Desert Island Boats 2

Contd from Desert Island Boats

I spent the better part of this week on a Bristol Channel Pilot Cutter sailing from Lymington to Brixham.
Whilst I lost a bit of the experience to the worst seasickness Ive ever had I did learn a lot about gaff rigs, which, after sailing, was the objective.

Here are some reflections:
Gaffs are easy to drop on peoples heads, heavy to haul up and fall away to leeward.
Gybing is even more dangerous than in a Bermudan rigged boat as the force of the gaff whipping round could bring the mast down. A preventer is essential.
Gaffs seem to require running backstays which add more time, people and rigging to any tack or gybe.

Bristol Channel Pilot Cutters were famously sailed by a man and a boy.
It took at least 5 of us to hold the boat on course, manipulate the mainsheet and sweat and tail the throat and peak halyards to raise the main.
I can only imagine that the boy was a four-armed chimp with a twelve foot reach.

If all this sounds sounds a bit negative then Im misrepresenting the trip. I had a great time. I dont usually sail with a big crew and the teamwork made the sailing even more rewarding. But having that many people on board does give one a lot of time to go in for some serious reflection! So heres some more:

Big bowsprits are a worry. Our skipper was concerned about burying the pole in a big swell, it gave coming alongside in a busy harbour a certain piquancy and because it didnt steve or retract it contributed to the overall length which increases mooring fees but doesnt add speed through waterline length.

Cutter rigs are good. They help you balance the boat. Without the jib set there was considerable weather helm. Raise the jib in front of the staysail and it balances the boat. But if youre worried about burying the bowsprit are you going to put a big bit of cloth, with all the extra strain, on the end of it? You could reef the main to balance the boat. Reefing could be easier. With that gaff and a tree trunk of a boom reefing in a swell could put someone in the drink.

So Im moving towards a Bermudan cutter, perhaps a yawl to reduce the size of the sails and make it easier to balance. A short, retractable, bowsprit isnt out of the question but Im not convinced. It would certainly spread the sail area fore and aft keeping it lower down which would reduce heel.

These are old quandaries, I know. Unfortunately so many sailors seem to advocate certain rigs so devotedly that its impossible to get a really objective analysis. The only solution is to sail them all oneself.

I need to find a double headed Burmudan ketch or yawl with no bowsprit for hire in the UK.

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SABA ISLAND climbing and diving

 Rachel and Bequia our sea dog have finally made it back onboard the Hogfish Maximus joining us In St. Martin. Our daughter Kalessin and her boyfriend Pavlo flew in for a surprise visit so the boat was full. Kalessin has been working on mega yachts since high school and was in between jobs- boats. She met Pavlo over a year ago and they are very much a couple now. While she was here she was to have her 25 th birthday and also celebrate the fun fact that she spent her first Christmas in St. Martin on board our First Hogfish. Lots has changed since then.

Hogfish at anchor on Christmas Day 1990 in St Martins Philipsburg bay with a second hand mainsail made from Jim Melchors Alerts old main. This is the only time I ever had it up.

Pavlo is from Zimbabwe in South Africa . He had just finished his test for Officer of the Watch and the two of them were in Ft. Liqueurdale looking for a yacht job that they both could work on instead of being two yachts passing in the Chichi night. I had not met Pavlo in person yet only via Skype.

Its pretty amazing what determined young people can accomplish today in work and travel. Kalessin has been to 45 countrys so far on her own and Pavlo too. 

The three of us had a few days together before rachel was to arrive. Pavlo grew up in a very interesting country with a very unsteady past as far as economics go. He is a very grounded individual because of this and to get on my good side right off the bat he slipped me a few $ to cover the expenses on board  for the next few days.

 Nice guy giving me 30 trillion Zimbabwe dollars . These bills are real. I just need 30 trillion more to pay for dinner.

The day before Rachel arrived our old sailing mates Tim And Gayle Evans sailed in with their Trintella 43 ketch " Wild Bird" from Barbuda having just crossed the Atlantic from their home port in England. We had met them ten years before on the island of Madera. They had just rescued our dinghy from its own personal Atlantic crossing as Kalessin had not tied it up properly . We next met up a week later when we anchored in the little bay on Graciosa island in the Canary Islands. Tim and Gayle being at bit younger than Rachel and I give us so much energy with their enthusiasm for life. Weather it be projects, work, hiking , swimming, just being around them is life energizing. They were sailing on an old Prout 37 catamaran named " Grace May". We love to hike and mountain climb as do they . We ended up sailing in somewhat of company as their catamaran was faster than the Hogfish with us arriving behind them but with the added benefit of having them giving us all the scoop on what was up having arrived earlier . To even out the playing field in racing from one island to the next and across the Atlantic we came up with a score chart to add up upon arrival. This gave us a fighting chance to beat Grace May at times. Points were awarded and subtracted based on what was seen or done on the trip. Points were given for how many fish caught, whales seen, ships counted, birds named, the best tan, cakes cooked, and so on with points taken away for motoring, we only had an outboard , but they had a proper inboard. Points were also taken away for any yelling , so with our teenage daughter she cost us a few points in that department. This system worked out quite well as it was so much fun to go over all that we had seen and done when we next met up at our next landfall. Grace May always won over all but we were  very close behind. Grace May took 15 days to cross the Atlantic to our 18 days but when all was tallied up we only lost by 12 hours. 

Last summer I got an email from them saying that they were to be sailing back across the Atlantic in their new boat having changed over to a monohull to carry more stuff. The new boat was built in Holland 30 some years ago and had teak decks that were worn out. "  Would I be interested in replacing some parts with new teak and removing all the rest and glassing over and painting ?"

" Sounds  great to us". So the plan was for us to sail down to meet up with them after hurricane season when they arrived over on this side of the pond. We would then go back to our routine of chasing them from port to port to mountain climb , hike and just adventure together. They were to store the " Wild Bird" in Grenada for the hurricane season on land and fly back to England to work over the summer while I did the job on the boat. Then after the hurricane season with both our boats all painted and ready to sail the plan is to sail down wind to Panama to explore via the ABC islands. From there we would sail on up island hopping to Cuba which has just opened up to me as an American and then on back home to our place in the Bahamas. At this point I would crew for  them back across the Atlantic to England or they would leave their ketch behind our house in Pelican Bay for the hurricane season for us to look after. As our kids are grown now we can just about do what ever we want so our plans will most likely detour a bit here and there. With Cuba being open I feel I will be sailing there for quite awhile as it has everything the carribean has but so much more. Plus my family history on my dads side goes back hundreds of years.

Wild Bird passing us to leeward.

With our kids aboard we immediately took off sailing to see SABA.

Motoring into the lee of SABA with a cloud that had run aground on top of the peak giving us shade.

Clouds gone with one of the peaks above that we would hike up to .

Rachel and Bequia at the bottom of the bottom.

In town having a tea with Tim , Gayle and their pattengale Terriers Pip and Gem. Rachel in white hat. Tim and Gayle run in endurance races back home in all weathers so were all kitted out in the right shoes and clothes. I normally hike up hill barefoot and then put my floppys on going down hill if its rocky.

This is the Town of Windward. Very nice place. All the roads were made- poured in concrete. I can only imagine that a lot of this infrastructure was subsidized by Holland at one time. When hiking up the mountain you could see all the hand made terraced walls in rock that were once the subsistence level of farming that went on before tourism was invented.  

Starting the climb to the top of SABA with its 1064 steps and muddy trails going right up to 2987 to the top.

Going up

Steps , steps, and more steps....

One small peak achived . Our dogs go with us on the islands that allow vaccinated dogs to go ashore on.

Rachel , Pavlo, Kalessin, Gayle and Tim with The town of Windward below. Only part way up.

Windward

A bit slippery and muddy at times.

Bequia looking for the others to catch up. That an old growth Mahogany tree in the background. Kinda rare as all the original trees lower down would have been cut down to make room for farming ,lumber, and charcoal for cooking. Most trees you see near the water are only recent growth. 

Rachel standing on top of the peaks marker. This island was a part of the Dutch empire once soo....they claim this to be the highest mountain in Holland.

Looking down into the abyss with constant clouds passing by. Very cold at times. Almost 2,000 strait down from here.

This is the town of " Bottom" with our boats , moored just over beyond the vee in the mountains. 

Pavlo and Kalessin went scuba diving the next day doing two dives ,one to 40 meters. They are both dive masters . We snorkeled around with the water being perfectly clear with fish and turtles about and not sacred at all it being the island is all a park . This was so nice to experience seeing every thing so relaxed. The Bahamians need to think real hard about the future of their waters as its under huge pressure now and could end up like the islands down here that waited to late to stop all the killing.

Pavlo and Kalessin were continually networking via the net during this trip and landed a job where the two of them would be working on the same yacht so it was back to St Martin so they could jet off to their next adventure. What a life for them. 

Iam saving the 30 trillion $ that I got from Pavlo to keep in my wallet in case I need to get out of trouble down here. Could come in handy.

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Circumnavigating Lopez Island

Over Memorial Day weekend we took Belle Starr for a circumnavigation of Lopez Island, the southern most island of the San Juan Island group in northwestern Washington State. Catching the last of the ebb, mid-day on Thursday before the weekend, we sailed east from Port Townsend and tacked in fair to light winds, north along the coast of Whidbey Island.

The plan was to sail to the northeast end of Lopez Island, but having spent most of the day coaxing Belle Starr on light airs, we optioned to cross Rosario Strait and enter the San Juans through Lopez Pass, at the southeast end of Lopez.

The San Juan Islands are notorious for contrary currents with migrating standing waves that challenge a sailors skill. Standing waves resemble the water in a washing machine with no particular direction or design. This condition can occur whenever two tidal currents collide and/or a wind pattern opposes the tidal flow. Its curious to watch a tide rip move over a body of water and suddenly engulf you in what sounds like rapids on a river.

 

As we approached Lopez Pass, we negotiated a tide rip two miles wide and four miles long. With the worthy Stone Horse bucking hither and yon, the pass was difficult to separate from false openings in the islands. Once inside however, the rocky entrance opened into the beautiful and inviting Lopez Sound. Our chart showed there might be good anchorage to the southwest in either Mud Bay or Hunter Bay. As we approached, it became obvious that Hunter Bay was the best choice. We set anchor among several other boats and settled in for a comfortable night, as a full gale developed overhead. A high bluff offered ample protection from the prevailing westerlies.

Since we expected to catch the rising tide to push us north sometime around noon, late morning coffee found us absolutely alone in a bay lovely enough to entice a mariner to stay for a while.

Belle Starr is a thoroughbred however and as the tide turned and a breeze came up from the south, she chaffed at her anchor, ready to run. Under mainsail alone she made an easy four knots toward Spencer Spit, on the northeast side of Lopez Island. Washington State maintains a park at Spencer Spit with several buoys and a low sandy beach for access. Bounded to the east by Frost Island, this anchorage is pretty but the spit doesnt offer much for protection from prevailing winds. The boats we saw anchored there were pulling hard on their moorings so we crept around a headland to Swifts Bay. The tiny community of Port Stanley offered no public shore access, but Swifts Bay was a peaceful spot to spend our second night.

The next day we sailed around Upright Head and southwest through Upright Channel to Friday Harbor, on San Juan Island. The wind shifted from south to west which afforded a comfortable broad reach all day. Friday Harbor is a busy place, offering US customs, food, fuel and entertainment. You can imagine what it was like on a holiday. Tied up at the transient dock seemed threatening as boaters who take their craft out for one weekend a year floundered all around, jockeying for the highest profile. We picked up necessary stores and escaped to an anchorage out of the hustle and bustle. There we found our first wood boats of the trip.

Next morning found us sailing tight tacks into a rising southerly in San Juan Channel. Its a heavily used thoroughfare, so a small boat must be wary. The biggest threat to a gunkholer in the San Juan Islands is not the rocks or the weather, but large private motor boats who apparently determine right-of-way according to tonnage.




An ebb tide in the San Juan Channel flows mightily through Cattle Pass directly into the Strait of Juan de Fuca. With the wind on our nose and the current at our back, we battled our way through mostly submerged rocks and a high chop for two nautical miles before finding a steady breeze on the forward quarter which was to carry us all day, back to Port Townsend.

As a footnote, isnt that Junk interesting? Her skipper was busy, concentrating hard, so I didnt interrupt. But Id like more information about her. If anyone recognizes this craft, please let me know.

I didnt even catch her name...

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Sucia Island Rendezvous Epilogue

We waited in Fossil Bay for the winds to come up, which never really happened. Fluky and unpredictable, some boats had a breeze to waft them home and others resorted to oars.

The small group that stayed on to continue sailing for another week set off on Monday morning on a promising lift which soon dissipated into a dead calm. This was to be the default for several days.

The post Rendezvous tour turned out to be a circumnavigation of Orcas Island. First to Prevost Harbor on Stuart Island, which is a Washington State park with permanent moorings and plenty of trails onshore to explore.




The next stop was Deer Harbor on Orcas Island for showers, hamburgers and fish n chips. My shower was supposed to last for seven minutes but it never stopped. Pure heaven after sitting in the sun on a calm sea for a week.

The last stop was Eagle Harbor on Cypress Island, headed for Anacortes. Lynn, in Katie Mae had peeled off to head for Port Townsend earlier that day and there were only three boats left, the Mother Ship (Baba 30, Gretel II), Jamies Wayward Lass and me, in Saga. Eagle Harbor is an inviting primitive anchorage on a state preserve. Ive often passed it but never stopped. Now I know why. The recreational traffic in Bellingham Channel churned up a confused sea that lashed the anchorage all evening.

Katie Mae had an uneventful trip home, as Lynn reported later:

" I parted company and headed down San Juan Channel; made it as far as Fisherman Bay.
Motoring in, I stopped to admire a 5.5 meter in the outer harbor, and the crew offered me a mooring to hang on overnight, very thoughtful."




"Went in to the Islander marina and had beer and fish tacos, and the ladies at the next table were having way too much fun and pulled me in to their movie -- ah, civilization!"

"Thought Id make it across the Strait to Port Townsend the next day (Friday), but the weather scared me off -- I kept seeing the lightening ground strikes and looking at the cans of gasoline in the cockpit and, and... went back to Watmough Bay, Lopez Island. Saturday morning the thunder had stopped so -- off again. Thick fog in Rosario Strait, but I figured it would clear up."

"It didnt."

"Socked in, with visibility up to 1/4 mile and down to 100 yards all the way to Partridge Point, Whidbey Island; never had a whiff of Smith Island. I was motoring in three foot current waves for the first part; barely making way through the water, but getting 7 to 8 knots over the ground in roughly the right direction. Once in a while I stopped the motor and listened for engines, hearing one at one point. It faded pretty quickly though, and there were no actual incidents."

"Made it to Point Wilson [Port Townsend] in a shade under four hours; not bad for my pretty slow boat (slow pretty boat?) and very glad and grateful for a safe and happy trip."


Jamie Orr, in Wayward Lass, was the last man standing. He headed west in his Chebacco and home to Victoria, BC from Anacortes:

  "I almost got caught in fog in Rosario Strait, but it wandered off up Guemes Channel instead - although at one point a ferry about a quarter mile south was totally invisible. Once inside the islands I decided to try to reach Deer Harbor, Orcas Island for fuel, they close at 7:00 sharp. I made it with only minutes to spare, in fact, after Id pumped my gas and went up to pay for it, they wouldnt let me in, saying they were closed! Unfortunately they figured things out and let me pay after all."




"I stopped for the night at Jones Island where the thunderstorm that had followed me from Rosario Strait finally caught up and dumped a few gallons of rain in the bilge before passing on."

"Id had no wind all the way and nothing was changed at 4:30 next morning when I hauled up the anchor. But the tide was helping to the tune of up to 2 1/2 knots down Haro Strait so it was a quick ride home."

So ends Sucia Island Rendezvous 2012. There is a lot more in the telling, but you will have to come along and see for yourself. The written word does not do justice to the beauty of being becalmed under a mossy granite ledge with eagles wheeling and crying overhead while Dolls porpoises feed playfully on herring under your keel. Time is of no consequence and minutes pass into hours unremarked.

In case you missed them, there are more photos on Dorymans Flickr site.

Back home now and its another life. Some good news for small boat enthusiasts coming up - please stay tuned!

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