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guido
Trad climber
Santa Cruz/New Zealand/South Pacific
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Aug 29, 2012 - 03:48pm PT
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Ok High Traverse, on that note about the Bruce anchor them's fighting words mate. Few things as controversial in blue water cruising as the correct anchor. Enough said. Will save it for Facelift.
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HighTraverse
Trad climber
Bay Area
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Aug 30, 2012 - 11:00pm PT
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guido
you're on
tall tales of anchoring. After telling an anchoring tale, you have to drink a beer. Then it's my turn. Last sailor on his feet wins.
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guido
Trad climber
Santa Cruz/New Zealand/South Pacific
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Aug 31, 2012 - 08:47pm PT
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The Three Moutoneers arrive in Canada. Beautiful vistas, spectacular and and secure anchorages with their 110 lb Bruce anchor and frost. So far, no mutiny so Ekat is safe from keelhauling.
Hi Everyone,
Wow, it has been a week since the last update of Mouton Noir's voyage. I am rather taken aback- we seem to be in a timeless state, with the days passing quickly and the scenery flying by. We are now in Canada, and making tracks for the crossing from the northern BC islands into the more populated section of the trip in the waters east of Vancouver Island. The crossing of the lower part of Queen Charlotte Sound is several days away, though.
When I last wrote, we were headed for Meyer's Chuck. Meyers Chuck is at 55:44.49N by 132:16.23W. This is a spectacularly pretty little cove. It is rather hair-raising to enter for the first time, as the entrance is blind, and there are a number of reefs and rocks to hit if you get careless. The proper channel is easy, but very small. Inside, there is a dock, and a number of beautiful homes. It is very remote. We tied up at the dock and had a pleasant time walking about and chatting with other cruisers the two large powerboats also at the dock.
THe next day we headed for Ketchikan, the last port in Alaska. Ketchikan is much bigger than Petersburg or Wrangell. We stayed at Bar Harbor, about 1 mile from the downtown area. We were surrounded by purse seiners overhauling their gear. Alaska is very much about fishing, and one cannot get away from the ubiquitous fishing boats and fishing culture. One would think that given the huge industry of fishing that it would be easy to get a good fish dinner and perhaps cheap, too. BZZZZTTTTT! WRONG!!! Our experience is that fish is hard to find in restaurants, and generally very expensive. It is, however, very fresh. After a bus ride to downtown Ketchikan, and the obligatory search for a bookstore, we staggered back to the boat and decided to try the little hole in the wall restaurant just at the top of the dock, which came highly recommended. Well, it wasn't a hole-in-the-wall! It was a very high end fish cuisine palace hidden in a beat up, weathered old building. Reservations were required, but they somehow squeezed us in and we had one of the best fish dinners ever! Fantastic Chowder. It was a great treat from our usual (very good) home cooking. If you are ever there, it is called the Bar Harbor Restaurant.
The next day (August 26) we departed Ketchikan for Prince Rupert, in Canada. We knew that we would have to stop somewhere between Ketchikan and Prince Rupert, however. The two choices were Foggy Bay in the USA or Brundige inlet, on Dundas Island in Canada. It was a beautiful, sunny day, one of the very few we have had, and the miles were flying by. We had to cross Dixon Entrance (where we are exposed to the Pacific Ocean), and then Chatham Sound to get to Prince Rupert, and the conditions were perfect- calm and the current was in our favor for a change. Just as we were passing Foggy Bay, I tried calling the Canadian Customs to see if staying overnight in Brundige inlet without going ashore was legal, and was quickly informed that it was NOT!!! and could result in the confiscation and loss of my boat!!! UGH!!! Don't mess with the Canadian Customs!! So we made a hard left turn immediately and headed for Foggy Bay, grumbling and complaining under our breaths. Foggy Bay is similar to Meyer's Chuck in that it is a hidden snug little cove, with a scary entrance and lots of ways to have a bad afternoon. It is visually difficult to spot the entrance, and we gave thanks for the excellent chartplotters we have onboard. After passing between several guardian islets, and weaving our way past kelp beds and then through a narrow channel (perhaps 50 feet wide in places, we arrived at a gorgeous inner basin with plenty of room for several boats. We were to share it with a powerboat from Texas of all places. Foggy Bay inner cove is at 54:57.00'N by 130:56.48'W. Google it- it is amazing.
As we had guessed, the next day, August 27, was not at all favorable for the run into Prince Rupert. The current was against us most of the day, there was a big ugly chop from the direction we wanted to go, and the wind was right in our faces at about 22 knots, and it was raining. We had a very difficult day getting to Prince Rupert! We ended up motorsailing with a double reef in, tacking to stay about 25-35 degrees off the wind and sniveling a lot. Progress was brutally slow and we were not happy campers. The contrast with the perfect evening in Foggy Bay just 14 hours before was amazing. As the day progressed and as we slowly got closer to our destination, a big navigational decision had to be made. Between us and the fabled fleshpots of Prince Rupert was a very large island called Digby Island. THere are two ways to get to Prince Rupert- either pass north of Digby Island through the torturous (but short) Venn Passage, or take the much longer but straightforward path around the bottom of the island and up the big channel into Prince Rupert. We were tired, wet, and disgusted, but Venn Passage is pretty intimidating. Going around the bottom of the island would have meant several more hours of hacking our way into the brick wall chop and wind, and while Venn Passage might be a beating also, at least it would be a DIFFERENT beating, so we made the decision to go that way. As it turned out, it was a very good choice. Although torturous, convoluted and shallow, there were plenty of navigational aids and ranges, and it is well charted. Susan drove the entire section (about 5 nm) by hand while I called out the courses and Ekat looked for the marks. The end comes very suddenly. You pass through a very narrow channel between some nasty rocks, make a sharp turn to the left in a tiny basin, and BOOM! you are in Prince Rupert Harbor. Prince Rupert is located on a very large Island, called Kaien Island, with a very deep channel between it and Digby Island. It is a nice town, with a lot of fishing, lumber, and shipping related industries. Prince Rupert is connected via road to the northern BC inland and the Yukon, and a lot of freight flows through it to the interior.
We stayed two nights at the Prince Rupert Yacht Club docks. No flannel pants, blue blazer and hat with scrambled eggs on the brim here! Skip and Muffy need not apply. The docks were ancient and barely floating, and the entire marina (to give it a good name) was full of fishing boats. We squeezed into a slip with literally a foot to spare and gave thanks for the 30 inch diameter fenders we had bought in Sitka. The people at the Marina could not have been nicer or more accommodating, and the showers were excellent. 3 minutes for a loonie (a Canadian dollar coin).
We had a nice day off walking around in the rain (a constant feature of life up here this year), re-provisioning at the excellent Safeway, and getting more books and charts for the complex navigation through the maze of islands to come. The second night, on a local recommendation, we jammed into a really small diner in a fish market and had one of the best fish meals I have ever had. The diner had about 8 or 9 tables, and the accommodations were extremely spartan. You were rubbing elbows with a huge tank of terrified (for good reason...) Dungeness crabs, several refrigerators full of smoked salmon, and one of beer. The kitchen was smaller than a typical home kitchen, but the food was to die for! Some people from Belgium were seated to our left, and were so impressed that they actually had two dinners in succession each! I had halibut, which was truly astounding, with a caesar salad and new potatoes, and a Kokanee Beer. Desert was a giant chocolate chip cookie with ice cream and whipped cream. Yum, yum, yum! Life cruising tends to accentuate the small things in life, like a good shower, a nice meal, or a pretty sunset. One gets into a sort of timeless existence, where each day morphs into the next with little to differentiate them except for the weather, the food, the anchorages, and the companionship of your friends. Politics, and the scandal du jour, which seem so important when at home, are really meaningless out here. You just don't care. Period. I have had almost no internet access for months, and I don't care. weird...
We departed Prince Rupert on Wednesday, August 29, headed into the huge archipelago of Northern British Columbia. It might be worth exploring this region on Google Earth, as it is one of the largest archipelagos on the planet. It is simply immense! And very complicated. Both Southeast Alaska and Northern BC are dominated by gigantic tides and currents, cool wet weather, and scenic beauty that will knock you down. Cruise ships are very common here, but I guarantee you that as good as the view is from them, nothing can compare with the view from a small boat wending it's way through the complex waterways of this region.
Coming out of Prince Rupert, we had several hours of dodging islands and reefs as we headed south to the Grenville Channel. This is a narrow, very deep waterway that stretches straight as an arrow for over 35 miles. It is steep on both sides and it is impossible to describe the beauty. When we departed Prince Rupert, it was raining heavily, and quite cold. Fortunately, by the time we got to the entrance to the channel, a weak sun was peaking through the clouds, and the day just kept getting better and better. The current in Grenville channel is a constant headache, and we had hoped to get a favorable one. Sadly, by the time we had wended our way to the entrance, the train had left the station, and we had about 1.5 knots against us most of the day. We didn't really mind, though, as we were quite gob-smacked by the scenery, and there was no navigation to speak of- just lash the wheel and don't do anything but sightsee. Eventually, the current changed in our favor (if you wait long enough it always will...) and we started to pick up speed toward our intended anchorage at Lowe Inlet. We arrived in the late afternoon, and worked our way into Nettle Cove- the inner anchorage. The position was 53:33.49N by 129:34.17W. We anchored in 100 feet of water just off Verney Falls, a beautiful waterfall that cascades into the cove. After a wonderful BBQ dinner, we retired to a perfect evening with a glassy cove and perfect weather.
The good weather continued yesterday, August 30, after a wet, drizzly morning as we finished traversing the Grenville Channel and headed into the complex of waterways that will take us to Vancouver Island (eventually...). This section sees the intersection of the MacKay Reach, Douglas Channel, Verney Passage, and several other sounds and passages. We were treated to glassy conditions, and a number of small whales (humpbacks, I think) were doing their thing in the distance. We headed across MacKay Reach and down Fraser Reach towards Butedale. We had hoped to go to the warm springs at Bishop Bay, but the time and currents were not really in favor of it, so we headed down Fraser Reach instead. Butedale used to be a cannery town and in years past was a popular stop along this section of water. The Grenville Channel, Fraser Reach, Graham reach and so on are extremely deep fiord like waterways, with depths up to 2000 feet. The water at the edges can be several hundred feet deep a boat length from shore. As a result, there are few anchorages in this 100 mile odd section of water. Butedale used to be one of them, but weather and neglect have caused the buildings to collapse, and the docks are in bad repair. We had hoped to stop, but a close examination made an alternative anchorage 8 miles further on seem a better choice. It is too bad, as Butedale is ideally located. We continued to Khutze inlet and anchored last night on an underwater island in the middle of a deep fiord, offshore from Green Spit. Our anchorage was at 53:05.625N by 128:31.313W in about 70 feet of water. This turned out to be a splendid and very beautiful anchorage, but it was a bit un-nerving to be anchored in the middle of a huge, very deep, body of water on a bump, essentially, with several knots of current flowing by as the tide went in and out. Our 110 pound Bruce anchor and the 400 feet of 3/8" high test chain we carry as our primary anchor have been a god send here, as many of the anchorages are very deep or have substantial currents, and the penalty for failure is pretty high. We installed a massive Lofrans Falkon Windlass to handle the anchor system, and it also has been wonderful. People have laughed at our anchors and windlass in the Bay area- here they are admired, and we are very glad to have them. Anyway, we had a very restful night last night. I periodically got up to check our anchor, and was treated to a full moon and a cloudless sky- the first evening like that I can remember. Little wisps of mist wrapped around the trees on shore and gave Khutze Inlet a magical quality.
This morning the day dawned clear, and as the frost (it is starting to get cold...) burned off, we pulled up the anchor and headed down Graham Reach for the tiny Indian town of Klemtu. We have heard mixed reports about Klemtu, but they have a government dock and some amenities, so we will give it a try. We will either have a great time or get mugged, but that's what cruising is all about. In the next few days we will head further Southeast to Shearwater, another small town near the Indian town of Bella Bella, then head trough the maze of passages and islands leading to Queen Charlotte Sound and the passage across it to Vancouver Island. Reaching Vancouver Island will be the start of the home stretch as far as the northern waters go, with the dicey and often difficult passage from the Strait of Juan de Fuca to San Francisco as the last big hurdle.
I will try to update this more often, as it is easy to forget wonderful things. It is always great to hear from folks- we are pretty isolated out here, and don't get much email.
All the best!
Michael, Susan, and Ekat
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guido
Trad climber
Santa Cruz/New Zealand/South Pacific
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Some more tidbits on the Moutaneers:
Well, today we are in Klemtu. We had heard mixed reports about it, but decided to come anyway. I am very glad we did. It is very third world- like. It is not a wealthy community by a long shot. Mostly Kitasoo indian people, many lifelong residents. The facilities are pretty run down, but the people have been super friendly. The local caretaker of the community Great Lodge, George Robinson (I know- a traditional First Nation name...), who was born here, invited us to see the lodge. We took him up on it. It was fantastic. It is a large building made of red cedar. There are nice carvings and totems on the outside, but the inside is the prize. It is a huge open room, with bleacher like seats on two sides. Enough for 2000 people (the town has about 500). THe center area is of a sandy gravel, with a periphery of concrete. In the center of the gravel is a large firepit. The ceiling is quite high, with a large chimney like structure over the firepit. There are two ENOMOUS!!! beams made from whole trees running lengthwise along the roof. THere are carved pillars and trusses supporting them with beautiful renderings of bears, killer whales, eagles, ravens, and a frog. There is an enormous drum, made from a single log, about 35 feet long that they use in the cerenonial dances. As many as 20 people can drum at once. I bet it sounds just wonderful. There are windows high up in the roof that let spectacular beams of light in, which illuminate the golden colored red cedar interior. They burn red cedar logs in their ceremonies, so the whole place has the most delightful smell.
It was, simply wonderful to see. THe village sits around a little cove which is full of enormous salmon, which are literally jumping all over the place. Seriously- they are thumbing their noses at everyone. Jumping seveal feet out of the water! All over the place!!
We are tied up at an old wood dock with a few other boats. THe sun is shining, and the temperature is very pleasant. Our trip from the anchorage at Khutze Inlet was easy and uneventful. Soon we will fire up the BBQ and have a nice dinner. Then tomorrow, about 30 miles to Shearwater, at Bella Bella, another Indian town.
THe scenery here is unbelievable. THere is no way to really describe it.
Well, that's all for now. All the best!
Michael
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Mighty Hiker
climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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Don't mess with the Canadian Customs!!
Blame your department of homeland insecurity, and federal policies - they made us do it.
When will the travellers be passing through Vancouver and area?
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SCseagoat
Trad climber
Santa Cruz
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Topic Author's Reply - Sep 5, 2012 - 08:56pm PT
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Well, made it to North Vancouver Island, Port Hardy. Things are winding down. Our trusty First Mate has started her return to the Holy Monunt. Michael and I have lost some time due to "gale force winds" in the Johnstone so we have holed up in Port Hardy for a few days. Still some wonderful things to see but I knew when we crossed Queen Charlotte Strait that the homeland beckons.
Ahh, how time flies...pub food tonight. Not too bad!
Susan
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guido
Trad climber
Santa Cruz/New Zealand/South Pacific
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Sep 13, 2012 - 09:35pm PT
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Mouton Noir back in the USA and headed to FaceLift-sort of. Here is to a fast and safe passage down the West coast to the Bay Area. Transition time of year on the coast and can be anything from a Mr Toad Wild Ride to a walk in Central Park.
Ken should work up an award for the longest, slowest and most uncomfortable round about route ever taken to FaceLift?
Hello everyone,
I have finally gotten time to drop you all a note and to bring you up to date on our travels. As I type, we are halfway between Roche Harbor on San Juan Island (in the San Juan Islands, USA) and Port Angeles, Washington, on the south side of the Strait of Juan de Fuca. We will be stopping in Port Angeles for the night, and then heading to Neah Bay, a few miles from the Pacific Ocean. We plan to start our return passage down the west coast on Saturday. The weather looks as good as we might hope for this time of year.
I have been informaed that our Yellowbrick tracker is now showing our positions on the chart, so you can follow our passage almost in real time from the website http://yb.tl/transback2012. Or:
or go to the Single Handed Society website, sfbaysss.org
then click on 2012 Transpac Map & Race Viewer
and find "To view the tracker page for boats returning to the West Coast, click here."
So where were we? When I last wrote, we hqad just visited the Great Lodge of the local First Nation people in Klemtu. That was a really satisfying and fun day! THe next day we motored to Shearwater, a resort near the Indian town of Bella Bella. This is a huge marina which has fuel and services (including a boatyard) for pleasure and fishing boats. There were about equal numbers of each in there. We enjoyed hot showers and a good meal and some beers at the local tavern, and the next day saddled up Mouton Nooir and headed down the channels tothe decrepit town of Namu.
Namu is one of the previously flourishing small communities which have fallen apart after the canning industry disappeared. There are many of them in these islands. Although someone lives at Namu and is trying to keep the town alive, it looked pretty dismal and conditions at the dock were rough and windy, so we headed north a quarter mile to a fabulous land-locked cove called Rock Inlet for the night. Rock Inlet is reached through a narrow channel that snakes between tiny rock islands. When one enters the cove it opens up to a beautiful small body of water that is totally protected from any wind or seas. There is a small logging operation on one end, but other than that the place is pristine. It was so calm that we had real trouble even figuring out where we had entered, as the mirror surface of the water created an illusion of continuity on the shoreline. We could have anchored with a 5 pound weight and a string it was so calm and peaceful. The next day we negotiated the rocky inlet at much lower water, and headed for our final anchorage in the Northern BC waters: Fury Cove on Penrose Island. The trip was pretty uneventful, as usual, if you count having your eyes poked out by the beautiful scenery uneventful.
Fury Cove is a fairly large, sort of circular cove whose entrance is hidden behind a bunch of rocks. To enter the cove one blindly trusts the chart and sailing guides and enters a narrow patch ow water between forbidding rock islands. In a few minutes, as predicted, things get less stressful, and after a turn to the left, Fury cove is entered through a tiny inlet about 2 boat lengths wide. THe actual cove is spacious. It has a sand beach on the western side which allows a nice view of Queen Charlotte Sound. Other than a few mild breezes, Fury cove was totally peaceful and we spent a pleasant night, swilling and gorging as usual. When we anchor for the night, we usually BBQ something, with a nice salad and potatoes or other starch, followed by fresh baked cookies for desert. Sirius radio had finally started working, so we had a wide choice of music to entertain ourselves.
THe next morning we got going very early and headed into Queen Charlotte Sound. This stretch of water has about 30 nm of it exposed directly to the Pacific, and has a bad reputation for misery and despair. We were quite fortunate to get the tides and currents in our favor, and to have glassy smooth water for the majority of the crossing. Even 10 to 15 knots of westerly wind would have made the crossing pretty miserable and slow, but we lucked out and got into the lee of Vancouver Island just as the Westerly/North Westerly winds that had been predicted started to blow. In fact, we had just beeten a fairly intense gale from the NW that was caused by very high pressure over the north end of Vancouver Island. Offshore to the west, things got pretty intense, with 45 knot winds. We however, dodged it all and finally motored into Port Hardy Bay. We had planned to spend the night at the public floats, a 3 minute walk from the center of town. The wind had risen to about 20 knots, though, and several feet of chop was causing the floats (which were mostly taken by big fishing boats) to fly around like hooked trout. The sight of a half sunken powerboat dangling by it's bow line from the dock did little to increase our confidence, so we made a hard left and headed into the inner harbor, past a reef marked by yellow floats. This reef was a REAL reef, as we found out on departure, as it was completely out of the water! Inside the inner harbor, we found a small marina, the Quarterdeck Marina, and after a bit of a docking adventure (screaming, confusion, people running too and fro waving lines and trying to interest the amused bystanders to help, that sort of adventure- not the good kind) we tied up, and there we stayed for two nights while the storm raged in the Johnstone Strait- our next destination. Port Hardy was our first taste of "civilization" since we left Hawaii. Alaskan cities and Prince Rupert, while being nice places (mostly...) seem like they are not really connected to the modern world. The pace and the interest spectrum of the people is far removed from what we are used to in the lower 48 states. Fish, weather, and the local high school teams are important- international politics and the latest gizmo from Apple are not. In Port Hardy we started to see a little more of the world we left, and it became more reaal with each stop in a city as we travelled south.
After the gale had blown itself out, we left Port Hardy to do battle with johnstone Strait. This is the long narrow body of water that separates the upper half of Vancouver Island from the mainland. It is bounded on the south by Vancouver Island, and on the North by many islands, which form a series of archipelagos. Currents in this area can be very intense, and careful timing is critical. Our near term goal was to pass through either Seymour or Surge Narrows, two very narrow and ferocious passes that separate the northern waters from the larger sounds and straits leading to Vancouver and Victoria. Currents in these Narrows can hit 16 knots, and trying to go through at times other than slack water can be really, really dangerous. Johnstone strait is very long, and it would take us 2 days to get theough it. It is extremely beautiful, with high, glacier carved sides and gorgeous views. We saw pods of Orcas, and a number of other whales. The first night out of Port Hardy we went north into Port Harvey (like the 6 foot tall invisible rabbit) and found a delightful little marina run by an ex-corporate sort. We had planned to anchor out, but it seemed churlish to do so 50 yards from a nice dock, so we tied up and had some amazing food, cooked for us by the proprietor, Don. He does his own baking, and is very good at it. I had a salmon burger with a fresh baked bun for dinner. It was heaven! The next morning, we had fresh baked cinnamon rolls (and took a few for later!).
Joe McKeown had suggested that we visit some friends on Murelle Island, reached by doing the Surge Narrows instead of the more common Seymour Narrows. There are a maze of channels, sounds, and assorted waterways to the north of Johnstone strait, but only Surge Narrows and Seymour narrows communicate with the waters further south. In any case, we had tried to game out a scenario that would get us to their house with the need to pass through the narrows at a very tightly defined time (slack water). As it turned out, the tides were near neap, meaning a small distance from high to low tides, and we found a window late in the day to get through Seymour Narrows about an hour after slack water that should not have been too hazardous. Unfortunately, we saw no way to pull off a similar feat to go through Surge Narrows, so we put the hammer down on the poor, long suffering Perkins engine (which is now starting to smoke quite a bit, although it runs fine) and headed for Seymour Narrows. Thios was sort of a committing thing, since there are few anchorages in Johnstone strait, and once we committed to the last 5 miles before Seymour Narrows, the increasing current would make it difficult to get to one. As it turned out, we hit our goal exactly and passed through Seymour Narrows 45 minutes after slack water with the current helping us. We only saw a knot or so in the Narrows, but after passing through, we found ourselves flying over the ground with about 4 knots of current from behind. THe outlet of Seymour Narrows passes over Ripple Rock, a formerly highly feared and deadly underwater obstacle that creates extreme turbulence and whirlpools. Until it was blown up by the largest non-nuclear explosion of all time, Ripple Rock killed hundreds of people when boats would be driven into the rocks or capsized in the horrendous overfalls and whirlpools of Seymour Narrows. Now-days, although nothing to take lightly, Seymour Narrows is a much more predictable and safer passage. We certainly had no great difficulty, although it was exciting!
A few miles down from Seymour Narrows is the lovely town of Campbell River. We visited here last summer on a road trip to Alaska, but due to the rapidly approaching darkness, we opted to head into April Point Marina, part of a high end resort on the other side of Discovery Passage. The marina normally handles very large pleasure boats, but due to the lateness of the season, there were only a few smaller boats in there. We had no trouble tying up, and in fact the huge floats and space allowed me to practice some unusual maneuvers without any great fear of damaging a multimillion dollar power boat (very common up here). We had wonderful showers and then treated ourselves to a fabulous dinner at the very upscale restaurant that is part of the resort complex. I thought about getting a mud facial, with cucumber slices on the eyes and all, but it was late and the masseuse had gone home. Maybe next time...
Early the next morning we caught a favorable tide and motored to Comox, a delightful littl town. The marina was cute, but the harbormaster's idea of space between lines of floats was a little distorted, and we got into a nasty docking situation because we could not complete our turn to lay alongside the float. Fortunately, we are a metal boat, and have a sturdy bow. It will need some paint when we get home. The big chunk of wood that we took out of the dock- eh, too bad for the wood! We were lucky that Josh was right on the spot to take a line or things would have been much worse. osh and his wife Keely own a beautiful wooden Giles sailboat "Kuan Yin". We later ran into them at Roche Harbor. One of the great delights of cruising is meeting so many fun people.
We knew Comox was a nice town because there were flowers everywhere, and a 2 minute walk up from the docks led to a fabulous used book store with all my favorite authors. I staggered out of the store with a huge sack of new books and right into a wonderful coffee shop with excellent tea and cinnamon rolls. How lucky is that? Ha!!
The forecast for the next day was pretty dismal, with southeasterlies of 20 to 30 knots forecast. We were headed for Nanaimo, about 55 miles directly to the Southeast. As became apparent, the reason that they have forecasts is to provide a word to the wise as to what sort of horrible things might happen to you. If you are NOT wise, then, of course, the things DO happen to you. As they did to us...
We left the dock pretty early to get the good tidal current, and although overcast and unpleasant looking, the winds were light. THings went well as we worked our way past a few islands, until the butcher's bill for our hubris became past due and the Southeasterly kicked in. Between the islands and Nanaimo lay about 35 miles of the north end of the Strait of Georgia, with nothing to the southeast to block either wind or wave for many, many, many miles. So, of course, the (as forecast) 20 to 30 knot wind raied a miserable 3 to 5 foot brick walled chop, with a period that seemed about the length of our boat. Poor Mouton Noir bucked and shimmied, and slammed and shook. All to no avail. The wind persistently clung to directly from ahead, and the speed dropped, and then dropped some more. THe tide turned and now we had 1.5 knots against us. Our speed over ground fell until we were doing well to maintain 2.5 knots over ground. The motion was wretched, the boat was in misery, and so were we. We put up a double reefed main to try motorsailing, but it was impractical, as there were nasty little reefs and rocks that made tacking off tricky, and in any case, the diabolical wind would follow us from ahead, anticipating our every move. There was no escape. Sometimes in sailing there is nothing to be done but hunker down and contemplate your navel and hope for better times. THis was one of those days. Mathematical logic clearly states that if you have a positive speed over ground in the direction you want to go, then you will (someday) get there. Well, at sea, someday can seem like forever. Pound, pound, slam, stop dead in the water, pound pound. slam, crash, stop dead in the water,...... and on and on it went. Finally, we got a small lee behind a little island and made better progress. Then SLAM, SLAM, Pound, stop, and on it went. Eventually, we realized we would get to Nanaimo long after dark and a decision had to be made- go on and enter a busy, unfamiliar port in the dark, or seek shelter in one of several possible anchorages in our lee. Once again hubris won out over prudence and we passed up several coves and marinas that were totally exposed to the prevailing wind. Finally, as we got closer to Nanaimo, we got a little shelter behind a point and our speed picked up a bit. Before we could get to the harbor, however, we had to pass through a narrow passage between several rocky islets and a rocky point (in case you hadn't noticed yet, the entire journey has been in the land of rocky islets, rocky rocks, rocky points, etc). With Susan steering, we greased that obstacle, and then had to choose between entering through Departure Bay, with a long traverse of the Nanaimo waterfront and many obstacles, or going around Protection Island and entering the harbor from the other end, closer to our projected destination. We opted for the longer, but less eventful route around protection Island, and after apparently driving right over a buoy in the inky blackness, we tied up in delightful Nanaimo around 10 that evening, for a 16 hour day.
We were exhausted the next day, so we stayed two nights in Nanaimo. Nanaimo is a beautiful city, with great docks, an old town, plenty of bookstores (a reliable metric...), LOTS of great coffeeshops, easy internet access, and good food. We did laundry, took showers, and did more swilling and gorging. I found some REALLY GOOD cinnamon rolls.
Because our hearts are pure, or maybe because we were still tired, we decided to make a short day the next day. Or maybe it was because we had to pass through the eye of the needle at Dodd Narrows, a ridiculously tiny break in a rock wall between two enormous bodies of water. Slack water was predicted for 2 pm, and this is another place not to be trifled with. It is about 5 miles down an easy passage from the marina, so after refueling, we ambled over there and found that half the boats in Nanaimo had had the same idea. On each side of the tiny hole (which is only 200 yards long) boats were milling about waiting for the water to stop gushing out of the gap. Finally, about 45 minutes before slack, one boat could not take it any more and started into the Narrows. Like penguins crowding the edge of an ice floe craning their neck to see if the first one in the water gets eaten by a leopard seal, all the other boats edged closer to the gap. When the first boat (a smallish sailboat) made it, the avalanche was on. With motors blasting, and calls of "securite, securite'" on the VHF, the maritime descendants of Atilla the Hun thundered into the gap, with us among them. It was actually pretty cool. Dodd Narrows is very pretty, intense, and short. On exiting it. one is in a lovely sound, with gorgeous homes on the islands on each side. A short motor and we were anchored at Thetis Island, in Telegraph Harbor for the night.
Telegraph harbor is very pretty, and the night was completely still and very clear. Orion and other constllations blazed from a pitch black sky. We slept like logs. The next morning, as we prepared to depart, a very nice man named Michel stopped by in his runabout to chat. He is a local builder who was on his way across to Vancouver Island to get a coworker. We had a great chat, and then headed out for Roche Harbor and re-entry to the US. Roche Harbor is a destination resort and one of only a few ports of Entry. It was literally FILLED with gigantic yachts. Hundreds. It was amazing. The very nice marina staff dound us a perfect slip, with easy access and exit. We had wonderful showers, and then it was off to the outdoor pub for more swilling and gorging (the astute reader will notice a theme here...). I emailed Commandder's Weather for a forecast of our projected trip down the coast, and it was pretty good. So this morning we got going and are headed for Port Angeles to start our journey out the Strait of Juan de Fuca and down the coast.
I hope to be able to provide daily updates from here, as the swilling and gorging is about to end. Hopefully the moaning and purging will not start. The forecast is for N to NW winds in the 10 to 20 knot range, and moderate seas.
Anyway, that's all for now!
All the best
Michael and Susan
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Sep 14, 2012 - 05:40am PT
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hey there say, guido...
thanks for all the updates... thankssssss so very much!
thanks, michael and susan!
say--, i like this part, in quote:
So this morning we got going and are headed for Port Angeles to start our journey out the Strait of Juan de Fuca and down the coast.
i just painted a small picture of it, :))
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hooblie
climber
from out where the anecdotes roam
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Sep 14, 2012 - 06:09am PT
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thank you for a real education. normally my eyes twitch and skimming ensues when confronted with full screens of text, but your telling read like a novel ... the kind you can't put down.
the three ferry passages i've made between seattle (later bellingham) and juneau, haines skagway included legs out to sitka. this helped shape the images in my mind, but didn't do a thing to prepare me for the stress of vicariously navigating the interplay of hazards with such a lovely boat at stake.
sittin' here with the sated grin of a guy that's just been journeyed
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BASE104
Social climber
An Oil Field
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Sep 14, 2012 - 11:24am PT
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Have someone else put the pictures up but don't look. I'm dying to see them!
Guido. I just got the encyclopedia of offshore cruising, by Dashew. It is about as thick as two bibles.
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guido
Trad climber
Santa Cruz/New Zealand/South Pacific
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Sep 15, 2012 - 07:32pm PT
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Around Cape Flattery and headed south!
"as me old mum used to say...
Mouton Noir has departed Neah Bay, Washington as of 11 am PDT and is now motoring against a really big adverse current towards Cape Flattery. We will be around it in an hour or so, and have nothing south of us except the west coast of the United States. The weather forecast looks very mild considering the possibilities, and we may have to motor quite a bit. We have a full load of fuesl (150 gallons plus 20 in jugs) so we should be fine for any motoring needs.
Presently, the swells are fairly unpleasant- big smooth rollers with a few cross swells to get some corkscrewing action. After a month of mostly smooth water, we will have to contend with mal de mer possibilities. I hope that after we get out of the mouth of the Strait of Juan de Fuca that we will get a reqasonably organized Pacific swell and things will smooth out.
Winds are currently light. Predicted to increase a bit tonight, and maybe get up to 20 knots on Sunday. We hope to be back in the Bay Wednesday. We have about 700 nm to go.
All the best,
Michael"
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Mighty Hiker
climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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Sep 15, 2012 - 07:40pm PT
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We ... have nothing south of us except the west coast of the United States.
That sounds alarming. Perhaps they need a new compass.
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guido
Trad climber
Santa Cruz/New Zealand/South Pacific
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Sep 19, 2012 - 11:33am PT
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Homeward bound:
"Hello everyone,
We are in the final stretch of Mouton Noir's cruise. As I type this, at 2:20 Wednesday, September 19, we are abeam of Cape Mendecino, in California. THis cape has a very bad reputation for horrible weather, but we have really lucked out this time, and conditions are good. We have bben motoring ever since departin Neah Bay, Washington onSeptember 15. Although the hammering drone of the engine is pretty tedious, this passage, at this time of the year has the potential to be extremely difficult, so we will take the annoyance of too little wind for the ease of making progress.
This is not to say that the passage so far has been without it's frustrations. We rarely are able to get more than 6 knots Speed Over Ground. During this trip we have found that the boat just cannot motor very well. THe engine, A Perkins Prima 60 HP is fine. We have a very nice 3 blade Max Prop propeller, but I think it is pitched wrong, and thus is mismatched to the engine HP and RPM. In any case, that will be an issue to be looked at on our return. Not being able to really power-up and jam the boat into a headwind or choppy water has been a real problem at times. Earlier, I wrote about a really miserable day spent going from Comox to Nanaimo. We have had some similar frustrations on this leg. Although the weather forecasts ALL called for light airs and flat water (relatively speaking...), we have had 36 hours of moderately strong Southeasterly wind, along with the short choppy seas that that sort of wind creates, right in our faces. In addition, there appears to be a north setting current along the northern coast between California and Washington of between half a knot and a knot, and our SOG has been reduced to 4 knots at times. This, of course, creates anxiety about whether or not we will have fuel to make it to the Bay or not. Refueling options along this coast are pretty slim. At the moment, it looks like we will make it with a bit to spare. We have 20 gallons of diesel in jugs, and our SOG is picking up now that the winds have finally gotten the memo and are coming from the Northwest. We ARE a sailboat, of course, and potentially can sail the entire leg, but we would need more than the 5 or 6 knots from behind us that is forecast for the rest of the leg. Worst case is we wait for wind and hope we don't run out of beef jerky and poptarts...
Anyway, all is as well as can be expected. We foresee arriving on THurday, September 20 in the daytime. Exactly WHAT time is very hard to pin down right now, as we have about 180 miles to go, and small changes in SOG make a big difference in arrival time, not to mention the currents in the Bay. I will try to update this when we are closer. If anyone from Marina Village can check that our slip, Gate 11, slip 320 is vacant and drop me a note, I would appreciate it. Apparently, Cabaret II, a beautiful boat we met in Hawaii has been staying there temporarily, and while we hate to ask them to leave, we need a place to dock on our return. Our slip is sort of a nightmare to get into, in that one cannot tell if it is empty until committing to the fairway, and the seawall and underwater obstacles on one side of the fairway make turning around impossible. So if the slip is full, there is a disaster in the making, of sorts. Not what we need after a long voyage.
It is a nice evening. I was just sitting in the cockpit listening to some blues and watching the foaming green wake. The bio-luminescence is strong tonight, and it is very dark. Stars are appearing as the fog lifts, and the wake is a beautiful glowing green ribbon, with blue/white sparkles stretching out behind the boat. I love these moments- they make the tedium, stress, anxiety, and hard work all worthwhile. I am savoring these little moments as the big adventure draws to a close.
All the best,
Michael"
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SalNichols
Big Wall climber
Richmond, CA
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Sep 19, 2012 - 01:03pm PT
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Check the buoy reports when you get close guys, it's pretty snotty out there at the moment. Short period, very steep...similar to what we encountered when we got in on Sunday the 3rd. It was the only time in 2500 miles that I was nervous.
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HighTraverse
Trad climber
Bay Area
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Sep 19, 2012 - 01:13pm PT
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The bio-luminescence is strong tonight, and it is very dark. Love being on watch on those nights
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guido
Trad climber
Santa Cruz/New Zealand/South Pacific
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Sep 19, 2012 - 08:58pm PT
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Sh#t happens when you are having fun:
"Hello everyone,
Currently, at 2 pm Wednesday, Sept 19, Mouton Noir is about 135 nm from the Golden Gate. We are headed south along the coast, about 30 miles offshore, between Cape Mendecino and Pt Arena. The weather is fairly calm, with a light following winds from dead astern (of course...). We expect to be back in the Bay tomorrow afternoon.
Although the ETA almost became "not for a long, long time!" a little earlier. We had stopped the engine and headed the boat about 40 degrees off course so that we could sail it for a bit while we checked the oil, transferred fuel, and did a bit of maintenance. Our fuel situation was actually pretty grim. We had enough in the tank to get us within 10 miles of the Gate before we ran out, according to our very careful calculations. It was probably worse than that, though, because it is almost impossible to get the last few gallons out of the tank. We had 20 gallons in reserve, in jugs stored on deck, so we pumped them into the tank. We use a fuel polishing/transfer system so that we never try to pour fuel from a jug into the tank. We stick a stainless tube on the end of a hose in the jugs, which are securely lashed to the rails and then just suck the fuel into the tank, while running it through a Racor 1000 filter to remove any dirt or water. It works great. We added oil to the engine (1.5 qts!) and cleaned up a few things.
Then we tried to restart the motor. UGH.... THe starter motor would spin freely, but the gear that engages the flywheel would not do so, and the engine would not turn over. After the usual breast beating and wailing, I dug out the spare starter motor I carry and installed it. I gather the moans, grunting noises, and cries of despair while doing that noxious job were very amusing. Not to me, of course, but Susan is used to such whining and pretty much ignored it.
Anyway, the engine started on the first rotation of the flywheel after all that, and we are back on track for the Gate, getting beaten up by a current that seems to be running at about a knot northward, in complete disdain of the oceanographers, who to a man claim that the California Current runs south. We were warned of this exotic phenomena by a friendly tugboat captain we ran alongside of for a day or so, but it flies in the face of common wisdom. So we are now motoring down the coast, with about 24 hours to go, rolling around, as the boat is dead downwind, with an apparent wind of 5 knots or so and the mainsail guyed out to one side to try to squeeze a little more speed out.
We are ready to get back and have a shower, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. Moral of the story: assume the worst and carry spare parts...
All the best,
Mr. Optimistic,
Michael"
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HighTraverse
Trad climber
Bay Area
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Sep 19, 2012 - 09:53pm PT
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Hey there Michael.
Perhaps you're too close to shore. The north flowing countercurrent is a known occurrence close to the Marin/Sonoma/Mendocino shore. I've actually used it from Bodega Head to Gualala.
Tack off for a while. Besides you'll have a nicer point of sailing through the Gulf of the Farallones. You don't want those seas on your beam if there's a breeze.
Edit: Guess I should have read more carefully. You're 30 miles out.
Really Really watch the shipping off Pt Arena and Pt Reyes!! I had to avoid a southbound tanker in the middle of a perfectly clear starry night about 5 miles due W of Pt Reyes. Tell you the whole story around the fire at Facelift.
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guido
Trad climber
Santa Cruz/New Zealand/South Pacific
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Sep 20, 2012 - 10:59am PT
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Into the home stretch, the Golden Gate Bridge and FaceLift-Ken have you arranged a slip for Mouton Noir and the Mountoneers yet?
"Hello everyone,
We rounded Point Reyes at 5 am running downwind with just the full main up in 25 knots of breeze from dead aft. Just after transferring fuel and replacing the starter, the wind came up enough to sail and we have had some fast downwind sailing ever since. We are currently (7:15 am) headed right down the middle of the north traffic separation zone in the Gulf of the Farallones, headed for the Pilot Buoy, which we hope to make around 10 am. Then another 10 nm down the shipping channel and we pick up a favorable current all the way back to the slip. We will probably be in around 1-2 pm. Wahoo!!
It has been an amazing journey, from palm trees to glaciers. We have seen wonderful things and had moments of incredible beauty. There are no words to fully encompass the experience. My only regret is that due to the late start, mandated by the Single Handed TransPacstart, we were jammed for time all the way andjust couldn't stay and visit any of these great places for long. The need to keep moving was due to a rapidly closing weather window for getting south. While it is true that one might be able to make the various passages in a fortunate window most of the year, after the middle of September, things start to get very serious, weather wise, and also very cold. We have been just ahead of the end of the season all the way down from Alaska, with marinas and resorts calling it quits for the year within a few days of our passage through the area. I think we have been incredibly fortunate to get through the various choke points, sucjh as the Queen Charlotte Sound passage, Seymour Narrows, Port Angeles to Neah Bay, and so on, with minimal delays and are still within a day of our original planned return.
20 years ago, I came down from Neah Bay in Foxxfyre at the end of September, and spent 6 terrifying days in a howling northerly gale, with continuous winds in excess of 55 knots and monstrous, breaking seas. I never want to be caught in one of those "isobar squeezes" again, and we dodged the bullet this trip.
Returning to land will be a shock. There is a hotly contested presidential election that we have heard almost nothing about, bills to pay, our houses to clean. The list is getting longer every minute. Soon the unpleasant aspects of the trip will fade, and the good memories of beautiful anchorages, quaint marinas, interesting fellow travelers met and meals shared will remain, and the sense of accomplishment at executing a difficult and ambitious voyage will be part of us forever.
I hope you have enjoyed following our adventures. This email address will not be used after September 21. I will be reachable at my usual home address, cmjeffe@attglobal.net after tomorrow.
All the best,
Michael and Susan"
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wayne w
Trad climber
the nw
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Sep 20, 2012 - 12:29pm PT
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Congratulations on a successful Transpac, and a wonderful adventure! Loved reading your account as it played out.
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guido
Trad climber
Santa Cruz/New Zealand/South Pacific
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Sep 20, 2012 - 07:02pm PT
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Congratulations to Mouton Noir and crew, they are back in Dodge after a marathon 3 passage voyage from here to there and back and Guido is signing off:
"Hello Everyone,
As of 1:30 this afternoon, Mouton Noir is back in her slip in Marina Village, Alameda. We had a grand sail for the last 24 hours with a bitterly cold northerly wind. We passed Pt reyes around 5 am, and made it under the Golden Gate Bridge around 11 am and change. The weather in the bay could not have been nicer- warm and sunny. A striking contrast to the refrigerator like conditions we had from Pt Arena south. We even managed to get into the slip without hitting anything!!
All in all, a very successful and interesting trip. THanks to all for the words of encouragement and good wishes. THe emails really brightened up the days (and nights), and provided a touch of home in some very strange places.
I will be signing off now. We are going to clean up the boat a bit and head home for a few days. Then we have to come back and REALLY clean up the boat, and service the engine. Please email me at my home email address, cmjeffe@attglobal.net
All the best to everyone!!
Michael"
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