Blown into Vancouver

July 6, 2013

Hale Passage where murky waters of Bellingham Bay meet

inflow from the Strait of Georgia. The Frazier River water

is much dirtier looking.

We extricated ourselves by backing out the fairway, odd, but not too hard in a windless early morning. The calm continued through Hale Passage alongside Lummi Island, a channel we’d never traveled. Lummi island is pretty and scantly inhabited on the east side. Bellingham YC has an outstation there and we saw a quarry and a cute little ferry crossing as we pushed into a two knot ebb.

At the end of the island our rubbernecking ceased abruptly. Steep seas built up over the local shoals by a brisk northerly smacked our bow. Sloppy going, aka bashing, had us making sail in a hurry. Poor Charlie had to run around through the spray on deck removing the flapping sail cover and stops. Once we had a double-reefed main working for us, we found motorsailing about 40 degrees off the wind pretty comfortable. This worked with occasional tacks.

Cherry Point refinery with tanker.

Sightseeing included our first view of the Cherry Point refinery, not half as big as the ones at Anacortes. Otherwise the coast there is mostly trees.

We enjoyed the lee of Point Roberts but about 1:15 were pounding again out in the Strait of Georgia. Finally around the bulge of the Frazier River Delta, we headed off, set the jib and sailed for the last 3 hours. Still with plenty of wind, we averaged about 8 knots!

Even on a windy day, from English Bay Vancouver is a gorgeous city.

The river water mixing with the sea produces a brownish murky soup that feels spooky. How could water that dirty be over 400 feet deep? Each outlet of the Frazier adds its own tint to the shades of brown. We were thrilled to enter Burrard Inlet where the water was for a while a reassuring bluer brown. However the wind picked up to 30 knots, making furling lively. None of the usual sailing fleet were in evidence. In fact the only hardy souls on the water were windsurfers.

Running down Burrard Inlet in late afternoon, all roped in.

Although at 6 p.m. there’s plenty of day left, the sun was low enough in the sky that facing west and looking through the salt crusted windshield, I was blinded as we entered the Royal Vancouver YC marina. It was tough to figure out the slip location. Charlie also squinting into wind and sun, was really unsure where to go when some nice folks shouted to us from their cockpit. They pointed, jumped off and ran for the far end of the marina to meet us. I just aimed toward where they were heading. When I saw the slip, I didn’t want to try to wedge the boat in next to the other sailboat in the adjacent slip, but with two helpers on the other boat and two on the dock Gratitude shouldered in with fenders squeezed on both sides.

July 7, 2013

The Clarrens were in town at their sort of new condo, ready to brunch with us and show us around. It was a lovely morning for walking through their Kitsilano neighborhood to Juliet’s their favorite breakfast spot. Afterwards they took us home and we admired their freshly painted and furnished place. While we were there Charlie discovered that the best way to get a Canadian fishing license is on line. By the time we returned to the boat it was all registered and we printed out the official document. Could have done it from Seattle! Oh well.

View of RVYC from beach just east. The city is creating

a waterfront access trail all around English Bay.

Sandy and I strolled down the beach to the local sailing center where we could have rented a boat or a kayak but instead we just drank an experimental “Arnold Palmer” mixed up by the local snack joint owner and enjoyed the balcony view of Sunday boating mob á la Jericho. Everyone who could get outside was loving the beach and water. After Sandy left, our terrific dining experiences continued with delicious dinner on the RVYC balcony.

Just a nice little beach collage left by waves and wind.

The purplish clam shells reminded me of quahogs in New

England.

Motor trip to up the Slough to Bellingham

July 5, 2013

This morning started with a hunt for a missing rubber duckie. Somehow after the morning boaters net, Charlie lost the handheld radio’s short screw base antenna, aka rubber duck. It was a bit of a trauma for a pre-coffee man. I ended his misery by locating it where we keep the radio. He redeemed himself by ascertaining via just-in-time internet research that the Swinomish Channel, silted to about 6 feet controlling depth in recent years, had been dredged last winter. Now at 12 feet, it would be passable for Gratitude, even at low tide. This saved us waiting til 3 p.m. for the slack at Deception Pass!

Motoring north we took a scenic tour of La Conner and the tideflats of Padilla Bay. Crowds of Caspian terns lined the sand banks. Some in flight plunged into the water to snag little fish. The lack of wind didn’t matter so much as we made our canal tour. It’s much too narrow to sail anyway. By 5 we were squeezing into a dock space about 3 feet too short for us at Bellingham YC.  Shortly after we shoehorned into the expanded space, the fleet captain at came out to chat and invited us to join their Friday free dinner. We had a great time visiting with members and eating yet another unearned meal. So far I haven’t cooked at all!

It's hard to see how bad the bow overlap is, but with both fists full, I'm not
as worried. All we have to do now is bend the bow out a bit. Look below.
Gratitude's made of some special rubber or else it's the power of this
extra hopped Bellingham brew.

Departure and the Fourth

July 3, 2013

Slipped out of Shilshole at about 10 in calm, sunny conditions and motored up Saratoga Passage until the last couple of hours. A nice breeze picked up off Camano to carry us into Utsalady Bay where we anchored off the Lemkins’ house. They kindly hosted us for dinner featuring Jeff’s slow food spaghetti sauce. In return we unloaded the last of our wine and beer oversupply.

Anchoring at Utsalady Bay.           photo by Jeff Lemkin

After dinner an onshore breeze kicked up. Launching the dinghy we waded into the waves in our thin waterproof jackets. Splashed repeatedly by adverse wind and waves, we arrived at the boat quite drenched from the waist down. Our teeth chattered as we hosed ourselves down in the cockpit. It was a reminder that we are not in warm Mexican waters any more.

July 4

The National Holiday dawned grey and calm. I dinghied to the house for crab bait and a gauge, kindly lent by Bonney. Back in the cockpit Charlie set up our workbench and extracted the power jigsaw. We still had plexiglas saved from the broken windshield caper back in ’04! I traced the gauge and cut a new one out for measuring adult male Dungeness crabs, 6 1/4 inches across the shell. Plexiglas is easy to cut but messy! It makes sandlike staticky grains.

Due to the project we arrived at the Utsalady Parade a bit late, but it didn’t matter. Half the main street residents had put out chairs and then abandoned them to stroll down the road. Many stopped to buy goodies at the Ladies’ Aid Society. Just about everybody had remembered to wear red, white and blue, even the dogs and goats. We found several Lemkin friends from Seattle including our future crew, Bill and Colene, who had kindly bought us milk. (How could I forget that??) Eventually the whole gang ended up assembling on the front law of the last waterfront house in front of an enormous flagstaff with about 7 hoists. Some local kids struggled to raise the flag. We sang the national anthem and My Country Tis of Thee and then rambled back up the street. The rest of the day involved eating again and again at the amazing, endless, Lemkin potluck, setting the crab trap and taking a nap. Luckily only females liked the chicken bait.

That night’s fireworks were the longest if not the most magnificent we’ve ever experienced. All up and down the beach families popped off colored displays that must have lit up many smiles on the neighboring reservations. We sat cuddling in the cockpit wrapped in a laprobe until we couldn’t keep our eyes open any more

Ready to Cruise Again

July 2, 2013

Nothing but blue skies…and green things bursting out of the P-Patch. Oh no! Hard as it is to leave beautiful Seattle, now must be the time for a summer cruise, our first long distance venture aboard Gratitude since Mexico. 

Giant P-Patch broccoli, almost as big a 2-year old Ryan.

Colene, our future crew, is taking care of the garden while 

we're away.

Charlie's shiny gray anchor. Okay it looks

like a dolphin sculpture. Ignore the messy 

greenhouse.

Charlie made a few repairs to the boat, got the anchor sandblasted and then painted it with some very special radar repelling acrylic paint. If it weren’t for AIS we’d be undetected in stealth mode.  Well, probably not, but it looks a lot better than the rusty old beak.

We have set our sights on cruising the Broughton Island area this trip, visiting friends and SYC outstations on the way up and taking  our time once we get there. I kind of forgot all the gear that was stored at home: outboard motor, kayak, solar panels, jib and gennaker, folding bikes. Yikes! Even emptying the booze locker (due to Canada’s strict limits), we still found our waterline several inches lower.  

Gratitude Back in the Emerald City

June 26

Charlie stands by for the launch our beautiful boat.

Happily, Gratitude needed very little done at the end of this tour except a new coat of bottom paint. In his wisdom Charlie had scheduled a haulout soon after we expected to arrive home. During recent weeks we’d noticed some vibration when motoring at high revs. We took this to be from cavitation, but were not sure. Charlie removed our line cutter from the prop shaft, and added a few zincs. CSR completed the paint job and polished the prop. Outside the locks we revved up to full throttle. No more vibration! Not bad after all those miles! No doubt Charlie will add some statistics at a later date, but this is my last post. What a wonderful adventure we have had!

Cruising Back to our Home Waters

June 15

Gratitude hit the water late in the day right next to the Nanaimo seaplane dock. She was a bit gritty and salty from a week aboard ship, but otherwise fine. Luckily it was raining (and about 45°. Diane and I suddenly found a use for the newly knitted hats.) Charlie and I spent the night aboard and cleaned up on deck a bit as, dressed for a wet winter day, we headed out early to make the tide at Dodd Narrows.

The cruise home helped link boat life with our Seattle world. Diane and Ian joined us at the Royal Victoria YC the next day and we had a great sail to Roche Harbor where Customs was downright friendly, welcoming us home and skipping the refrigerator inspection. There was a little sightseeing for Diane on the way with Fathers Day lunch at the restaurant on the dock and provisioning at the store. Then we spent the night at Henry Island and proceeded to Port Townsend, sailing downwind almost all the way on a favoring tide!

June 19

On the fourth day the weather started to turn. We had sun over a glassy calm Sound as we motored the last leg to Shilshole and slid into our new slip next to the Steward’s sloop, Alert. Originally it was her voyage to Mexico that inspired ours. Chuck and Peggy’s advice guided many of our choices along the way. Thanks to them and all our helpful cruising friends!

Looking up the Sound at Point No Point and Whidbey Island with a bulk carrier in the shipping lanes.

Shawnigan Lake and Fun with the Marshes

June 13

Diane and her grandchildren

Naturally Charlie was glued to his iPhone's AIS tracking software for the next few days. Sure enough it took longer for the Pac Acrux to get north than planned. The destination was changed from Victoria to Nanaimo. We took the Victoria Clipper up to stay with Ian and Diane for a night in their little patch of paradise on Shanigan Lake. One night turned into two when the stevedores found the ship’s cranes didn’t pass a safety inspection.

This hat pattern may show an oystercatcher but
I think it's a hummingbird.
In the background is Emily's photo illustrating
a recent magazine article.

In spite of the extra wait, we had a great time with Ian and Diane. She took me to see Hill’s Cowichan trading post in Duncan where I met Emily, a manager of the store who’s a member of the local band. Sure enough along with all the other woolens, a partially knit sweater in a corner gave away her knitting sideline. We had a long visit discussing the authenticity of various practices in making the hats. She even showed me her cast-on technique, handed down to her by her mother. I’d never seen that before. In the room she also had a yarn spinner operated by a foot treadle. I learned that, like her, the women often spin their yarn themselves before knitting it. I got all kinds of new ideas for hat designs.

Kim and her eldest, Sierra, on the "mud" couch. Look at the back. Real branches! 

We also visited Diane's daughter’s family in the straw and mud house they constructed. No, the big bad wolf can’t blow it down, but a family of gnomes from Sweden might sneak in to live there. Ian calls it the mud hut. While we were gone, Charlie and Ian moved a load of gravel to shore up his bank and threw worms to the father bass fish guarding babies in the lakeside shallows.