Monday, February 14, 2011

Favorite Anchorages - Squirrel Cove, BC

I'm always happy to anchor at Squirrel Cove, BC.  I've either conquered "Crossing the Monster" (see previous post about crossing Georgia Strait) on my way N, or it's my last stop in Desolation Sound as I head S.  It seems that there's always room for just one more boat when you arrive late.  I always stay more than one night, just to relax and enjoy this very special anchorage - and so do many other boaters.  Squirrel Cove is one of those anchorages where it can be a party one day and offer quiet solitude the next.  I remember one year slowly motoring in my dinghy by a sailboat whose cockpit was filled with folks.  One was playing a guitar, another a recorder, and the rest singing.  I slowed, and said, "You know Red River Valley?"  Next thing you know they were playing and singing this old west favorite of mine.  I suspected as much and I was a bit sly, since I packed my harmonica with me hoping to join this party.  They invited me aboard and for the next hour I was part of this impromptu folk gathering.  It was great fun.  That's one reason why I enjoy Squirrel Cove.

"Dog Poo" Island
The anchorage is rather large and will suit almost any type of boat large or small.  During the height of the boating season in August I have counted more than 100 boats anchored throughout the cove.  Some prefer to anchor in the outer bay, whereas I prefer to anchor farther in.  There's lots of little nooks and crannies to anchor.  My favorite spot is just W of "Dog Poo Island."  I call it that because it seems everyone walks their dog on this island, including me.  Just be careful, the many oyster shells lining the shore can slice open your inflatable or badly cut your dog's paw.  By the way, it is illegal to harvest any oysters.

I have done a shore tie, but then other times I just use my anchor without a shore tie.  The bottom is a very sticky (and smelly) grey mud which will hold you fine, provided you have enough scope.  The inner bay depths are around 30 - 40' and around 60' deep in the outer bay.  Only once have I dragged anchor in Squirrel Cove and that was because of some very nasty westerlies that entered along with an unusually high tide.  Generally though the entire cove is sheltered from any strong winds, waves, and currents.  The only waves are from a rare few inconsiderate boaters who feel they can race through the anchorage. 

During the summer the cove fills with hundred of thousands of "moon jellies."  There's a resident population of Canada Geese which in the evening travel from boat to boat begging for hand-outs.  The ravens with their deep croak will call reminding you you're far from civilization.  Bald eagles will perch in the tops of trees.  And, I've seen an occasional otter or martin swimming along shore.  One evening I remember sitting out on deck listening to a Nighthawk feeding far above me.  Again a reminder that you're away in the wilderness.

The activities in Squirrel Cove are actually many for an anchorage in Desolation Sound.  You can order bread, or sticky buns, or a fresh fruit pie from the floating local bakery located in the cove.  You order the evening before and the next morning you can pick up your fresh hot baked item.  The Squirrel Cove bread is particularly good.  The favorite late afternoon activity is to slowly cruise through the myriad of anchored boats via your dinghy through the cove, and then once you're out of the cove go for broke like a madman to the Squirrel Cove Store about 1 nm away.  The store has liquor, ice, ice cream, fresh produce, meats, and a wide variety of groceries.  You can even get a marine part or fishing gear.  If you're not in the mood to cook, they've even got a small restaurant.  We always buy some fresh Squirrel Cove roasted coffee for the trip.  If your dinghy is a bit more stout, you can journey to Teakerne Arm to go swimming in beautiful Cassel Lake; or go to Refuge Cove for a hamburger.  At high tide you can either take your kayak or dinghy into the small lagoon at the head of the cove.  When you enter the lagoon it's another world away.  Just be careful not to get stranded by staying too long which is easy to do. One hot day, I anchored my dinghy right at the base of the lagoon outfall and enjoyed the mist to keep me cool.  You can also hike over to Von Donop Inlet on nice a wooded trail.  Or you can go swimming in the cove, the water is very warm. (The whole cove is a no discharge zone.)  There's just so many things to do.

When I am "upcoast" I always stop at Squirrel Cove. It's a definite favorite of mine.

Squirrel Cove is about 22 nm miles to the Yucultas, 24 nm miles to Campbell River, 12 nm from Prideaux Haven, and 12 nm miles to Lund.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Summer Trip Planning - Canadian Rapids

As I continue planning my 2011 upcoast trip, it is important to consider the many tidal passes that you might have to navigate. A tidal pass is a narrow and relatively shallow passage that has a lot of current. At the peak of the current flow - ebb or flood - there are numerous water hazards which can dangerously affect your boat - whirlpools, boils (rising water), and overfalls (waterfalls & large standing waves). As a result, most tidal passes should only be navigated at slack to be safe. Slack is that very short time between flood and ebb, or ebb and flood where there is no current and lasts only minutes. Some slack periods last only moments. I remember once watching a stick slowly moving through Nakwakto Rapids in one direction, slowly come to a stop, and then reverse direction all in less than a minute. Less than an hour later the rapids were so bad that it would be dangerous for my boat the MV Independence to navigate.

When navigating a tidal pass at any time other than slack you need to know what your boat can do and what do in case of an emergency. Although rare, there have been incidents where a boat traversing a tidal rapid has been driven to shore, collided with other boats or objects, or worst of all - capsized! So timing your arrival to hit slack is important. That means knowing the currents leading up to slack, planning an appropriate anchorage, and knowing how fast your boat travels. If heading into current you don't make much way, and the current gets worse and worse. Once, I was actually going backwards - losing ground, while going forwards! Or worse yet, you get caught in the current which is going with you and you lose your steerage - scary.

The passes that I treat with great respect, that is I generally only travel through them at at slack (or near slack) are:
  • Dodd Narrows just S of Nanaimo. There are some overfalls and whirlpools, but the biggest concern is the amount of boat traffic through this narrow passage.
  • The Yuculta's (pronounced Yew-Caw-Tahs) - Yuculta, Gillard, and Dent rapids. There are boils, whirlpools, and very strong currents in these rapids. Boat traffic can be a concern.
  • Upper Rapids (Okisollo Channel). Large overfalls (>5' at times) and very strong currents.
  • Surge Narrows (Okisollo Channel). Narrow passage with very strong currents.
  • Skookumchuck Narrows (Sechelt Inlet). Large overfalls, very strong currents, boils and whirlpools.
  • Seymour Narrows (Discovery Passage). Boils, whirlpools, and very strong currents.
  • Nakwakto Rapids (Seymour & Belize Inlets). Boils, whirlpools, and very strong currents.

Other rapids that I respect but are willing to travel at any time because I have years of experience and knowledge with them are:

  • Malibu Rapids outside of Princess Louisa. Strong currents, some overfalls, navigation issues, and other boat traffic.
  • Greene Point Rapids (Cordero Channel). Strong currents, boils, and small whirlpools.
  • Whirlpool Rapids (Wellbore Channel). Strong currents, boils, and small whirlpools.
  • Chatham Channel. Currents, narrow channel, and shallow areas.
  • Lower Rapids (Okisollo Channel). Currents & some boils.

My strategy for all of these tidal passes is to approach them while the current is going against me, meet them at slack and then ride the current through on the other side of the pass. This is particularly so when traveling those tidal rapids in and around Desolation Sound. Because of heavy boat traffic and rough water I generally avoid Discovery Passage which is just N of Campbell River. Discovery Passage seems to really funnel the NW winds down through it. When the current is ebbing (going N) and there's a strong NW wind - it is a recipe for rough water that I absolutely avoid. The longer route is via the Yuculta's and upper Desolation Sound. Generally the NW winds don't enter these channels, and the scenery is so very nice. When traversing this route N I have a series of rapids to traverse - Yucultas, Greene Point, and Whirlpool. I time my arrival to the first rapid - Yuculta - when it is at the end of the flood. I then make Gillard right at slack, and ride the ebb through Dent, Greene Point, and Whirlpool Rapids getting a great "downhill" ride averaging well over 7+ knots.

When cruising S (again I avoid Discovery Passage because of the chance of rough seas and boat traffic), I generally travel through Whirlpool and Greene Point the day before and then go through the Yucultas separately. A trick I learned from fishing boat skippers when traveling S on your way to the Yucultas, is to travel as close as you can to the Sonora Island shore and ride the back eddies instead of plowing head-long into the current mid-channel. At times I am not more than 20' away from shore but the depth is more than 60'. I've passed boats traveling in mid-channel not doing more than 3-4 knots, while I'm riding the back eddies and traveling 7+ knots. Woo hoo!

Anchorages approaching the Yucultas are limited. When cruising N, you've got a great anchorage in Squirrel Cove (Cortes Island) which is about 20 nautical miles away - down Calm Channel and Lewis Channel. There are a few mediocre anchorages which are nearer - Florence Cove (Hole In The Wall), or Frances Bay (Raza Passage) which will do in settled weather. When cruising S, you can stay at Blind Channel Marina, Shoal Bay Marina, Cordero Lodge or anchor in Forward Harbor (Wellbore Channel) or Cordero Cove (near Greene Point Rapids).

For me cruising through these tidal passages makes for exciting and challenging fun. If done right, you won't even know the danger you passed through. For 2011 the date for me to travel through the Yuculta's are on July 24. I will raise anchor from Squirrel Cove at 8:30 AM, travel the 22 nm at an expected average speed of 5.5 knots putting me at Gillard Pass right about 12:45 PM - perfect. I will then ride through Dent with a push, down Cordero Channel with a push, and if I want - I haven't decided yet - go further through Greene Point and Whirlpool Rapids all with a good push. I'll save time and money (fuel).

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Summer Trip Planning - Crossing the Monster

Whenever planning a trip "upcoast" you need to carefully consider crossing "the Monster." Walt Woodward in his excellent little book - "How To Cruise to Alaska Without Rocking The Boat" devoted nearly a whole chapter to crossing the Strait of Georgia, which he called the Monster. After 21 years of experience, I have nothing but respect for this leg of the upcoast journey. A rough crossing can affect the whole rest of the trip.

What makes this body of water so feared or respected? Mostly it has to do with the geography. It's a large inland sea trapped between two mountain ranges - the mountains on Vancouver Island and the Coast Range on the mainlaind. These mountains form a venturi, or funnel for the wind that either comes from the NW or SE. Since the summer Pacific High forms in the Gulf of Alaska, I worry more about NW winds although you do get the occasional storm that will bring SE winds. These "moderate northwesterlies" can blow relentlessly for days on end. My observation is that the winds are always worse on the Vancouver Island side than the mainland side.

The winds are commonly worst in the early morning, dying down around mid-day, and then again picking up late in the evening or at night. So keep that in mind. The best tool for planning to cross the Strait is listening to the Canadian Weather Radio on VHF WX1 - Comox Coast Guard Radio. It is updated daily at 4 AM, 10:30 AM, 4 PM, and 10 PM, although the spot observations are updated hourly. I carefully listen to the weather observations for the following places:
  • Entrance Island - E of Nanaimo
  • Ballenas Island - W of Nanaimo
  • Sisters Island - W of Nanaimo, and mid-Georgia Strait
  • Merry Island - N of Nanaimo, and on the mainland side
  • Cape Lazo - Vancouver Island side
  • Grief Point - Near Powell River, mainland side
The wind reports at Cape Lazo, Sisters Island and Ballenas Island will give you the best picture of crossing the Strait. If the wind is blowing greater than 15 knots you're in for a rough ride - seas 3' or more. If they're blowing greater than 20 knots you're in for a terrible ride - seas 4' or more. Ugh! Another complicating factor is if Area WG - "Whiskey Golf" is active. Area WG is the torpedo testing range and any entry into this area when active is strictly "verbotten." No exceptions. Again the Weather Radio will tell you if "Whiskey Golf" is active. If so, you've got to stay clear of it by traveling W to Ballenas Island (via Ballenas Channel) and then make your way N across the Strait. If a strong NW is blowing that will put you "beam to" the NW waves & swell for about 5-8 nautical miles. "Whiskey Golf" is generally not active on Sundays.

My route, depending on winds... if 15 knots or greater I stick close to the Vancouver Island shore out of Nanaimo and will duck in behind the Winchelsea Islands. If the winds are too strong and the seas too rough I'll stay at a great nearby marina - Schooner Cove - and wait for the winds to die down. If not, I will turn just E of Ballenas and make for E end of Lasqueti Island (towards Squitty Bay). That will put me in beam seas to the NW waves and swell for only about 5 nm. I'll then duck into one of the many anchorages in and around Bull Passage of Lasqueti and Jedediah Islands.

If the wind is less than 10 knots and Area WG is not active, I will make for either the E end of Lasqueti or Texada Island (Upwood Pt.) and then travel up Sabine Channel or Malaspina Strait. If I choose to do Sabine Channel, the forecast has to be for winds less than 10 knots because once you get past Lasqueti Island you're open to the full NW open waters of Georgia Strait. You'll save about 8 nm going this route to Desolation Sound. Otherwise I'll travel up Malaspina Strait - careful, once you round NW point on E side of Texada Island the NW winds and seas can be terrible. Again, plan accordingly.

What I really like to do is leave Nanaimo, make a direct route to Bull Passage of Lasqueti Island, anchor, and then finish crossing "the Monster" for the next day. The whole time I am listening over and over again to the weather radio. This cruise plan breaks up the Georgia Strait crossing to 5 hours one day and about 9 hours the next day. And, there are so many places to enjoy and explore in and around Jedediah Island - its beautiful.

Finally, I always try to plan riding the flood when going up the Georgia Strait. There's not too much current but every little bit helps. Below is the tide chart for July 22 outside of Powell River. My plan here is to leave early from my anchorage in Bull Passage area and then ride the flood all the way to Squirrel Cove.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Summer Trip Planning - Olympia to Friday Harbor

A friend sent me an Email saying, "Hey want to go to the San Juans the last week of July?" This started me thinking about summer cruising. I took the suggestion to heart and the first thing I did was analyze the currents. I can't start a trip on a Friday - superstition and bad luck you know - or so they say. So the trip would have to start on Saturday, July 23. So I looked at currents for the Tacoma Narrows.


Hmm? There's a 2.5 knot flood at about 9:15 AM. That means I would be fighting the current all the way from about Johnson Point to Kingston. Yes, I know the current always flows N in Colvos but I still wouldn't be getting the "pull" that I want. My average speed instead of 6+ knots would be about 4.5 knots or less. Then the next day to continue the cruise up Admiralty Inlet I would be fighting the current again. Nope, July 23 is not going to work for a trip up the Sound. What about next Saturday, July 30? Or the previous Saturday, July 16? Lets take a peek at the currents...

x
Wow, what a difference a week makes. For Saturday, July 16, there's a 4+ knot ebb just past 10 AM. And for Saturday, July 30, there's a 3.8 knot ebb at about 9 AM. I'm going to select July 16th because it is about an hour later which will last me longer for the next day when I cruise up Admiralty Inlet (weather permitting). And, if the ebb is that strong I will get one heck of a "downhill" run from both Olympia to Kingston and from Kingston to Point Wilson by Port Townsend. If I time it right I will hit slack at about Smith Island and ride the flood down San Juan Channel right into Friday Harbor. Weee-oooo what a ride. I did the same thing on last year's trip from Kingston to Friday Harbor. Rode a big ebb current up Admiralty Inlet out into the Strait, and then rode a big flood through Cattle Pass, San Juan Channel and right into Friday Harbor. Traveled 53.1 nm in just over 7 hours and averaged 7.4 knots! Here's a log entry from last year, "The ebb pulled us along very nicely, at times we were making 10+ knots, most of the time we were doing over 9+ knots."

Now the crew and others don't always understand this current stuff. How can I present it in a way that they'll understand? I'll analyze the trip from Kingston to Friday Harbor if we did it on Sunday, July 17 versus Sunday, July 24.
x

I'll point out if we left Kingston Cove Marina at approximately the same time, on Sunday, July 17 we would arrive Friday Harbor at just past 3 PM. That's a respectable time to have a nap, a cocktail and snacks before dinner, and have a relaxing dinner. Whereas if we cruised up a week later we would not arrive Friday Harbor until almost 7 PM, be late for dinner, stressed because of 3 or more hours of cruising, and be tired. The difference between cruising a week later is over a 3.6 hours! Wait, there's more... cruising time equals fuel used and wear and tear. The difference in fuel cost alone would be $32 or more! (2 gph x 3.6 hrs x $4.5o/gal. diesel) So, picking the right time to make a cruise is important in not only time, but cost too. I think this will work to convince the crew.

I will also have to work on convincing them about mid July versus end of July. I will mention the following points:
  • More people and crowds at anchorages and marinas;
  • More daylight (days are longer in July than in August) to do things; and,
  • August is generally known as "fogust" and they hate cruising in the fog.

Hmm? Now I got to think more about, "How far N?" and "What destinations?"

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Happy New Year

We've had a lot of rain recently. Although it's not raining at the moment. In the past couple of days we've had more than an inch of rain. Its the 14th of January and monthly rainfall totals are over 3.6 inches. As I walk down the dock I notice the water in the marina looks like coffee with cream. There's small little clumps of foam moving northward at about 1 knot. These bits of foam are left overs from the outfall from the Deschutes River entering the sound about a mile south. I check the lines and notice that the boat is definitely pulling at the mooring lines in the direction of the current. I pull back the boat and re-tie the lines.

I've got a new neighbor - a big behemoth of powerboat. Its an older wooden powerboat. I can tell its wood because of a bunch of little dry rot spots right below the gunnel. The owner is aboard and frantically trying to cover his boat up with a blue tarp. Unfortunately he's taken over the finger pier with containers of junk. Hmm? A autopilot binnacle, some bits of frayed canvas, wiring, and other boating stuff. I move them over to his side of the finger pier so I can easily get on and off my boat. He doesn't notice, or pretends not to notice? I sigh and think another neighbor. I board the MV Independence and notice that I still have a view looking N and NE - good.

Another neighbor from a Grand Banks 32 down the dock knocks and says "hello." I welcome him aboard. He's new to boating. He tells me of an adventure of running out of fuel right in the middle of Rich Passage. Oh my. As he tells me of his adventure I gently tap the wood on the MV Indenpendence hoping that this never happens to me. We compare fuel systems and engines between our boats and then filled with this new information he departs. As he departs and I say "good-bye" my neighbor appears and we go through some introductions. He's Joe and he's tied up next to me because he got evicted from the boat house he was using. My GB32 friend tell's him that I'm the "patriarch of the dock." I simply smile and say, "Yep, I guess. Been here for over 20 years. Welcome." That's the end of the conversation.

I thought I'd now have time to do my weekly reflection but another set of boating neighbors appear. Oooh, they bring me a gift - a bottle of Pyrat rum. I gladly welcome them aboard. I say, "Why the rum?" He replies, "I've left you several times the little brass tag that comes with the bottle of rum on your door handle. So this time I thought I will leave you the bottle." (I got to remember to leave the little brass tag from this bottle on his boat.) I offer to open the rum, but he's quick to offer a shot of Irish whiskey. Wow, gift liquor and more free booze. We fill the little brass ration cups with a tot of whiskey, heft a toast to friends, health, and a good new year. We then spend about an hour talking of retirement, work, music, and exchanging memorable Farside cartoons. After awhile I bid them adieu. My new bottle of Pyrat rum does not fit within in my liquor locker. Hmm?

I do have a few moments of reflection and wonder how fate arranges some days that are filled with neighbors and conversation while other days are quiet. Not sure how that happens. I run through a few routine checks on the boat. I notice the following:

  • The pole holder I had mounted had become "dismounted" and was now laying on the deck.
  • The line that holds my radar reflector had parted.
  • There's quite a mess of digested mussel shell bits all over my deck. What a mess.
  • There's quite a bit of water in the bilge and it needs pumping. I don't notice any leaks and hope it is from the rain.
  • I need to empty my "fuel filter drip container."

I made sure to update the log since I had come down a couple of times previously and started the boat to ensure everything is "ok." The engine started fine each and every time, even once when it was quite cold out.

Oh, as I leave I notice my neighbor had repositioned the two containers of junk once again to interfere with my side of the finger pier. I contemplated sending them to Davey Jones locker, but the joviality of the evening keeps me from being so cruel. I merely reposition them back to his side of the finger pier. I'm sure when I return again later I will find something else.

Stats: running time (idling in place in gear) ~60 minutes, ending engine hours 6078.5.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

November - Ugh!

The wind is blowing a gale from the NW and it's raining hard. It's blowing so hard I'm having to hold on to my hat as I walk down the dock to where the Independence is moored. There's even one foot waves in the marina. Suddenly the sky turns pink and the houses above the marina which were so warmly lit now are now dark. I look at the marina and there's still power. Another gust comes and the dock is rocking from the wind and the waves. I make it down to the boat cold and wet. I check the air temperature and it is a chilly 45 F. I plug in a small space heater to provide some warmth to the cold boat. I check the bilge and decide to start the boat. I hit the switch and about 12-14 seconds later the diesel comes to life with a roar. I reduce the RPMs to 650 and put it in gear and let the boat run in the slip. I am so happy that she fires up so readily, especially on this cold, windy, and dark night - not that I'm going anywhere. I gently pat the helm and say, "Good dependable girl." I turn on some lights, pour me a couple of fingers of whiskey and ride out the storm. I am amazed at how much the boat is rocking even though it is in the slip. Even above the idle of the engine I can hear the wind and the rain hitting the covered moorage. I'm glad I'm in the Independence.

I let the boat run for about 30-40 minutes until the engine warms up. There's a forecast in the next few days for snow and bitter cold. I figure this little run in the slip will help. As I sit and let the engine run I once again dream of summer cruising instead of dark, cold November days. Outside the wind continues to blow hard, and the rain continues to come down hard. I'm not looking forward for the long walk up the dock back to the car. I re-checked the air temperature inside the boat and now its a balmy 48 F. The running of the engine has warmed the boat up 3 degrees. I take the boat out of gear, let it idle for a few seconds, then rev the engine up to 1,500 RPM for about 10 seconds, then back down to idle for 30 seconds, and then hit the kill switch. Silence except for the outside wind and the noise of the rain hitting the covered moorage. I decide to pour just a bit more whiskey into my cup - I'm not ready to leave. I notice that the rain has stopped. I quickly finish my whiskey and close up the boat.

I start my walk up the dock and look at the hillside, all the homes are still in the dark. I can see candles flickering in the windows. I hope the power is on at home. A gust of wind almost rips my hat off my head. Oh how I dislike November.

Stats: running time (idling in place in gear) ~30 minutes, ending engine hours 6077.5.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Starting Her Up

I love diesel engines, especially the heart of the MV Independence. That big 6 cylinder, naturally aspirated, Ford-Lehman is a gem. She's got well over 6,070 hours on her and she's never missed a beat. To my credit, I keep the oil changed - every 100 hours with the crankcase, and every 50 hours for the injection pump, and do due diligence on the engine maintenance (e.g., impeller changed each season, zincs in the transmission & oil cooler changed, check all hoses, good fuel, etc.). And, my reward always a "rrrrr-rumble" and a quick start. How rewarding.

Yesterday, I came down and "started her up." I let her idle for a bit, then I decreased the RPMs, put her in gear, and let her warm up in place in the slip. The boat lurched forward in the slip stopping when her mooring lines would let her go no further. I simply sat and enjoyed a sip of whisky while the engine purred along and the prop wash made small ripples across the marina. I think somebody wondered what was going on because I saw a guy come quickly up the dock, rush to my stern and look in the water. Seeing the boat in the slip and trying to move forward must have concerned him; causing him to wonder what was going on. He looked inside my boat to ensure that all was well. I gave him a nod and wink, and he simply walked away. I don't think he still knew what was up because he was shaking his head. Oh well.

I watched an empty jug on the deck move along because of the engine vibration. First towards me then unexplicable then away, and then again towards me - interesting dance. I put the jug away and heard other things making music from the engine's vibration. I stepped out on deck myself, walked back to look at the prop wash and made sure there was water coming out of the exhaust. Stopping enough to think that all the mussels and barnacles (little bastards) on the dock enjoyed the prop wash. The mooring lines holding the Independence at bay were all taught and snug. All was well.

I returned to the lower helm station, watched the temperature gauge slowly climb to a point where it just stopped - well below any marks on the gauge that would cause me alarm that something was overheating. I watched the hour meter "tick" away counting the engine's time alive. The tachometer was steady at 650 RPM. I waited until 0.4 hours ticked away, pulled the lever to take the engine out of gear and then slowly raised the throttle to about 1,300 RPMs. Again all sounded well and good. A quick peek down into the bilge and again all looked good. I reduced the RPMs to 550, let it idle there for another minute, and then hit the kill switch. The engine alarm promptly sounded with an annoying buzz and I turned off the key. Silence. One more time I peeked down into the engine room and all looked good - no drips, no runs, no errors. I closed the engine lid and returned to my chair, took a sip of my whisky, looked out the front windows, and dreamed more of journeys past and some to come.

Outside the day was cloudy and cool, but the water was almost perfectly calm. It would have made for a nice afternoon cruise. Rather I sat and puttered about inside - stowing this & that away, checking a few things, and finishing my two fingers of whisky. It was another nice afternoon aboard the Independence.

Stats: running time (idling in place in gear) ~25 minutes, ending engine hours 6076.5.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Good Food & Good Company

Sunday, Sept. 6, 2010
I took Hank & Rocky - the dogs - to the beach so they could do their "dog stuff." Of course they ran all over the beach with Hank almost barking continuously. I'm sure other boats anchored in the bay wanting to sleep in enjoyed hearing dog barking. Oh well it was after 0800 anyway. Dave & Mary rowed over and watched the dogs play too.

Afterwards I went over and enjoyed a cup of coffee on the MV Explorer with Rob & Sandy. As I said earlier, I hadn't seen Sandy in over 30 years so we had a lot of catching up to do. We talked of then and now, and of course about boats. I invited them over for our traditional boat breakfast of corned beef hash.

Dave & Mary came, as well as Rob & Sandy. The galley was full with six (6) adults and two dogs. Kim had made a healthy batch of corned beef hash that was excellent. We sat around, supped together and chatted. It was a great time. By 1200 Dave & Mary left to make preparations to leave back to Olympia; they were going to sail back. Sandy & Rob stayed aboard for a bit longer and we continued to chat. Finally we bid them adieu and we too made preparations for leaving.

The wind was blowing about 12 knots from the SW but the sky seemed to be clearing. Although I knew that rain was on the way. It was tempting to stay another night at McMicken but we decided to head home. We weighed anchor at 1320. We cruised down Case Inlet, following the eastern shore of Hartstine Island until we spied the SV Mary O' Farrell under full sail in Dana Passage. Dave was enjoying the wind and a fair current. Prior to meeting the SV Mary O'Farrell I was doing 8 knots. I slowed down, circled the Mary O' Farrell just for fun, and then we motored on. There were quite a few sailboats out all enjoying the fair winds. It seemed that as we motored down Budd Inlet the wind abated a bit. There was no sign of any of the boating crowds because the tug boat races were long over. All that remained were the racing course markers. Kim met me at the dock because we had the Zipper. We got into our slip at 1400. We quickly unloaded the boat and then I sent Kim on her way back over to East Bay Marina so I could haul the Zipper.

It was a fun Labor Day weekend that makes boating oh so much fun and memorable. I really enjoyed meeting up with both the MV Explorer and the SV Mary O'Farrell.

Stats: 13.6 nm, average speed 5.1 knots, running time 2:39, ending engine hours 6076.1

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Zipperin' to Allyn

Saturday, Sept. 4, 2010
Woke to cloudy skies and a brisk SW wind. Although for most of the night it was calm. After breakfast I cleaned up the Zipper. It was still filthy from our recent summer trip up the coast. So with lots of elbow grease and some scrubby pads I made her presentable.

We then went over to the SV Mary O'Farrell and picked up Dave & Mary for a Zipper trip to Allyn. We had a full crew contingent on the Zipper - Dave, Mary, Hank, Rocky, Kim and myself. The cruise up to Allyn was smooth for the most part with only rippled seas. We tied up to the Allyn dock and walked into town hoping to get some "Bubba's Big Burgers" but found it closed. So we walked farther down to "Leonard K's" and ordered some burgers and fish & chips to go. We walked back to the Port of Allyn beach front park and ate. While we ate we noticed that the wind from the SW was building - it was no longer rippled but about a 1' chop. We boarded the Zipper and started out neglected to notice that Hank's dog life jacket had been blown out of the boat. We flew S down Case Inlet at 20 knots riding over the tops of the chop.

We motored over into Jarrell's Cove where I was hoping to meet up with Sandy and Rob in the MV Explorer. Jarrell's Cove was quite crowded with all the dock space and mooring buoys taken. As we were motoring into Jarrell's Cove the MV Explorer had come in behind us. They looked for anchoring options and I encouraged them to join us in anchoring over at McMicken Island. Fortunately they decided to change their plans and join us. The wind had abated some for our quick cruise from Jarrell's Cove back to McMicken Island.

The MV Explorer arrived about 45 minutes later and anchored just behind the Independence. I hadn't seen Sandy in about 30 years and it was good to re-meet and catch up. The wind was brisk and cool from the SW.

Dave & Mary from the SV Mary O' Farrell came over for supper at 1900. We had a multi-course meal - smoked salmon appetizer, then my grilled spicy Vindaloo pork chops, corn on the cob, finished off with spicy red pepper scallop fettucine. It was a fun feast.

Zipper stats: 23 nm, average speed 15.1 knots, running time 1:42

Friday, September 3, 2010

McMicken Island Bound

Friday, Sept. 3, 2010
We launched the Zipper over at East Bay and then I drove the truck & empty trailer over to the marina and met Kim. She had Hank the dog as her crew mate for the short voyage, and I had Rocky the little demon dog for mine. This was going to be his first boat trip adventure.

We left the West Bay dock at 1450 for a Labor Day weekend trip to McMicken Island. Weather is mostly sunny and warm but the barometer is falling and there's mare's tails in the sky. I am reminded of the saying, "Mares tails and mackerel scales make lofty ships carry low sails." This means the weather is going to change. But for now it's a beautiful day. There's a 10+ knot breeze out of the WSW. Olympia is crowded because of the Harbor Days celebration and Tug Boat races.

When we left the tide was high, or near high, so we cruised straight up Budd Inlet instead of following the channel and going W around Olympia Shoal. We still stayed well E of the Olympia Shoal. Several other boats were plotting the same course which generally should be avoided because of shoal water. There were lots of boats out and boat traffic - boats coming into Olympia and Budd Inlet and boats leaving. We rounded Boston Harbor, made our way up Dana Passage and then N into Case Inlet. The cruise was quite enjoyable and uneventful.

We dropped the hook at 1730 and in 25' of water well W of McMicken Island, or about half-way between the island and the Hartstine Island shore. We were well N of the tombolo that connected McMicken Island to Hartstine and with the tide so high you saw no sign of it. There's a brisk SW breeze blowing through the anchorage. There's six boats here not counting the Independence.

After arriving I noticed that my depth sounder was not always working. I checked it and found that it was "chock-a-block" full of mussels to about the size of a volleyball. I layed down on the swim step and removed the little bastards - "no more free rides for you!"

We had a leisurely evening waiting for our friends in the SV Mary O'Farrell to arrive. They arrived just before 2000 and we met for a quick drink but we were all pretty tired, so the event was short lived. The SV Mary O'Farrell was anchored about 100 yards W of us.

Stats: 13.0 nm, average speed 5.4 knots, running time 2:44, ending engine hours 6073.2