December Sail

This is a holiday week for Peter and me, and we have been enjoying the time off.  After a very relaxing Christmas at home, we drove to Bainbridge Island on Tuesday afternoon to visit with family there.  Peter's brother Mark and his family are visiting from England, so we had a great evening catching up with them.  Eric and Eamon were there as well and I particularly enjoyed learning about recent career successes both have had, and listening to their engaging stories.  Such handsome, articulate men in this family!

But the real treat came on Wednesday, when we went for a December sail on Ablissian.  Early in the day we debated whether to go out, as the forecast was for 20-25 knots, with gusts to 30.  But the decision was made to go out and take a look.  We had the rare opportunity for the brothers to sail together - very hard to pass that up!  It wasn't actually raining yet, and it was very warm - in the low 50's.


We got the boat ready while Hailey, Naomi and Becky visited at the dock.  After a little hesitation, Naomi came aboard and looked around Ablissian.  She was clearly very comfortable down below - on a nicer day I think she might have enjoyed a short sail.  But we left her on the dock with her mother and her aunt, and off we went.



Because of the wind, we raised sails in the harbour just short of the ferry landing.  We reefed the main and flew the staysail.  Nothing for me to do but enjoy the ride with three experienced sailors on board.  We headed out through the channel, tacking in to give the ferry room to pass, then set course for Blake Island to the south.  We avoided quite a few floating logs, likely due to the high tides, and spotted a seal watching us as we passed the red nun at the channel entrance.  The winds were pretty steady at 22 knots, with gusts, but I don't believe we saw 30 at any point.  Ablissian once again showed us this is what she was built for.  With the reduced sail, she was strong and steady at about 5.2 knots, heeling comfortably.  It was an exciting, but uneventful sail, the best kind.  We had periodic light rain, but because it was so warm, it was very comfortable in the cockpit.

We had tea and debated how far to go south.  Mark and Simon took turns at the helm and we worked our way down to the southern tip of Bainbridge, but decided to circle back to the north rather than going around the island.  We took a quick peek at Blakely Harbour on Bainbridge, then cut between Blakely Rock and the shore and headed for home.

Once back in our slip the rain picked up so by the time we had the boat put away, we were all soaked.  So of course we stopped in the pub for a pint as we talked over the day and started plans for our next adventure - hoping for a more extended sail before Mark heads home, next time on Boadicea or with both boats.

This morning I was greeted with an email containing a photo Eamon took of us heading out yesterday - he was on the ferry that passed us.   Ablissian looks so small in this shot - heading out in the grey, rainy weather.

Yes, I am Still Here

How many times do I read favorite blogs with entries that start with that common apology, "sorry it has been so long since I have written"?    One of the challenges in starting a blog is that it implies a commitment to continue a blog.

Because I have so many commitments in my life (I'm sure you can relate), I'm not going to now try to catch you all up to what has been happening in my life in the last year that has made it difficult for me to continue my blog entries.  The short answer is that I started a new position at my company a year ago, and virtually all I've done for a year is work.  Good work, interesting work, but all consuming work.  So, little extra time to write.

But, I am happy to say, there has been time for sailing!  Ironic to read my last post on the Iceberg race last year, because we have just sent in our entry to this year's Iceberg.  In the intervening months we have certainly been sailing, and have been racing too.  Peter and I are learning more about handling Ablissian, and last week climbed to second in our class in a local race.  It was a significant race for us because we had a good start, we didn't give up (despite mid race doldrums that knocked us back), and we did a better job of dividing work according to capabilities.  (Stop smiling Peter!) What that means is I stopped volunteering for tasks I couldn't do well, and instead committed to tasks I could do.  So wish us luck in this year's Iceberg.  We are looking forward to even better teamwork!

I can offer a couple of high points in the previous 12 months.  Sailing in Pudget Sound is always a pleasure, and I have had so many great weekends filled with great sailing days and peaceful nights at anchor.  Our typical schedule is a drive from Portland to Bainbridge Island on Friday night after work, sailing on Saturday - either a night on the hook Saturday night or back to the slip, then an early start back to Portland on Sunday.  Sounds a bit hectic, but the relaxation achieved during those 36 or so hours away makes up for the challenge of fitting boat time into the weekend.  Periodically the Saturday sail involves a race, where we try out our skills and get to know our boat better.

On a personal note, I find it interesting that racing together brings Peter and I closer (after almost 30 years of marriage).  Peter is a much better sailor than me, but we are both learning and developing skills together, and the process is one we are both passionate about.  Examining the race as we head back to our slip, we both focus on how we can work together more effectively.

In August we took a real vacation and spent two weeks on the boat, cruising in the San Juan and Gulf Islands.  We have done some version of this every year for at least 10 years.  This year for the first time we partnered with Simon and Becky on Bodicea, and had the wonderful experience of sharing our adventures with close family.  So much fun to share anchorages, explore new territory and just sail together!  I hope this is a regular event every year.  Two highlights for me:  stepping from one boat to the other while under power (me doing the stepping, returning to Ablissian after an afternoon on Bodicea), and finding Bodicea in a sheltered harbor after a long day's sail apart. Gin and tonics with ice and swimming in the relatively warm water of the bay.  Lovely!

The holidays are now upon us, so we won't be back to the boat until just after Christmas.  But we are looking forward to some end of year sailing soon!

Nancy

Iceberg Race

We looked forward to motoring out of Eagle Harbor in the wake of Simon and Becky’s new boat, Boadicia, on the way to the Sloop Tavern Ice Berg Race together, but that dream was put on hold by the news that both boats would be short of crew due to illness.  Instead, Simon joined us on Ablissian, and we had the benefit of his skill and enthusiasm.   We look forward to having both boats out together soon.

We were one of 9 boats entered in the non-flying sails class, no spinnakers for this group, and as such, we had the first start of the morning. Due to winds gusting into the high teens and a crowded starting area, we played it safe and crossed the line just behind our competitors. But with one reef in the main and our smaller genoa, we were pleased to find ourselves able to sail right back into the middle of the pack.  As we anticipated a broad reach after rounding the first windward mark we had to shake out the reef before the rounding, a feat handled ably by Nancy and Simon as we continued to maintain our position amongst a fleet that was converging on the mark.  Once reaching across the Sound, we found the sweet spot with sail trim and saw the knot meter register a high of 8.2 knots while we continued to work our way past boats that had sailed away from us in the early going.  Great fun! 

After rounding the next mark  we managed to sail into a hole and had trouble getting the boat moving again while the wind remained light.  Lighter boats and those flying spinnakers had more luck and began to sail away from us at this point. When finally the wind did return to us, we had lots of ground to make up to avoid falling into last place in our class. We kept at it, and over the next two hours we were able to build a significant lead over three boats.  We tried every maneuver we could think of to catch our next closest competitor, but they managed to stay just beyond our reach.  Our efforts were worthwhile as, in the final result, with each boat’s handicap figured in, we finished 5^th out of eight boats, just ahead of the boat we had been chasing and just behind the boat that had been chasing us.  

Racing for us is really just another excuse to get out on the water and enjoy practicing our sailing skills in the company of like-minded folk on other boats.  This race served that purpose well.  Good wind, reasonable temperatures (mid-40’s) and not too much rain, contributed to a satisfying day on the water.  Off the dock in the morning just before 9am and back in our slip by 4:30, after a relaxed sail back across the Sound, we looked forward to enjoying a good meal together.  We found just that at Simon and Becky’s house where the day ended with good company, good food and a warm fire.

(Posting by Peter)

Some pictures of the day, beginning with the muffin that is one end of the starting line:

These last two are pictures of our boat, taken by our friends on Blue Lullaby.

Running the Engine

We have spent many weekends on the boat over these winter months. We fiddle with boat chores, read and relax. I look forward to Saturday morning scones from Pegasus Coffee Shop.

We take the boat out as often as weather permits, and today was a Weather Permitting day. In contrast to last weekend's gale warnings, we had no wind, so this was a motor rather than a sail. We enjoyed it anyway. We raced the ferry (they always win), circled Blakely Rock, and checked out the cormorant gathering. It was good to give the engine a workout, and great to feel some sun on our faces. Next weekend, we race!

Weekend Not Sailing

We are cozy on the boat, but in our slip in the marina listening to the wind howl in the rigging. No sailing for us today with wind at 40+ knots. Instead we did boat chores, drank tea and read books. Peter scrubbed the deck and hull in preparation for racing in two weeks, and we installed our new clock and barometer - my Christmas present from Peter

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

November Already?

No, I didn't intend to stop blogging once we brought the boat north, as that is the point where the adventure truly begins!  It has been an eventful couple of months, but rather than go back and create historical entries, I choose to pick up in the present.  You will no doubt see some references and photos related to adventures over the past few months.

Most recently we had our first official race on Ablissian.  Yes, we did do one race on the Columbia a few months after buying the boat, but we had no PHRF rating at the time, so the results are suspect at best.  This time we were official!  We entered the Sloop Tavern Fall Regatta, held on October 16.  Peter and I drove to Bainbridge from Portland on Friday night, then got up early Saturday morning to drive the boat across to Shilshole for the start of the race.  We picked up our able crew - August and Lola - and joined the boats milling for the start.

I'll admit that the few experiences I've had in the past with sailboat racing have not inspired me to do more.  Either we had no wind and moved at a snail's pace, or we were the slowest boat at the very back of the pack.  This time was different, as we were able to make a respectable showing against other boats in our class, finishing 7th out of 11 boats.  We had wonderful weather, with a good 10-15 knots of wind.  We had a lot of fun switching off on handling the winches during tacks, and exploring what the boat can do.  We are very much looking forward to more challenges in races coming up next season!

Here are a number of photos from our day of racing - the fantastic photos (and the one above) were all taken by August.  He is an amazing photographer!  Enjoy:

From Neah Bay to Bainbridge Island

After a peaceful night at anchor, we woke for an early start. We pulled up the anchor and I drove us out of the bay. We sighted a lovely Ketch coming toward us from the west, and I felt a sense of kinship imagining her recent travels off the coast.

We pulled out into the channel, turned right and headed east. The forecast was for a bit more wind today, so we looked forward to some sailing. We raised the main, which helped our progress, and the crew settled into the watch schedule. Deb took advantage of the warmth to read on the foredeck; Peter even napped a bit in the sails on the bow. August in the northwest.

As the day warmed, we removed coats and sweaters to feel the sun on our skin. We played with the auto-helm given the calm conditions. Look, no hands!

As the day passed, we realized that we would not make Port Townsend until after dark, so decided to anchor in Port Angeles. This was a good decision, as we had time to have a delicious meal and an early night.

On Wednesday morning, we woke to heavy fog in the Strait. But such a difference in our view of this challenge. Our last boat had no radar, so heavy fog meant you go back to port and wait. Now, although we were very cautious, we could keep going. Visibility varied through the day from less than a mile to an estimated 3 miles, so it was reasonable to travel. We moved just ouside of the shipping channel, and watched the chart plotter and radar. We had a crew member on the bow and blew our air horn periodically as required.

We passed several sailboats going the other way. It seemed magical to first see them on the radar, then staring intently to see them emerge ghost-like from the fog.

We rounded the point and headed south. The trip from Port Townsend to Bainbridge Island is one we have done so many times on our prior boat, Zenobia, so it was very relaxing to navigate these waters. We raised all of the sails - the main, genoa and staysail.

The quiet was lovely, and we soon found ourselves reading, knitting and chatting in the cockpit. We hadn't expected this kind of slow, cruising relaxation on this leg of the trip, so everyone was very happy.

By late afternoon we sighted Shilshoe Marina, followed by the Seattle skyline. Down around the red buoy and we pulled into our new home in Harbor Marina. Simon, Becky, Charley and Deb treated Peter and me to a celebration dinner at the Harbor Pub - smiles all around!

Up the Coast of Washington

Once across the bar, we made a right turn to head north.  Our running rate on the engine is 2400 RPMs, so we can average about 5.5 knots in favorable ocean conditions (faster in flat water in-land).  Our estimate to reach the Strait of Juan de Fuca was 36 hours.

As we moved further out into the ocean, the swells became larger, growing to 6 feet.  These waves are so different from wind waves.  They are larger, more or less regular but can change frequency and direction with no warning.  These were mild conditions - I can only imagine what harsh conditions must be like!  These waves gave us a slow carnival ride that increased sea sickness in the crew.  Deb and I were the lucky exceptions.  Everyone was using some form of sea sickness prevention - either a patch or Bonine - but with varying success.  Poor Peter seemed to be suffering the most, and spent his off watch time reclining in the stern.

We settled into our agreed upon watch schedule; couples at two hour intervals.  These were short watches, but we planned to continue the same schedule throughout the night and two hours seemed right for our first overnight experience in the ocean.

We watched the coastline recede as we moved farther off shore, until we lost sight of it all together.  Our weather was gray and overcast, but not foggy.  Watch followed watch as we worked our way north through the afternoon.  Eventually we lost sight of land completely.

The crew was bundled up against the cold, but in great spirits, with a hot meal that helped to keep us warm.  Thank goodness for a gimbaled stove.  We were using our off - shift time to nap, in anticipation of a long night.

At one point Becky woke me to tell me they sighted whales off the stern!  I quickly grabbed my camera and dashed up to snap as many shots as I could - these were not the Orcas I am used to seeing in Pudget Sound, but likely greys.

And Then it was night... what an experience!  As I sat at the helm on my watch I found I could not see a thing - no sense of the horizon, little sense of up or down.  It was very disorienting and unless I kept my eye on the compass, the boat was as likely to go in circles as it was to go straight.  Peter and I shared our watches, passing the tiller back and forth at 10 minutes intervals as our eyes grew tired on our late shift.  The crew was mostly silent, sitting at the helm on watch, then falling into the nearest available berth and asleep instantly.

Morning broke and we gathered as folks off shift woke and sought out breakfast.  We exchanged stories from our watches - all had found it as disorienting as Peter and I did.  But we had calm weather all night, with only fishing boats for occasional company, no large ships.






We gradually worked our way closer to shore as we neared the northern edge of our course.  Late in the afternoon we spied land - Tatoosh Island off the Olympic Peninsula.    We carefully rounded to the right to enter the Strait of Juan de Fuca - we have been in the Strait many times, but never the far western entrance, so this was yet another momentous occasion.







We decided to tuck into Neah Bay for the night so that all could get much needed rest.  We dropped anchor and enjoyed a beautiful sunset and a celebratory toast to our successful voyage.  We beat our estimate, clocking 34 hours from the Astoria dock.

Crossing the Columbia River Bar

What an adventure! The crew came aboard on Sunday morning about 8:30 after a night at local motels. All gear was safely stored and we carefully monitored weather and water conditions. A final check of oil and fluids and a call to the coast guard to double check conditions, which had been reported favorable on line. 

We were told the Bar was actually closed to pleasure vessels under 22 feet. We waited another 30 minutes and the vessel size prohibited was reduced to 18 feet. We were at a point of departure that would have us on the Bar in slack going into a flood tide - ideal - so we decided to go.

We followed the channel carefully and kept our eyes on the horizon (fore and aft) and the radar for large ships. All went so smoothly - the water was full of swells (4 - 5 feet) so we had consistent motion, but as different as this was from our usual river waves, I didn't find it frightening. We did see breaking waves on either side of the channel, as we had read about.  These were the conditions that can capsize a boat if you are swept outside of the channel.  

We watched for ship traffic but did not see anything really large in the channel.  We did see a yellow pilot boat deliver a pilot to a tug pulling a barge.  The pilot boat drove along side the tug and the pilot simply stepped across, despite the rolling water.

Peter and Charley were starting to feel the effects of the motion - a bit of queasiness.  But we were past  Buoy #7, with just three buoys to go before the end of the channel, so we were almost through the first stage.  At this point, the engine started to sputter and then died.  Yikes!  We had read that this is a frequent problem and often leads to problems as boats are swept out of the channel into dangerous waters. The usual cause is junk in the diesel which gets stirred up with the rough conditions. We were prepared - we have second fuel filter that we can switch to, we had additional filters and tools ready, and of course we are a sailboat, so we had our sails ready.

Step one was to raise a sail and get the boat under control. Unfortunately we found that one of the slides on the main sail had been put in upside down - the twist prevented the sail from rising. (Important lesson learned; always test the sails after you have removed them for any reason!)  The crew was remarkably calm despite this setback.

I was concerned to note that we were now outside of the channel to the north, drifting toward Peacock Spit. Conditions were rough, so working on the foredeck was challenging, however Peter was on a tether and quickly raised the staysail, followed by the Genoa. Simon was at the helm and with the light wind was able to get the boat under control.

We were moving in the right direction, back in the channel! Charley checked the fuel filters but found that they were not clogged - instead it appeared that we had air in the fuel line, so he went below and bled the air from the line. Although we know how to do this, it was fantastic having Charley on board: as a mechanic, he was able to diagnose the problem and execute a fix much more quickly.

Everyone held their breath as we turned the key - but the engine roared to life and we cheered! The rest of the crossing was uneventful. Upon reflection, we were fortunate in that we stayed calm; we first worked to get the boat under control with sails; and we did not have issues with ship traffic.

Total time to cross was 3.5 hours from the time leaving the dock to passing the final buoy.

Travel to Astoria

This last weekend we went downriver to Astoria, which is the first leg of our trip to take Ablissian north to the San Juan and Gulf Islands.  The trip started with a fond farewell to our slip in Tomahawk Bay, then quickly ground to a halt when we arrived at the railroad bridge, called for an opening and were told they were having electrical problems and couldn't open.

We circled and eventually sailed a bit while waiting, and after about an hour the bridge was opened and we  started the motor and headed through. (the section on the right pivots to open the bridge)

We had bright sun and warm temperatures, with wind building through mid morning.  We found the new chart plotter to be a great addition to our paper charts - the combination made it very easy to stay in the channel. 

This was our first time past the railroad bridge, so it was interesting to see the west end of Hayden Island, the junction of the Willamette and then Sauvie Island.

We motored through what has been referred to as the jewel of the Columbia, a section around Walker Island with packed beaches, lots of jet skis and water skiers.  It was a really lovely section of the river.

As we traveled into the afternoon, we had a couple of close views of large ships - one of which passed us with little room to the side - and a second time a large Army Corps of Engineers vessel turned directly in front of us, forcing us to circle to avoid a collision.  But it was all manageable.


By 3pm the winds had picked up considerably and we found ourselves moving through 4-5 foot waves and 20-25 knots of wind.  Ablissian buried her bowsprit several times.  But the boat handled this very well and it was comfortable in the cockpit.  We were pleased to have a taste of this as it gave us more confidence for the off shore travel ahead of us.  We later confirmed that we were experiencing a small craft advisory.

We eventually decided to anchor at the Clifton Channel and leave the last bit of travel for the morning instead of continuing in the rough water.  We dropped anchor about 7:20pm.  This was our first time anchoring Ablissian and we were successful on the first try.  After a hot supper we did boat chores and turned in.  I woke several times to check the anchor but it was holding solid.

In the morning we got underway about 6:20.  There were some interesting rock formations and we saw more wildlife, including deer at the shore.  The last miles prior to Astoria open out to a wide, marshy section.  The channel is well marked and we were making excellent time with the current - up to 8 knots at one point!

Well before I expected it, we saw the Astoria Bridge in the distance, along with several very large ships anchored to the sides of the channel.  We rounded Tongue Point, passed under the bridge, turned into the West Basin Marina and found our slip for the week.  We called Taylor for our ride home and set about tidying the boat for departure.

She looks pretty good under the looming bridge!