New Boat 4 Sled

[sleddog]

Under WILDFLOWER's floor boards I have (had) 20 pounds of Tom's Best Ever Granola. It really is "best ever." I would like to give a shout out to my Sis and husband Tom, who have put their hearts, souls, and wallets into making "Tom's Best Ever."

With toasted organic oats, pecans, sunflower seeds, almonds, pepitas, raisins, cranberries, apricots, cherries, peaches, honey, molasses, safflower oil and maple syrup, Tom's keeps me fueled. The local Texada blackberries are ripening. Blackberries,yogurt, and granola, yum.

I can't imagine a more healthy, tasty, sailing food for combining ease of preparation, compact storage, no refrigeration. Thanks, Marilee and Tom!

http://tomsbestevergranola.com/

 

[sleddog]

Just uphill from the one room Texada Boat Club is a storage yard for heavy equipment. It is part museum, with a Bucyrus-Erie steam shovel that looks like it was used to build the Panama Canal. Apparently everything works, and is actively used. The Boat Club built their own breakwater. The biggest backhoe I've ever seen is parked alongside a machine that apparently can pull a good size tree out by the roots.

On a smaller scale I'm informally surveying the ever changing fleet for handy ideas and equipment. John, with his PSC 34 and 18 thru hulls, pressure water, hot water, 7 head hoses, and engine hoses figures he has "1,000 hose clamps in active duty." John swears by his flexible hose clamp wrench (looks like a screwdriver) which allows him to get into those otherwise impossible places and keep his many hose clamps snug.

More than any body part, knees take abuse on small boats. Short of wearing knee pads, several have mentioned a foam gardener's knee rest for kneeling comfort. Lightweight, easy to stow, tough, and cheap, these knee rests measure about 9” x 24” and are available at garden shops.

My own favorite are heavy duty clothes pins, actually small plastic spring loaded clamps. Regular wood or plastic clothes pins are nearly useless to hang laundry or towels and disappear with exasperating regularity over the side.

Just off my bow is a C&C 30. The lady skipper, in Pacific NW tradition, tows her dinghy. Not only that, she tows two dinghies, one nested atop the other. One for sailing, and one for rowing and for the kids. I'm not sure this would work in a San Pablo Bay ebb against wind. But it works for her.

 

[sleddog]

Though I'd rather be writing about sailing adventures, the Sunday Texada Farmers Market was a treat. About 50 locals began lining up early at their favorite vendors. At noon a bell rang and selling began. The supply of eggs were gone in three minutes. I was third in line at the bakers and got the last loaf of homemade raisin bread. Everyone was in good humor, and this was the weekly meeting of the island tribe.

Doing a landslide business were five kids, ages 7-11, selling their homemade cookies (soft ginger, coconut,) rice crispy and p-nut butter bars, and candy kabobs. According to the parents, the kids had kept accounting for all their ingredients, and knew exactly what their profits were. I asked them how much they had taken in. The money kid with the tin can said immediately, “$25 dollars!”

The only farmers not represented at the Farmers Market were the pot growers. Apparently “Texada Gold” is highly prized in the industry, and “Gro-Ops” are common. Seven or fewer plants may be grown for medicinal use. I saw one small pot garden in the front yard three doors down from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police station.

After the Farmers Market, we circumnavigated the northern half of Texada by road. Saw no other cars in 15 miles. Did see some unique homes. One individual, the “gopher guy with a tunneling fetish,” had built a 12 sided home. Under every room he had tunneled and dug out subterranean chambers. The tailings became terraces above his home. He had apparently struck a fossil trove under the bedroom.

I returned to Turtle Lake. All were accounted for. I saw my friend the swimming garter snake, the aerobatic kingfishers, the promiscuous dragonflys. A bald eagle and I startled each other. In a matter of two weeks, the tadpoles had become small green frogs with red protruding eyes. I did not see the rare and endangered spiny stickleback fish (swim vertically), nor the western painted turtles.

 

[H Spruit]

OK!
You got me! You know I am a sucker for small cars, and you included a pic of one without an explanation.
I need to know more.
<H>

 

[Santana20Vixen]

Howard that looks like one of those scooters that you can get for free from the "Scooter Store" Must be the "All Weather Version"... You may qualify. Call Now.

 

[sleddog]

The gods must be laughing. Farley Mowat, the author of Never Cry Wolf, would have a field day: My engine part has arrived in Powell River and been retrieved at the dealership by my mechanic. It is only a ferry ride away. Shortly after, the ferry rammed the dock, taking out the pilings and gangway, and closing down the ferry system. Texada is cut off. The engine part and mechanic are apparently stranded on the other side.

No sympathy from my German single handed neighbor. She discovered the fuel dock at Gorge Harbor filled her chartered Beneteau 39's diesel tank with gas.

There must be some puckering in the Transpac Race delivery fleet about now: Tropical Storm “Flossie” (who thinks of these names?) is affecting the Hawaiian chain and making a bee line for Maui. Capt. Bob, at Sunset Beach, Oahu, was scheduled to have their home tented and fumigated. The Terminix crew decided discretion was in order and canceled before setting up their acre sized tent in the path of Flossie.

Frog acts in mysterious ways. My attention was diverted by the putt putt arrival of a blue Piver “Nimble” trimaran. “Rough and ready” would be a compliment to this tri, paint peeling, and launched 50 years ago from a backyard in Victoria. Today, her crew had discovered a leak in the muffler. Practical solution? They decided they didn't need no stinkin' muffler.

On the other end of the scale, and the other side of the dock, was the arrival of CORSAIR I, a beautiful power yacht and family heirloom, built in 1930. She is kept in a boathouse in Vancouver and brought out on special occasion. Her varnish was glistening in the afternoon sun.

 

[Santana20Vixen]

Wow - I'll sacrifice another chicken to try and appease the gods for you. I'm so sorry to hear your continued dilemma. On another note - is that a stove pipe sticking out of the house top on the old Tri?

 

[sleddog]

Tues. 7/30/13

Engine running!

The mechanic appeared this morning at 0700. In 10 minutes he had the new carburetor installed. No joy. Same symptoms: smoke, engine would race, but not idle. We scratched our heads. I suggested we try my reserve 3 gallon tank and hose. Engine started right up.

I thought back to that windy morning, July 13, leaving Nanaimo. I had pulled in to the fuel dock to top off my 5 gallon reserve jerry jug. Fending off the boat, I handed the attendant the half empty, 5 gallon, red gasoline jerry jug and said “fill it with gas for my outboard, please.” He returned a few minutes later and said, “ you said gas, right?”

I confirmed. He said, “ I accidentally put the diesel nozzle in your jug, but didn't pull the trigger.

Here apparently was cause of the developing problem. The fuel dock attendant, likely not wanting to deal with the impossible task of disposing of five gallons of contaminated gas, fibbed and had mistakenly put three gallons of diesel in my reserve gas jerry jug.

My mistake was 1) being distracted by the boat's position, and not filling the jug myself, and 2) believing the attendant's assertion he had not pulled the diesel trigger.

The cause of the engine woes was the difficult to detect, but simple fact I was running a diesel/gasoline blend in my gas outboard. I now own a spare carburetor.

It took most of the morning to purge the hoses, the tank and jug of bad fuel. An expensive lesson, but lesson nevertheless: confirm what fuel you are putting into one's tanks. Mea Culpa.

 

[sleddog]

WILDFLOWER and I depart early tomorrow for points north: Surge Narrows, Maurelle Island, Okisollo Channel, and Octopus Islands. The forecast is for variable winds becoming SE, 10-15. Off the wind conditions.

I will miss Texada Island, Van Anda village, and Texada Boat Club at Sturt Bay. The locals have been welcoming, friendly, helpful beyond measure. I can't think of any time in my life I have experienced such care.

Maggie, the harbor master ("wharfinger"), presented me with a jar of homemade blackberry jam as a departure present..."please come back," she said.

As a sailing present to all who care about such things, I attach three photos of MENTOR II, at anchor nearby. She is the prettiest thing I've seen, a 45' ketch, timber, designed by Bruce King, and built in 1977-1980 by one person over three years.

For a moment, I thought MENTOR II was an L. Francis Herreshoff design. She is that pretty. But she goes L. Francis one better: tall masts, modern underbody, and the sweetest stern you will ever see.

I'll write when I can. It may be a few days. Internet ahead is decidedly scarce.

 

[sleddog]

7/31

With light headwinds, the 29 miles from Sturt Bay to Manson's Landing, Cortez Island, passed pleasantly. Coasting the white sand beaches of Savary Island, WILDFLOWER entered Desolation Sound The engine purred, using 1.5 gallons for the distance, about the same mileage as my mini-van. The only obstacle was a gaggle of Ranger Tugs racing to leave their convention at Gorge Harbor. The combined wake of a dozen Rangers trying and failing to get up on a plane was enough to make me ring for the slow bell.

After 5.5 hours, I anchored in my favorite place at Mansons, in 15 feet of water at the entrance to the tidal lagoon. Chickens were audible, clucking 50 yards astern. The snowy peaks of Vancouver Island were visible, 30 miles to the west.

Just when I had everything stowed, and thought I might crack a book, in came the afternoon's entertainment: a 70', deep green, spankin' new motor yacht named SINGLE MALT. Ms. Malt was on the foredeck, anxiously fingering her anchor remote. Was she really single? I couldn't tell. But she was good operating the down button of the windlass, and the shiny stainless anchor and a many feet of chain disappeared into the deep green water, which pretty much matched the hull color.

Ms. Malt was apparently not single. From some invisible corner, a male voice on a speaker boomed, “is it on the bottom?” Ms. Malt peered over the bow. The shiny chain was vertical, just missing the bulb bow. Ms. Malt shrugged. As if by magic, the chain started up and Ms. Malt disappeared into a door on the upper deck.

SINGLE MALT kept edging closer, the anchor and chain going up and down several times with no one in attendance. Finally, they anchored right alongside, let out 200' in 15 feet of depth, gave the engine a goose astern, and called it good, apparently not concerned the yellow/green water depth didn't match their topside color..

I still hadn't seen Mr. Malt. But someone was pushing buttons. Out of nowhere appeared a hoist. It lifted a good size RIB dinghy, nearly the length of WILDFLOWER, and deposited it into the water. Look Ma, no hands. Must be nice. It takes me most of the morning to get WILDFLOWER launched. SINGLE MALT did it in three minutes with no visible crew.

Their RIB lay alongside for the rest of the afternoon. Apparently Ms. Malt was busy cleaning the freezer. A dozen discarded frozen strawberries floated by.

With a forecast for SE 15-25 for later tonight, I pulled anchor and headed for Gorge Harbor, three miles west. Avoiding 54 Ranger tugs still at the Marina, I tucked into the west end of landlocked Gorge Harbor, in 18' of water, secure for the huffing and puffing, rain, thunder and lightning electrical show that blew up from the south after sunset. 50-06 N x 125-02 W

 

[BobJ]

It sounds like you were wise to move away from SINGLE MALT. I wonder if they made it through the night.

Those Ranger Tugs crack me up - the dealer is here in Alameda. You can get a bright red (or green) 27'ish foot long one with both bow and stern thrusters (really?) for a quarter of a mil or something. The few times I've seen them trying to dock, it seems they've needed both bow and stern thrusters.

Your recent post has shattered the bucolic image I had of your recent anchorages. (Isn't that a great word? From the root word bucus, which rhymes with mucus...)

 

[sleddog]

For you dirt boat speed freak afficianados, Santa Cruz locals Dennis Michael Bassano and Alan Wirtanen are bringing a fleet of dirt boats, Mantas and mini-Mantas, to Pier 29 at San Francisco, 1:30-4:30 pm, this Saturday and Sunday to match race the Oracle America's Cup crew. Dennis and Alan have been sailing dirt boats for years, but not sure about stadium sailing ;-)

It is Pro-Am competition, with the Oracle crew being the "amateurs." The big cars with wing masts will be on display, as the course is too tight for their 80 mph straight away speeds.

 

[sailbabe]

Good work in avoiding the Malts if a blow was coming but too bad you had to give up a favorite anchorage because of two idiots. Don't badmouth those Ranger Tugs too much....there may be one in our future...distant future.....but we're actually reading ads in broker's windows. Scary!

 

[Santana20Vixen]

I'm glad the fuel issue was resolved. It seems like a summer of bad fuel stories, with 100gal dirt in the fuel from a dock in Mexico, another in So. Cal contaminated with water, Diesel in Gas, Diesel in Gas.... But glad you are on your way to next adventures. I had heard at the LTWYC post double-hand the reason the Red Menace Moore 30 did not sail was because Lester and family had to practice for their dirt boat debut at Pier 29 this weekend match racing Spithill and crew.... sounds like there will be quite the crowd.

And I'm excited because I'm going dirt boating today a nice break from all the A/C circuit design and troubleshooting for my studies... I'm sooo Laddered OUT! Relay I am... LOL the nerds will get it.

 

[sleddog]

Leaving Gorge Harbor on Cortez Island, we came upon a sad sight. Four big (44'?) Bayliner powerboats were rafted together on one anchor and one shore line. The evening before, the group was in party hearty mode, so much so they apparently forgot to check their depth clearance aft.

With two hours to low tide, the group was aground. I could see the props, shafts, and rudders of two of the yachts high and dry and snuggled into the shoreline rocks. An expensive start to one's holiday weekend.

We crossed from Cortez Island to Read Island, and anchored off Lambert's Beach, intending to participate in the Read Island Picnic. Just ahead was the fine old gaffer ZULU, Brian and Marlene from Seattle. Brian is an instructor at the Wooden Boat Center in Seattle. It was a fun group, many friends, good food, and Celtic music into the night.

This morning, 8/4, I upped anchor early and set off 13 miles north to Port Maurelle, home of good friends Rob and Laurie Wood. The wind was on the nose, NW, 10-20 knots, most of the way, and we motorsailed with just the double reefed main. We transited Beazely Pass with Tusko Rock to starboard at one hour before slack, and found 3 knots of favorable ebb current. Tied up at Port Maurelle and greeted by the local cat, Smokey, who was just a kitten last year.
Port Maurelle's posit: 50-14.360 N x 125-09.431 W

Tusko Rock, in the middle of narrow Beazley Pass, is just visible at low tide, and has claimed many victims over the years. Rob and Laurie rescued one elderly lady a few years back who's powerboat ran afoul of Tusko. They took this person home for tea, and she introduced herself as (retired Supreme Court Justice) Sandra Day O'Conner.

Rob and Laurie were having their own shakedown adventure on their new, homebuilt, 20' aluminum cat WILDCAT. Their outboard gas was contaminated with water, and they were blown ashore at the entrance to White Rock Passage. Fortunately they were towed to nearby Rendesvouz Island by singlehander Mark on MISS MADISON, where the problem was sorted and fresh fuel obtained.

 

[sleddog]

The Read Island picnic had families from five nearby islands. One lady and her husband introduced themselves: Katherine and Steve B.. It turns out I was talking with the great, great grand daughter of John Cox Stevens, first commodore of the New York Yacht Club in 1844, and head of the syndicate that built the schooner AMERICA, that in 1851 challenged the Brits on a wager, and came home with the AMERICA's 100 guinea cup that was to become the America's Cup.

It turns out Katherine descends from one of the more remarkable families in American history. Her family at one time or another bought what is now Hoboken, New Jersey, and started the first steam ferry service across the Hudson between Hoboken and NYC.

They also pioneered the first use of propellors on steam yachts, founded Stevens Institute of Technology, and bequeathed the towing tank where many famous yachts were tank tested ......

I doubt John Cox Stevens would recognize his AMERICA's cup today. With more similarities to flying than traditional sailing, the AC-72's lift up and fly out the water at 40 knots. ORACLE's skipper, to further his team's chances, recently took flying lessons.

The Reno Air Races race laps around a similar length course as AC-34. But the planes are going at speeds often in excess of 400 mph.

I doubt WILDFLOWER will be foiling anytime soon, if ever. I fondly compare her to a gypsy wagon, or an ultralight tree house.

 

[sleddog]

My hosts on Maurelle Island, Rob and Laurie Wood, are mountaineers par excellence, Rob has guided and climbed on Mt. Waddington, highest mountain in British Columbia, more than anyone. And was first to pioneer routes on Mt. Bute, which has a vertical granite face twice as high as El Cap in Yosemite.

Rob was recently a technical consultant on a most remarkable National Geographic documentary, "The Man Who Can Fly."
If you've never seen this film, I recommend it as being in the spirit of Mallory on Everest and Shackleton in Antarctica: pushing the bounds of exploration of the unknown for its own sake. There's a short trailer at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZvgxR0Rt_us

Unfortunately, I just learned after posting, "The Man Who Can Fly," about 45 minutes in length, is difficult to find and was only shown once on TV. I suspect National Geo's lawyers were having indigestion.

 

[sleddog]

WILDCAT, (to starboard of WILDFLOWER in below photos,) has an unusual background. Her predecessor, QUINTANO, Rob and Laurie built and used for many (30?) years on expeditions up remote fjords, ferrying alpine climbing and cross country skiing clients.

Four years ago, Rob was whipping some line with a torch. He failed to notice the flame had not been fully extinguished and QUINTANO burned to the waterline and sank. Rob and Laurie were devastated.

By happenstance, Rob's friend Chuck is the mechanic at the remote Homathko River logging camp, 60 miles up Bute Inlet. Logging is finished in the Homathko Valley, and Chuck had time on his hands in the winter. To teach himself aluminum welding, Chuck built WILDCAT. No plans, no boat building experience. Chuck then sold WILDCAT to Rob and Laurie, and they towed her out of Bute Inlet to their home on Maurelle for finishing.

As might be expected, WILDCAT is a bit rough. But she was built 80 miles from the nearest civilization, in a shop 2 miles up a nearly inaccessible glacial river.

WILDCAT, Rob, and especially Chuck at Homathko Camp have ties to the above mentioned "Man Who Can Fly." Chuck's experience welding aluminum on WILDCAT allowed Chuck to build the spring board off which Dean Potter flew to descend the 9,000' Mt. Bute in a 3 plus minute flight.
http://www.judithmwilliams.com/?q=node/61

Currently, Rob and I are attempting to figure out a sailing rig for WILDCAT. This afternoon we will meet members of the Homalco Tribe of First Nations people who are paddling their traditional cedar dugout canoes to pay homage to their native lands up Bute Inlet.

 

[Harrier]

Skip:
I've been very much enjoying your "travelogue" posts re sailing in the great NW. Happy to hear Wildflower has been such a success and would like to see some pictures of her showing her evolved set-up, equipage, etc.

 

[sleddog]

Yesterday Rob and I motored WILDCAT 4 miles NW in the Okisollo Channel to visit Josh and family. We were paced to port by a pod of 6-8 orcas. Their chuffing was audible over the outboard.

We stern anchored off a small cove, and beached WILDCAT on the shingle shore. Just inland is the boat shop, and the 44' catamaran under construction off the grid. This is a big project!

Returning WILDCAT down channel, the orcas were once again present, having turned around near the Okisollo Rapids and heading back towards the Surge Narrow Rapids.

The rapids are ever present, and except at slack water, their thunderous roar can be heard for a great distance. The tidal current speed at the rapids is given in the Tide Book in knots, 12 knots not being unusual. However locals Rob and Laurie, with 40 years experience, measure the current by the height of the overfalls as well.

Rob and Laurie, in their 16' outboard powered commuter skiff, transit the Surge Narrows Rapids at any time, using local knowledge of back eddies. They are very much aware of the current boundaries, wind against tide, and keeping an extra reserve of power if needed. They do not take the experience for granted. Similar to entering a busy freeway on ramp, Rob and Laurie run the rapids nearly every day and are "in tune" with their environment.