Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Day 39, September 26th, Half Moon Bay to Monterey

The morning dawned clear and warm with no wind, so I decided to launch the boat without waking Marian. I try to do this whenever I can because I know she enjoys sleeping in. Having woken up at 5am and having had a few cups of coffee I was well prepared to handle the lines and fenders. This is only possible if the conditions are perfect, which they were. I slipped the lines and headed out of the marina. As I rounded the breakwater I saw a sight I whish I had photographed. Half Moon Bay has a rock breakwater that calms the ocean swell. On every single rock in the breakwater a single pelican was roosting. There must have been thousands of them. I’ve come to the conclusion the pelican is my favorite bird. Between the fact they fly in a V formation and use ground effect for efficiency and the aerobatics they perform when the dive in the water after food, I find them captivating. Anyway, we motored out of the marina and set a course for Monterey, about 10 hours in the distance.
The trip to Monterey was uneventful, save for the three whales that surfaced between Alanui and Paloma. We were so close we could hear them exhale and inhale – “Woshhhhhhh”. It’s amazing. Oh, there was one thing that has happened a few times and is a bit bothersome. Every once in a while the autopilot decides to change course all by itself. It’s quite unnerving as this could cause a real problem if it’s not noticed and corrected. I’m trying to figure out the cause, but to date have not come up with it. As we arrived in Monterey we saw the breakwater completely covered with seals and sea lions of every shape, size, color and odor! We also saw sea otters floating on their backs, enjoying the sun and calm seas. It was a delightful way to end a 10 hour journey. We were lucky enough to get two slips side by side. After tieing up we had dinner and went for a short walk along the harbor front. We then watched one of the DVD’s we got at our going away party. It was “The Three Amigos” and boy was it bad! That’s a DVD we won’t hesitate to trade at our first opportunity! While here in Monterey we are going to the world class aquarium and doing some tourist shopping and eating. Our next stop is an anchorage along the coast.

Day 38, September 25th, Sausalito to Half Moon Bay

The morning dawned clear and warm as we departed San Francisco and got a dozen pictures of us heading in the opposite direction under the Golden Gate Bridge. Today is an easy 5 hours to the small fishing community of Half Moon Bay. Once a hot spot of fishing activity, declining runs of salmon now leave this coastal community trying to re-cast itself into a tourist destination. We had an uneventful trip to HMB and arrived early enough to enjoy dinner at a nice Italian restaurant. I’m trying to carve out a unique relationship with Jonathan, kind of the “Crazy Uncle Scott” thing. In keeping with that image I asked Jonathan if he knew how to hang a spoon from his nose. Well, surprisingly this was a skill he didn’t have, so we went back to Alanui and Marian and I taught him the secrets necessary to hang an ordinary table spoon from the end of your nose. I relish the idea that for years to come Jonathan has an ice breaking move he can pull out at the drop of a hat and start a conversation over a quick laugh. These are the kind of things that make lifetime memories and I’m lucky to have Jonathan as a new recipient of so many fun tricks!!! We watched an episode of the PBS series “WAR” and went off to bed thinking about all the brave men and women that have given so much that we could have the freedom and prosperity we enjoy today.

Day 27, September 14th Bodega Bay to San Francisco (Sausalito)

The day’s trip is a simple one, short, but eventful. Many people define major times in their lives when they cross under the Golden Gate Bridge. Both my father and Marian’s father each passed under this massive structure as part of their young lives. My father was about 12 when he and his family left San Francisco to live in the Philippians after WWII. Marian’s father passed under the bridge several times when he served aboard an ammunition carrier during WWII. Both of them told us about their feelings as they went under the bridge and it served as a wonderful backdrop for our own entrance just a few hours away. The morning dawned with a spectacular sunrise. We started the boats and pulled away from the dock as the sun peeked over the hillside. I didn’t mention it earlier, but Bodega Bay is a beautiful collection of hillside homes and sand dunes on an isolated part of the California coast. My Mom mentioned that in the early 1960’s we considered vacationing there, but never quite made it. The seas were again as flat as a lake, however there was considerable fog. As we threaded our way through the fishing fleet, it took a few hours for the fog to burn off, just in time to reveal Point Reyes and the beautiful light house sitting sentential on the cliff side.
Rounding Point Reyes we set our course for the entrance channel to the San Francisco Bay. Susan and Patrick pointed out several significant landmarks along the way, helping to build the excitement as we closed on the bridge. We conversed over the VHF radio and agreed that Alanui would move ahead of Paloma so we could get some pictures, then we would swing behind Paloma and do the same. As we approached the bridge I put in calls to my brother Joe in Alabama and my Mom and Dad in Florida. I figured this was a defining moment for us and we wanted to share it with other family members so far away.
The currents were minimal and there was only a small amount of boat traffic, so we were able to get some great pictures. As we went under the bridge we saw a huge fleet of sailboats heading in our direction and we began to chart a path through them. At one point Paloma was able to make it through the fleet, but we had to take some evasive action and ended up taking a significant detour. No worries, this is what boating is all about; frankly it was nice to finally see a sailboat with sails up!
Patrick had secured slips for us at the Sausalito Yacht Harbor, one of the nicest facilities on the West coast. In many respects it’s like Coal Harbour in Vancouver. Top drawer facilities nestled along a wonderful waterfront community where everything is available and entertaining. The wind did present a bit of a challenge and we actually lost a fender as we entered a very narrow fairway. I flipped Alanui around and went back out to get the fender and then made another try at docking. With Marian’s assistance I was able to back the boat into a narrow slip and get her securely tied up without bumping into anyone else or anything else!
The next 11 days was filled with traveling around the Bay area. We went to Napa and bought a dozen bottles of our favorite wine (Rombauer), did the tourist thing in San Francisco by visiting Alcatraz and ended up our stay by visiting Susan, Patrick and Jonathan at their vineyard in Sonoma. Oh, we also got the Nauticomp display repaired and did some maintenance on Alanui. One of the biggest accomplishments was finally getting confirmation of a reservation at a marina in Mexico that enabled us to book plane and hotel reservations so the Bridget, Asher and Shannon could join us after the holidays.

Day 26, September 13, Ft. Bragg to Bodega Bay

There is a phrase used to describe the effect of being close to a destination, and it applies very well to boating. The phrase is “the cows can smell the barn”. We were starting to realize how close we were to San Francisco, only one more stop away. So it was with great anticipation that we started out on a long day’s journey to Bodega Bay. The only thing of any significance was that we spent a lot of the day in fog, and my $6,000 Nauticomp display decided to loose 50% of it’s brightness in the middle of the trip. I was looking right at the screen when all of the sudden it was like someone turned off the backlight. A few minutes of verifying I hadn’t done something to cause the problem left me realizing I had just experienced an electronics failure. I called Nauticomp and they said they would take care of it, that I just needed to ship it to them for repair. So, we put that on our to-do list for Sausalito. We arrived at Bodega Bay near sunset and had an easy time navigating the dredged channel to the marina. We spotted a sailboat aground, tipped over on it’s side on the mudflats surrounding the bay. Later we learned it was a derelict boat that had been evicted from the marina a few weeks before and had subsequently run aground. Now the boat is sitting there waiting for someone to take claim it, a very sad end for a once proud boat. We tied up to the dock, fixed dinner aboard and went to bed anticipating a short trip tomorrow and our arrival in Sausalito, after going under the Golden Gate Bridge!!!

Day 25, September 12, Shelter Cove to Ft. Bragg

Several hours later the alarm went off and it was time to leave. We had a long run to make today to get into Ft. Bragg, so we wanted to get an early start. We pulled the anchor up, stowed the flopper stopper and set course for Ft. Bragg. The seas continued their delightful performance of being as flat as anyone could ever imagine, not more than a few feet of swell coming about 14 seconds apart. It just doesn’t get any better than that! As we traveled to Ft. Bragg we saw several whales and pelicans, took showers and had a light lunch. As we approached Ft. Bragg we spent some time looking at the tides and realized that we weren’t going to have a lot of water under our boats as we entered a very narrow channel. We had been told that there wasn’t much to do or see in Ft. Bragg, so our expectations were pretty low as we approached from the ocean. Imagine our delight as we entered the channel and found ourselves winding along a picturesque channel lined with dock, storefronts and boats. It reminded me of the town of La Conner in Puget Sound. I called out depths to Patrick as we entered the boat harbor and after some confusion, we tied up at two great slips in a beautiful cove. Marian started dinner and I took a snooze. After dinner we went for a mile or so walk to a grocery store and bought some provisions for the next few days.
-Skipper

Day 24, September 11th, Eureka to Shelter Cove via Cape Mendocino

Well, this is it, our first big cape crossing. Cape Mendocino is notorious as one of the worst capes on the West coast. It’s a place where voyages are defined in their entirety. Skippers will tell you, oh we had a great voyage, or, it was murder- Cape Mendocino kicked our butt.
Several things conspire to make Mendocino unique amongst the west coast capes. First, it’s the western most cape, and pretty far north as the significant capes go. Second, it lies in an area of significant geological activity and topography. Three of the earth’s tectonic plates converge off of Cape Mendocino resulting in a area of intense earthquake activity. Not surprisingly the land mass rises out of the ocean quite abruptly and reaches great height. The effect this has on ocean breezes is dramatic. Not unlike an airplane wing, air will accelerate around an object when deflected by something like a land mass. I’m not certain if it’s the Bernoulli principle that accelerates the velocity of wind, but the result is that in the vicinity of Cape Mendocino it blows, and Blows and BLOWS. So, as we left Eureka we were delighted to hear the forecast:
.Cape Mendocino: Light winds and calm seas with a 1 to 2 foot swell from the west expected throughout the forecast periodThis was unbelievable. Here we were approaching one of the most treacherous parts of the west coast and by all rights we were going to have a sled ride. We were delighted. Below is a picture of Paloma as we slipped gracefully around the cape! With the cape behind us we got focused on our arrival at Shelter Cove. Shelter Cove is a tiny cove of land that offers protection from Northwest swell. It does not provide protection from waves with any southerly component or even westerly component. We knew it was going to be a crap shoot to arrive at Shelter cove with enough light to anchor by, so we put the pedal to the metal and ran at close to 2,000RPM to try to get a few minutes of extra light upon arrival. Approaching Shelter Cove Marian and I saw a Humpback Whale flopping it’s fins in and out of the water, it was the most amazing thing to see. He would lounge on the surface and raise his huge fin in the air, perhaps 20 feet or more, and then SLAP it down on the water. The picture below isn’t too good, but we just had to include it.
After several hours we turned the corner and edged into Shelter Cove. Patrick had a difficult time anchoring here on his trip up the coast, so we were a bit apprehensive. We had spent some time discussing where to anchor and various techniques, so we were both delighted when we each caught the hook on our first attempt. With over 200 feet of chain out in 30 feet of water we were well prepared to sleep soundly through the night. As the sun set Marian and I were deployed our flopper stopper for the first time.
A “Flopper Stopper” is a pole that hangs off the side of the boat with a large plate dangling in the water. The plate is hinged and opens up if you pull it up through the water and closes when it drops. The effect this has on the boat is to stop it from rolling in one direction and only one direction. The reason you need this piece of gear is that a Nordhavn trawler has a round, displacement bottom. While this bottom is very good for fuel economy, it sucks for dampening roll. I can walk from side to side on the boat and get it rolling 30 degrees each way. If I stop moving from side to side it will take 2 minutes for the boat to stop. There is simply little or nothing in the way to prevent the boat from rolling. So, deployment of a Flopper Stopper is critical for a good nights sleep. Well, we deployed the pole, threw the plate in the water and everything “seemed to be ok”. I had read the laminated instructions for deploying the FS several months ago and thought I’d done a good job. Then I looked over at Paloma and noticed that Patrick had positioned his FS pole about 35 degrees up in the air, instead of parallel to the water, as I had. My logical mind told me that putting the pole parallel to the water would get the plate as far out as possible, yielding the most stabilizing force. What I didn’t consider in this analysis was the influence of loading and unloading that would occur as the seas worsened.
So, we had a light dinner of breakfast cereal because, despite the flopper stopper, we were still doing some significant floppering. We went to bed about 9:30. About 1:00am I woke up. Something just didn’t seem right. I heard a new sound, kind of a “ker thunk, thunk, thunk”, pause, “ker thunk, thunk, thunk” repeat… The boat was moving, rolling a fair amount. So I slipped out of bed and went up to the pilothouse. I noticed we had rotated 180 degrees and were now facing east. The wind had picked up and was blowing from our starboard side and we were really rocking, probably 15 degrees from side to side. I turned on the deck lights and watched the flopper stopper. The more I watched it the more concerned I became. As I looked at the pole it became obvious to me why Patrick’s was elevated at 45 degrees. What was happening was that each time the boat would reverse its direction of roll the flopper stopper would lift slightly and then thunk back down as the plate came taught. The problem was when I put the pole out parallel to the ocean surface there was no force or moment that held the pole down, all three attachments points were pulling the pole up. So, when it became unloaded it would actually lift a little bit. I then realized I needed to fix this or it was going to be a long, long night.
So here it is, 1:30 in the morning and I’m considering going out on deck. I sat there for about 30 minutes trying to decide if I should go out on deck without waking Marian up. Part of me didn’t want to admit to her that I had screwed this up and part of me just didn’t want to bother her. But I started to think about some things we had discussed that we would adopt as “POLICY” on the boat. One of the things was that if one of us was standing watch at night, we would NEVER go outside the pilothouse without the other being awake and at the helm. The reason for this is that if you went over the side, there wouldn’t be anyone there to notice and it could be hours before the partner awoke to find they were alone. That thought is horrifying to even consider. So, after some time pondering the decision I went ahead and asked Marian to sit at in the pilothouse while I went on the boat deck to try to solve the issue. I put on a life jacket and went out into the pitch black, but comfortable night air.
Standing on the boat deck was not difficult. While the boat was moving around, it wasn’t so much that being up there was a problem, this was a big relief. So now I needed to resolve the issue of the pole being too low. The problem I was facing was trying to figure out how to raise the pole without bringing the plate back aboard the boat. Trying to retrieve the plate at night, in the cockpit was a scary task. What I was trying to figure out was if there was a way to take up some line on the halyard that supported the pole, without untying it. I was worried that if I untied the line it could get pulled out of my grasp and result in the pole collapsing into the side of the boat. Fortunately there was another cleat below the place where the halyard was tied off. It seemed like it was in just the right spot that if I pulled the line down to it, it might end up with the pole at 35 or 45 degrees. I did a few practice pulls to see if I could gain enough slack to make it to the cleat. The test pulls left me feeling like it might make it, so I waited for a rolling cycle where the boat pulled the plate up in the water, then as the boat rolled into the plate I pulled down with all my strength. I got about an inch away from the cleat as the boat stopped rolling and I remember thinking “I better get this right now, because if I don’t I might not have the strength to try it again”. So I dug deep and put the hurt on it, and sure enough it slipped right around the cleat. When I looked over the side of the boat the pole was up in the air exactly where I wanted it. Sure enough the thunking was gone and the boat motion subsided significantly. I watched the pole for about 5 minutes then went back inside the pilothouse. Both Marian and I went back to bed and fell fast asleep.

Day 23, September 10th, Brookings to Eureka

We departed at first light for Eureka. It was a long, but uneventful day. We were blessed to have calm seas and I was delighted to find the fuel leak was completely solved. We were settling into the journey and this was to become the norm in going from one town or anchorage to another. We spent our time making sure we were on track, estimating our arrival time and insuring we would enter the channel before sunset. We managed our speed to keep at least 7 knots and at times we would see close to 8.5 knots as we got a little push from behind. We arrived at Eureka and entered its long channel to find an end tie at the Woodley Island Marina. We were famished and Patrick and Susan were expecting guests, so Marian and I went up to the restaurant to eat by ourselves. We each had a great dinner, returning to the boat to watch an episode of Dead Like Me, then off to sleep.
Oh, a word about the boat and the entertainment systems. Before leaving Seattle I invested in upgrading the entertainment systems on the boat. The previous owner had equipped the boat with a 15” LCD TV capable of High Def and a DVD player. I thought that since we were going to the East Coast and planned to be there in the Fall, the days would be short and the nights long. Also, there would be the Fall television shows such as Survivor and The Office, which we both enjoy. So I installed a KVH satellite TV antenna. This is a gyro stabilized TV antenna that delivers Direct TV service to the boat. It works at the dock or underway, as long as it can “see” a satellite. It won’t work in Mexico, but that’s ok, because I really just wanted it for the Fall and the East Coast. I also decided we needed a bigger viewing screen than the 15” TV, so I agonized over a LCD TV or Plasma. Well, after months and months and dozens of trips to Frys with Jim Lewis I finally took a tip from Eric Grabb on Kosmos. Eric is cruising in the South Pacific and had purchased a projector for use in his guest stateroom. He explained why he thought this was the best solution and I had to agree with him. A projector and screen are much simpler to install then an LCD or Plasma TV. They are smaller, lighter and easier to repair, they can be moved to a different location or boat and in some respects can provide a better picture. The only question was if it would be bright enough or not. So, prior to leaving Seattle I purchased and installed a Panasonic projector and screen. It hangs from the ceiling and shines 10 feet across the saloon. It gives us an outstanding 55” picture at 1080i or 720p. We then replaced the old DVD with an OPPO up scaling DVD player that is fantastic. One thing that made this obvious was when my son-in-law, Asher, gave us a binder of videos to take with us. He had encoded dozens of TV shows on DVD’s using the DIVX codex. Using DIVX enables you to put 16 hours of good quality video on a single DVD. So we have a great library of Survivor, Lost, Dead Like Me and several other shows and series. I did have to discuss the ethics of copying movies with him, and we are doing extensive research in this area. In summary, we have a wonderful entertainment system and we watch a movie when ever we need a mental check out.

Day 17-22, September 4th-10th, Brookings OR

Patrick, Susan and Jonathan needed to go home to tend the vineyard they have, which left Marian and I on our own to enjoy Northern California. Our first task was to rent a car and get the fuel leak fixed. I walked the short distance to the Chandlery and entered the store. I met the owner, Steve, and started to ask him if he had any Permatex, a sealant I was going to try to fix the leak. As I was asking I then realized what I should do was describe my problem and see if he knew anyone that could fix it. As I described my fuel leak to Steve I noticed another gentleman standing in the store. When I finished my long winded story, Steve pointed at the gentleman and said “Here’s your man, meet Dennis, our mechanic”. I shook his hand and we started to discuss the problem. Much to my delight Dennis said he could look at it right away and with any luck it would be fixed within the hour. So we ran down to the boat and Dennis crawled into the engine room. We soon realized we needed a bigger wrench to fit the fitting, so off to ACE hardware to buy three new wrenches, a 1 and a quarter, a one and an eighth and a one inch wrench now grace my tool bag! Returning to the fitting we pulled it off and found that a brass nipple had been cut down by about an inch, perhaps so the fitting would fit flush against the top of the supply manifold? The effect of cutting an inch of thread off a compression fitting was it was guaranteed to eventually leak, it was just a question of time. Why the boat manufacture did this is beyond me? I think perhaps the fitting is used in other parts of the boat and someone grabbed this one and put it in a configuration it wasn’t designed for. To make a long story short, Dennis had to assemble and disassemble that thing 3 times to get it to stop leaking. It also required us to purchase 3 different parts to get it to stop completely. In the end it cost about $200 for parts and labor, not bad considering it could have been much worse.
With the fuel system leak fixed we were able to move the boat down the harbor and get away from Miss Sarah. Tying up next to Paloma at the furthest south mooring was a delight. We could hear the surf and smell the ocean from our slip, which became our home for the next 6 days, as we waited out a series of Pacific storms that had the offshore seas really beat up. During this time we toured the town, went for walks along the beach and finally went for a drive in the Redwoods. As we were driving down 101 Marian announced “I’ve been here before, this all looks so familiar”. Well sure enough, not more than 10 minutes later we came around a bend and there was the biggest Paul Bunyan and Babe you’ve ever seen. Marian was beside herself as she said “this is it, this is where we stopped years ago when my Dad took us to Disneyland”. She then recounted stories of her brother Mike and how he could mimic the voice of Paul Bunyon “HELLO DOWN THERE, WHO’S SITTING ON MY SHOE?”. It was delightful to hear Marian recall her childhood and affirm how great the memories of her parents’ trips were. Well, we HAD to pull over to see Paul and Babe and to tour the Mysteries of the Woods Park. As we got out of the car, what do we here? “HELLOW DOWN THERE, WHO’S SITTING ON MY SHOE?”. Sure enough, nothing has changed in the 25 years since they made this trip. Paul is still there, as is Babe.
So, after spending an hour or so at the park, we headed further into the Redwood forest. We returned home after 6 hours of driving and had a great nights sleep.
The rest of our time in Brookings was filled with more dinners on and off the boat, maintenance items and other tasks that kept us busy. Busy enough that we had a hard time getting these stories down. One event did occur that has to be mentioned. Patrick and Susan had made a decision to buy a puppy for Jonathan. I really admire them for making this decision, because it’s a huge commitment for all three of them. Clearly they are doing this because they know Jonathan would benefit from a dogs companionship. They had chosen a Beagle as the dog of choice and a breeder was located about 60 miles up the coast in Bandon Oregon. So, when Patrick, Susan and Jonathan returned to the boat we took a day to travel north and look at 18 puppies with the impossible task of having Jonathan select one for his very own.
We traveled in two cars and had a delightful trip. Actually finding the breeder was a bit of a challenge, but it gave us the excuse to drive down some driveways and see some of the most amazing houses and properties. Anyway we finally turn the corner and find the home of the breeder
We met Carol and she took us in to show us the puppies. To say Jonathan was in Puppy Heaven was an understatement. He was literally surrounded by puppies. Puppies to the left, to the right, in front of him, behind him, it was delightful. Susan and Patrick provided feedback on various attributes to look for, but honestly it was just about impossible to pick one from another. There were two that stood out. One was the smallest, the runt of the litter so to speak. Of course Jonathan had an attachment to it, but Patrick was able to describe that sometimes the runt isn’t a good choice and perhaps they should choose one of the puppies that was healthier. So, a few special puppies seemed to stand out. Two of the puppies had tan markings rather than the traditional tri color blend. One of the two tan puppies was spoken for, but the other was not. His name was Underdog. I was hooked, as were Jonathan and Susan. I think Patrick would have preferred a traditional color puppy, but he choose to let Jonathan exercise his choice and they decided Underdog was the one. Jonathan has decided to re-name him Scout and they will be getting him in about 6 weeks, just in time for FUBAR.
Seeing so many puppies was exhausting, so we went off to enjoy a wonderful lunch at Bandon Dunes a premier gold resort on the Oregon coast. Finally we got in our cars and returned home to the boats to settle in for the night. I think all of us dreamed of snakes, snails and puppy dog tails that night!
Finally we wrapped things up in Brookings, returned the rental cars, said goodbye to Dennis and Steve and headed for our next stop. Eureka.

Day 16, September 3, 2007, At Sea

We got up around 6:00 to check the conditions for travel and to wait for a coast guard report on the bar conditions. Fog picked up by the time we left, but we felt pretty safe following behind a large fishing vessel. It had huge spot lights on, so we could keep it in sight at all times. Eventually the fishing boat started heading north, and we began cruising on our own heading south. Eventually Patrick (in the boat Paloma) gave us his heading, and we realized that he was following the fishing boat going the wrong direction! When the fog is so thick, you have to rely on the radar, which can be very difficult to keep track of everything. So Patrick was able to get the boat turned around and headed in the right direction. The fog continued almost all day until about 3:00, which lead to a very tiring day.
-Admiral Marian

As Marian mentioned, we prepared the boats for departure at 6:00am. Sunrise was about 6:15, so we actually had to wait for some time for enough light to make us feel leaving the dock was safe. When your in a new location, and there are adverse conditions, be it fog or sea state, you have to make a series of go/no decisions. Generally if there was no fog and a calm sea state I’d consider leaving in the dark. With fog and dark I wasn’t willing to risk crossing a bar for the first time until there was enough light to see. So after about 20 or 30 minutes we had just the beginnings of light, a large crab boat went by. They were shining a very large, bright work light on the back deck and it seemed to be calling to me “follow us!”. So, we pulled in the lines and Alanui and Paloma entered the narrow, shallow channel to head for the ocean. Patrick and I had radar and lights on, he was following me and I was following the crab boat. I am a bit of a talker (duh!), so every 30 seconds to a minute I would tell Patrick over the VHF (we were on ch72 at low power) I’m at this speed, visibility is this, depth is that…”. I believe when docking and navigating in close quarters in limited visibility you can’t over-communicate. So, as we make the turn out into the major river channel we are each about 100 yards apart. I can just barely see the crab boat, and I can just make out Paloma’s running lights. We travel the next quarter to half a mile and navigate our way out the river entrance and I turn south once clear of the buoy. About 5 minutes later I noticed two radar returns heading off to the west. I called to Patrick and said, “my heading is 185”. Patrick responded that his was about 285. A hundred degrees of difference in the two headings was way, way too much. I asked him if he saw me and he said up until a few minutes ago when I turned off my deck lights. I told him I never had my deck lights on, so we quickly figured out he had caught sight of the crab boat and was following him rather than me. A quick adjustment in the autopilot and in a few minutes we were off and running to Brookings.
The rest of the journey to Brookings was uneventful and we arrived late in the day. As we entered the harbor I called the Coast Guard and asked them how the bar was. They said it was open with no cautions. I probed them a bit further to see if we needed an escort, but it seemed as if it was as calm a day as they had ever seen, so we entered the range marker section and headed into what looked like a very narrow entrance! The closer I got to the entrance the more I realized the range markers would have put us on the north jetty, if we had followed them. For the life of me I can’t figure out why they would have them set up that way, but both Patrick and I felt the same way. Anyway, we had been warned that if we landed at Brookings we would be boarded by the Coast Guard, and in fact we were. Within 10 minutes of tying up two of the nicest young men you’ve ever met boarded the boat for an official Coast Guard Inspection. I had been boarded in my Camano earlier in the year, so I knew what to expect. I had my PFD’s, my EPIRB’s, documentations, Navigation Rules of the Road, Trash Plan, Fuel spill plan and all other necessary items ready for them to review. When complete, there were NO deficiencies found. We got a clean bill of health from the Coast Guard. On Paloma the only thing they had to do was update the flares in their ditch bag. Something easy to do and quick to implement. The only down side to our arrival at Brookings was the presence of Miss Sara. Miss Sara is a 90’ commercial net boat. And boy did Sara stink. And boy did the seagulls and every other flying, pooping creature like Sara. The smell coming from that boat was terrible, but we were too tired to move. So we went to dinner and then went to bed.
-Skipper

Day 15, September 2, 2007



I woke up at 1:00 a.m. and knew that Scott needed to get some sleep. He decided to go downstairs and sleep in the master suite where he slept a good 3 hours. It was so boring and uneventful in the night. You can’t see anything out there except for the navigation lights of the other boats. You spend most of the time staring at the two monitors. One monitor is the radar screen showing red dots where ever there are boats. The other screen with the Fleer on it acts as an infrared camera. It sees stuff in the dark. Most of the time you only saw birds flying by, and the waves. Really boring. I snacked on cheerios to keep myself awake, and talked a little bit to Susan with Paloma to keep the trip a bit more interesting. Occasionally the infrared screen would go all white with the fog. That was a bit unnerving. I wasn’t sure at first if it was working or not, but decided it had to be white because of the fog. After Scott took the helm at 4:00 in the morning, I jumped back in bed and slept another 4 hours. The anti-nausea patches really made me sleep well!

Since Scott and I knew that our destination in Coos Bay was coming soon, we got a bit more energized, and happy to touch land again. Scott went down to take a wonderful shower, and he came back up feeling like a new man. That’s when he decided to be silly and go out on the deck with just a towel for a “wind bath”. I was laughing so hard cuz his towel was flapping in the wind, and when he turned around he had toothpaste running sideways across his cheek. People get a little nutty when you’re out at sea for a while. Imagine if we took that trip to Hawaii….21 days at sea, non-stop. I’d go nuts.
Later on in the afternoon Scott went down for his routine engine room check and noticed a small diesel fuel leak. It wasn’t bad, but it concerned him quite a bit since many times these things can get worse. So he cleaned up the spilled fuel and wrapped the leaking area with diesel wipes. Then he called his buddy Captain Mike Maurice who has been transporting boats all over the world for many decades. Mike’s advice was to not deal with it now while we’re still underway, but to take care of it in Coos Bay. While we were making our way to shore for the next few more hours, our 3rd companion boat Wayward Wind decided to keep steaming ahead to Eureka, California. They had the luxury of two extra friends along, so their night shifts weren’t as bad as ours. But Susan, Jonathan and I needed a break from the rocking and rolling, and even tho’ the guys wanted to keep going, we convinced them that it would be a very bad idea. Mutiny could occur, and they weren’t willing to push it, thank goodness.
We finally make it into Coos Bay and arrive at the transient dock which was full of local people crabbing off the docks. The docks were a mess – full of bait guts, seaweed and yuk. Flies were everywhere, and it smelled pretty bad.
The people were so nice though – the salt of the earth kind of people. Jonathan, Scott and Susan went up to shore and met a salty man with a big scruffy beard (typical old fisherman) who was cleaning his catch at a makeshift sink. He chatted nicely with the kids but then forgot himself and slipped out a few cuss words now and then. He gave Jonathan the lens of a fish’s eye, and Jonathan took it back to the boat and put it in a cup of salt water. He was pleased with his souvenier, but his father (and eye surgeon) didn’t want to have anything to do with it. Susan bought some fresh albacore tuna right there off the dock and invited us for dinner. She barbequed it with soysauce, honey and cilantro (I think….maybe mustard in there as well). It was a delicious dinner followed by a red wine called Paloma which was the name that inspired Susan and Patrick to call their boat Paloma. It means “dove” in Spanish.

We decided to travel further south one more day before a week of bad weather was setting in, so we planned to leave the next morning to go to Brookings, Oregon. It sounded like a nicer town to get “stuck” in for a few days.

-Admiral Marian

As Marian mentioned above, I did get a bit crazy and go on the bow in a towel. I had just taken a shower and said to Marian “I’m the King of the World” when the image of Jack and Rose on the bow of the Titanic came into my mind. For some reason I then decided I needed a picture of me on the bow of my boat. I asked Marian to get the camera and struck a few poses at the bow. They are immortalized in digital media for everyone to enjoy.
Anyway after that craziness we prepared to dock in Coos Bay. I had the Douglass guide for the west coast and they related an experience pulling into Coos Bay where they had to tell all the crab fishermen on the transient dock to clear their lines. They related that the locals simply waved back at them and refused to move their pots until the last possible moment. So, as I pulled into a position to dock the boat I hollered to the line of crabbers: “There are two 40 foot boats that need to tie up right where you’re fishing, please move your lines”. No one moved a muscle. So, I did a 180 degree turn and headed right at the dock. I made it completely obvious to them that we were coming in, then they finally got up and started to pull in their traps. We tied up to the dock and within 2 minutes there were crab pots and lines surrounding the boat. I asked the crabbers to please be careful pulling in their pots and they obliged willingly. I then went to capture the lines for Patrick and Susan as they repeated the process with Paloma.
I felt really bad because I’d spent some time telling Susan and Marian how nice Coos Bay was. We had vacationed there a few years ago and found it a pleasant town. The problem was we were at the commercial docks rather than the town docks a few miles up the river. Susan and Marian suggested we limit our stay to one night, and head for Brookings in the morning. Patrick and I couldn’t have agreed more. Oh, I was able to lower the fuel level in the supply manifold, so during the time we were in Coos Bay we stopped leaking fuel, which was important as I was quickly going through my supply of bilge towels. As Marian and I turned in for the night, a new set of crabbers arrived at the dock. Sure enough, they set up their crabbing arrangements right outside our bow porthole. So, as Marian and I fell off to sleep, we got to hear all the latest and greatest poop about Fred and Ethel of Coos Bay. Somehow it seemed a wonderful way to fall asleep.

-Skipper

Day 14, September 1, 2007, At Sea

Scott came down and woke me up around 12:30 a.m. so that I could take over while he slept. It was helpful to have Patrick out there in Paloma advising me how many degrees to turn, and how to keep us all together, yet not too close together. Scott went to sleep on the sofa down in the salon, and only slept about an hour. I think he was too tense to sleep, even tho’ he was tired. Plus, I think he was listening to everything we were saying on the radio, which was a distraction. I went back to bed and didn’t wake up until it was light out the next morning. Scott was still going along like a drone, and he was exhausted. Somehow he managed to get through that day with just a short nap. I took many naps throughout the day since there was really nothing else to do. It’s really too rocky to read or type on the computer. I really wanted to vacuum and clean the boat up, but realized that wouldn’t be a good idea. I could imagine how many bruises I’d get trying to do that! It takes all of our efforts just to sneak a shower in without getting bumped around and bruised! So I spent most of my time watching television while lying down on the sofa, and since that was so snuggly, I’d end up falling asleep. We both decided to eat very lightly, and to keep me out of the galley where you tend to feel nauseas. I went to bed really early (8:45) as planned, and then woke up at 1:00 a.m. to relieve Scott at the helm.

Day 13, August 30, 2007, Neah Bay

We got up that morning to hear a nice weather report and good conditions. The seas were fairly calm, and the conditions couldn’t be better. So we headed out with a floatila of three – The Alanui, Paloma, and the Wayward Wind. We were feeling very comfortable with the other boats along side us. I could tell that Scott enjoyed talking with the other boats along the way and that it helped keep the trip more interesting. We reached Neah Bay around 4:00 that afternoon, and then turned south for a long night of continuous traveling.

The winds were fairly calm with 4 foot rollers about 10 seconds apart. I had put a quarter piece of scopolamine patch on the night before, and then kept adding more pieces on to add up to a whole. I was feeling great for most of the day until I had some of that left-over spaghetti and spent a good amount of time staring down at the computer. Big mistake. Lost it. I felt better after that, but was leary about doing too much after that. I went to bed around 9:30 that evening. Scott diligently stayed at the helm through most of the night
-Admiral Marian

Today dawns a new life for Marian and I. For the first time we will venture into the Pacific Ocean and travel down the coast of Washington, Oregon and California on the way to the FUBAR Odyssey. By the way, FUBAR is an acronym for Fleet Underway to BajA Rally. It’s the brain child of Bruce Kessler an accomplished race car driver and film producer who is passionate about the trawler life style. Bruce conceptualized the FUBAR in the fashion of the Baja Ha Ha, a sailboat rally from San Diego to La Paz Mexico. Bruce decided it was time for a powerboat version of the rally, and so he started this event. Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. As I said, today dawned a new day and the scene was spectacular. The winds were calm and frankly we had a forecast that was simply unbelievable. The Strait of Juan de Fuca can be a nasty body of water. Aligned with the prevailing westerly winds, it’s not uncommon for it to blow 20 to 30 knots for days on end. Today the forecast was for light and variable winds for the entire length of the strait. There are several reasons why this was beneficial for us. Today we hoped to travel the length of the strait and perhaps round the corner at Tatoosh Island and head south. We could only accomplish this if we had calm winds, because the prospect of spending our first night at sea after a rough transit of the strait was intimidating. If the forecast held true, today might mark the beginning of our first night at sea, as well our first travel in the Pacific Ocean, for Marian and I as a team.As Marian tended the lines Alanui lead the way out of the marina. We had agreed on a 6:30am departure and in good form, the three boats had their engines started and warming up at 6:15. A bit about our traveling companions. Paloma is a 43’ Nordhavn owned and operated by Patrick, Susan and Jonathan Coonan. I mentioned before that Patrick and I met at several Trawlerfest events and thought that cruising together might be fun. We coordinated this departure date and time, but really this begins the first significant time we have spent together. Paloma is a beautiful ship, as well appointed as any you will ever see! We hope to cruise with Patrick, Susan and Jonathan for quite some time, so it will be very interesting to see how this works out. Wayward Wind is also a 43’ Nordhavn owned and operated by Bill and Linda Edwards. I met Bill and Linda at the preliminary FUBAR event in L.A. several months before. It was by sheer coincidence that we arrived in the same departure location at the same time. Bill and Linda were on their way back to L.A. after spending the summer voyaging to Alaska. They were picking up additional crew at Pt. Angeles and shipping their beloved dog home so as not to expose him to the rigors of a multi day passage in the ocean. Bill and Linda had a very different approach to the passage than Patrick and I, as they hoped to transit the coast as quickly as they could, rather than harbor hopping as we were hoping to do. So, the stage is set. The three boats departed right on time and began the trip down the strait. We agreed that no single boat would lead the way, but that we would simply steer individual headings and keep within eyesight of each other as we made our way west. For the most part we were within a half mile of each other, sometimes Way Ward wind at the lead, sometimes Paloma and sometimes Alanui. It was a relaxed, easy voyage the entire length of the strait. There were patches of kelp and fishermen here and there, but for the most part it was a milk runAs we progressed through the day Patrick and I discussd logistics and travel plans. We agreed that conditions were so good and the forecast so favorable that we would not stop in Neah Bay, but rather continue in the ocean with Bill and Linda to proceed directly to Astoria OR. I’ll take a moment to describe what goes into this planning. You see, you can start with an idea of what you want to do and accomplish, but you have to remain open to changing it as conditions dictate. Just as the presence of a bad forecast or winds could have stopped us from leaving in the morning, the incredibly favorable conditions and forecast for the next 24 to 48 hours caused us to modify our plans. We had previously planned on making very few night passages, and certainly not the first night. However, with a forecast and previous 12 hours that was so calm we realized it would give us tremendous advantage to go ahead with a night passage on this first day of cruising. There really wasn’t much to see along the coast of Washington and we were anxious to put some miles under the keel. We used our navigation software to play with different speed and arrival times and determined that if we continued through the night we could be in Astoria by noon the following day. We planned to stop in Astoria, and the idea of getting there a day or two early was really appealing. So, we put a radio call into Bill and Linda telling them they would have company this evening.There are defining moments in every voyage. Major turning points that mark significant events, some are bigger than others, but each unique in its own way. Tatoosh Island is a windswept rock at the furthest point Northwest on the continental U.S.. For us it marked the turning point South and our entrance into the Pacific Ocean. You actually feel the rollers of the Pacific long before reaching Tatoosh, but this is where you’re really IN the ocean. Often your insurance policy will state that this is where your coverage ENDS! As we approached Tatoosh I swung Alanui around to get some good pictures of Paloma and Wayward wind.For me this was a very important moment as this was the first time Marian and I were outside the Puget Sound operating the boat. We have spent a lot of time preparing for this, but it’s never enough. We prayed for calm weather and good experiences to see us through this important phase of our journey. I so wanted Marian to have a good experience. So far she had been doing just great! She had begun using her Scopolamine patches and had reported no signs of nausea. She warmed up some spaghetti which we both consumed rapidly. Marian hopped up in the pilot house and started to capture some of her thoughts on the computer. The long, slow swells under the boat caused enough motion that as Marian used the computer, she became sea sick. She exited the pilot house to get some fresh air just in the nick of time. I remember watching her bend over the Portuguese bridge and I thought, oh no, this can’t be, is she really getting sick! It was my worst fear. We had voyaged in the Puget Sound for years and Marian had been able to fight off seasickness, often by going to sleep. We hoped the Scopolamine would do the trick. What we learned later is that even though you have a Scope patch on, you still have to manage the symptoms of seasickness very carefully. The combination of fixing and eating dinner, then trying to use the computer proved too much. We agreed that in the future will be pay very close attention to this and not simply assume the Scope patch will solve everything. Oh, note to self, make certain to discuss the use of the leeward side of the boat, rather than the windward side when dealing with seasickness.As Marian settled into the saloon to sleep off the effects of the nausea, I captured the picture below, of our first sunset at sea.As the sun sank I started to prepare the boat for night operations. This means dimming all the lights and paying very close attention to RADAR, cartography, autopilot headings and so forth. Loosing your ability to see while operating your boat at night is something that takes time to get comfortable with. I was also very anxious to see how my investment in an Infrared camera was going to pan out. I spent about $12,000 to buy a FLIR Mariner camera and a 19” Nauticomp display. My rationalization was it would pay for itself if it enabled me to dodge crab pots at night. At first I thought it was going to perform very well, but as I compared my visual picture with the IR picture I realized the technology has limitations that were going to prevent me from getting the kind of capabilities I’d hoped for. While you can see waves, birds and other objects, time and time again I’d approach a crab pot and only be able to pick it up on the display because I saw if visually first. Had I been just looking at the screen it would have been very, very difficult to see them in time to avoid running over them. Regardless, the technology is good and there are numerous other benefits it will provide. Common practice is to divide the day and night into “watches” and rotate crew through the responsibility of piloting the ship. There are many reasons to do this and often an insurance company will require you to have adequate crew onboard to insure a night can be transited with each member only standing one watch. I didn’t feel that Marian and I could adopt this approach right away because both of us are still building experience. Asking her to take command of the ship for more than an hour or two at night was asking too much. The approach I was adopting was to make certain I got rest during the day and that Marian headed off to bed as early in the evening as possible. I’d man the helm to the point where I knew I could go down for an hour or two of sleep and then turn it over to Marian. I knew if we tried to adopt a “watch” schedule I’d simply lay there in my bunk worrying about Marian being at the helm alone. On the other hand, if I stood watch to the point of really being tired, I could insure I’d go right off to sleep and get enough rest to then make it through the rest of the night. The risks of this approach were that I’d make some dumb mistake associated with being very tired. Well, this was my plan and I was commited to implement it. So, with Marian in bed I watched the helm until about 1:00am. At this point I woke Marian and she took the helm. I collapsed in the saloon and fell fast asleep. About an hour later I heard some radio chatter between Bill and Patrick and that woke me up. I sent Marian back to bed and watched the helm until Marian woke about 8 or 9. All in all watching the helm that night was not very difficult. I had enough to keep me occupied and I was very satisfied with the result. As the sun rose we had calm seas and almost no wind. Alanui, Paloma and Wayward droned on into the daylight.

-Skipper

***Shannon's comment: The pictures in Scott's entry are straight off the ship, I have been using stock photo gallery clips until now.