 tonight). After locating a spot, we went to pull out. The wind was blowing us into the docks and I knew I’d have trouble. I tried backing out, but that wasn’t working … I knew right away as I bumped into Bobs boat (fiberglass makes quite a distinctive sound as it compresses and then snaps under the strain that 1800 RPM full astern will do). Bob, being the grand fellow he is, came down and helped us out and was able to save his boat in the bargain. He stood patiently, guardedly, on the dock telling me how to turn the boat around, without taking out any other boats. My boat turning angel was obviously on a break, but came hustling back (in the form of Bob). I was bale to get of that mess without filing any insurance claims and was even able to help Bob tie up as he pulled into the slip next to us. We invited him over for dinner and found out he was sailing alone (he did often) and he was headed up to the San Juan’s for a couple of weeks … or months. He had quit his job and didn’t plan to return to work until this last episode of “sail-about” has cleared. We went to bed to the sound of a pretty good breeze racing thought the spreaders.
Friday, July 27th, 2007; 11:55 - Arose about 0800 and Bob was gone (I wondered if my guardian angel was too)? Departed Port Townsend to calm, clear ski, light breeze and a flood tide. Only did 2-3 knots around Point Wilson. Off Discovery Bay, Julie got frisky and took her first run around the boat … naked … well, she had her life vest on. It was dead calm, so I joined her (for those of you that know me … I want that image to stay with you the rest of your lives!)
19:00 – Arrived Port Angeles. Wind picked up in the afternoon, maybe 15-20 knots … on the nose though. Pulled into the city dock (no reciprocals but quite a bargain at $10/night, no power though). Port Angeles had a party going on. They were celebrating Northwest Days (or something) and had multiple entertainers, a car show, artisan exhibits and a sand castle building contest (all were very ornate, detailed and huge). Julie was ready to go dancing. We walked through the exhibits and went up to the store for supplies. I needed to change the oil and I was pretty successful. My trouble came when I went to change the oil filter. Simple enough, right? I’ve changed it before (in fact I’ve changed hundreds of oil filters), but this time … this time, while changing the filter, I broke the oil sensor unit! $@#%$#%(&^$*$@&$#^*!!!!! (I think it’s because I ran around naked on the deck … and sinned). Who knew that little sensor was back there? My brand new anchor locker is leaking too. Oh well, jobs for tomorrow. Found a wi-fi site though. Bouncy night, but clear.
Saturday, July 28th, 2007. Called the mechanic in Tacoma and explained my dilemma. He told me to go to the local car parts store and use the sensor from a Toyota. I have a Yanmar diesel engine in my boat, not a Toyota gas engine. But after some research and a little help from the local auto parts store, we sorted it out. I installed it and it worked like a charm. Come to think of it, I’m not entirely sure the old sensor worked, but that doesn’t matter now, does it? We moved to the Port Angeles Yacht club; much more protected. Finally, we were able to use our reciprocals … sort of. We had to pay ($22/night) but we are to send in our receipts to PAYC and they will reimburse us … (we’ll see). Caulked up where I thought the leak was (around the toe rail, certainly not my finely crafted, heavily reinforced anchor locker). We did our laundry at a local hotel; Julie did it! She snuck in. We met our first Baja-er.
Sunday, July 29th, 2007 – Breakfast in uptown PA, across from the Goodwill. Not being able to pass up good shopping, we found a sewing machine for $7.50. It works better than the Pfaff 130 we bought off ebay, which we left behind because it wasn’t doing the job. We’re getting pretty used to walking. Fueled up (26.7 gallons) and filled the starboard water tank.
Tuesday, July 31th, 2007 – 0600- Departed PA in a heavy fog, cold and wet. 4-8 rollers lazily coming in with calm seas. Used my brand new radar. Headed for Neah Bay. 0800 went out on deck to whiz and noted a rapidly approaching powerboat. I thought I’d have time, but not wanting to be … interrupted, I paused and judgment being the better part of valor, waited. He was on me in a flash. It turned out to be a CG cutter. He pulled up right next to me. I thought we were about to be boarded, but he came over his loud speaker and instructed me to change course immediately, as I was operating in restricted waters. I did as he instructed, immediately, and looked at my chart plotter and saw I was outside the vessel traffic lanes. He spun around behind me and hung around until he was satisfied my intentions were clear and then he was gone. I scanned the horizon and with binoculars I saw a sub coming down the straights with what looked like tankers, fore and aft as escorts. Further back was another CG cutter bringing up the groups “six.” The skies cleared and we caught the outgoing tide and made 8-10 knots all the way to Neah Bay.
1300 - Arrive Neah Bay. V-Berth still leaking. Julie bought a fresh whole 15lb Tuna for $15.00. We split it with a couple from San Francisco, who were taking their boat {Evergreen} down from Friday Harbor. Dale, from Fish and Game, gutted and filet it for them (one filets a Tuna differently than a salmon). Julie marinated the Tuna in apple juice, wrapped it in bacon and fried it in lard. Yea … it was good. Duraglassed the anchor locker drain hole (we’ll see if this stops the leak).
Wednesday, August 1st, 2007.- 0605 – Depart Neah Bay, calm and sunny. We entered the Pacific Ocean at 0800. Heavy Fog and radar not working. It’s amazing the Pacific Ocean is 6,000 some odd miles across and extends from the North to the South Pole … lots of room. Out of the mist, 1000 yards off my port comes an old black and white hulled wooden fishing trawler. Very nicely aligned collision course. We watch each other, alter our courses respectively and slip silently past each other, each into our own pockets of fog. 1000 – raise the sails, winds out of the NE at 10-15 knots. Fiddled with the wind vane figuring out it’s idiosyncrasies. About 30 miles offshore, 4-8 foot swells, but doing about 8 knots SSW. 1400 changed course for La Push, due west. Crossed Evergreen and chatted on 68 for a few minutes. They are sailing on to San Francisco (crew of five aboard). Saw whales migrating north. Breeze freshens to 20-25 knots, wind vane working perfectly; still no radar. Navy probably jamming us as we were off restricted waters. We met a couple aboard “Invictus” in PA. He said his radar went out coming up from Astoria to Neah Bay, but was working again in PA.
1805 – Arrive La Push. Skinny water and narrow harbor entrance (no reciprocals, $22/night). Anchor locker still leaking. Determined leak is coming from near the port drain hole. I shoved a bunch of 5200 up there … we’ll see. La Push is and Indian Village and not many services available
Thursday, August 2st, 2007 – 0605 - Departed La Push; rally skinny water (at one point only 1.5 below the keel. In fact, we may have even bumped once or twice). Headed south about 13nm offshore. Following seas and winds, doing about 7-8 knots. Julie still seasick, but doing better.
1605 arrive Westport, Grays Harbor. No problem crossing the bar; very wide and well marked. Docked at the charter boat pier. No reciprocals, but only $13night. Anchor locker still leaking; smeared lifecaulk around the inside and coated the drain hole with lifecaulk … we’ll see. Stayed in Westport a few days. Not much of a town really, except for the charter boat tourism. Walked up to the grocery store and used the internet at the local library. Later we found a wi-fi site at the local laundry; used it and did our laundry as well. Found a pretty good marine store (Englunds Marine) and bought our fishing gear (tuna tackle – 65 ft of 200lb test line with a snubber that attaches to the stern rail, a luer with two huge hooks). Tried to rent a car to go to a shipmates promotion celebration, but none were available. Nice town, but not much going on. Filled starboard tank with water.
Sunday August 5th, 2007 – 0545 – Departed Grays Harbor … with the entire charter fleet. It looked like invasion forces … boats of all sizes, everywhere, screaming out to sea. Skies gray with 4-8ft swells. Learned for a local charter captain that the golden rule for the bars is never, ever go over the bar on an ebb tide (kind of the like Disney film where the characters say “… never go above the canopy.”) He gave us a chart that gave schedules for crossing the bars. It turns out it’s a combination of wind, swells and ebb current. Generally, if they are all low (below 3) the crossing will pretty smooth. Headed south now and crossed the Columbia Bar at noon. We went outside the bar but still the chop was significant (40 degree rolls). Saw a couple of sailboats coming out and passed one freighter going in. Calm seas after the bar. Motored all the way to Tillamook (Garibaldi).
1800 – arrived Tillamook. Another nice harbor with wide entrance. 25 ft of water beneath us. The Garmin chart plotter is great. Shows us exactly where the boat is in relation to the channel. Like flying with instruments only … I imagine. Even though the harbor is wide the channel is narrow (sounds kind of biblical doesn’t it). As we entered the channel and CG cutter came out and stood by in the shallows. I thought they were coming out to guide us in (they do that, you know) but after seeing we were navigating the channel correctly (or just noting my superior navigation skills) they poured the coals the engine and steamed on by (didn’t acknowledge us at all). Maybe they came out for another reason and just happen to stop in the shallows as part of the exercise they were conducting. Anyway, the CG is very active up here. The have been in every port we’ve stopped in and they’re presence is highly visible. The radio crackles constantly with bar updates and message traffic. Every once in a while, we’ll here a young CG’sman/woman come over the radio with zeal. It’s a nice change from the usual perfunctory drone one usually hears. Tillamook is a little skinny too and not much of a town by the marina, but they had what we needed. We met our second Baja-er in Tillamook. They were on a 38ft Wauquiz. Crew of five … now four. They had a death on board. They left Astoria and the crew member (a 54 year old male in apparently good shape) got seasick and went below to lay down. They checked on him periodically and he remained easily aroused and coherent. On one of the checks, a crew making food noted he didn’t look well. They could not arouse him and called the CG. I remember seeing the boat under sail just south of the bar and saw the CG helicopter fly overhead. The skipper told us the CG came out and dropped a diver in the water. The diver brought an AED aboard, but determined that the guy had been long gone. They took the body and flew back to Astoria. The deceased was single, no family and only a casual acquaintance of the skipper, but an enthusiastic sailor. He was looking forward to doing the Baja. One never knows the time or place … in most cases, it’s certainly not of our choosing. Two of the crew left at Newport (a sechduled departure) and the two remaining 75 year old salts were headed south to Baja with skipper to winter in Mexico. Good guys … we’ll see them again all the way down the coast.
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