A New Challenge - Day 1

It's mid-March and we've had the boat for over two months now.  Over that time we've had quite a few day trips that offered a mixed bag of sailing.  But the last few day-sails have been terrific, with sunny weather, reasonably good wind and the discovery of possibly the best bacon-cheeseburger ever made.

Buoyed by our successes, David and I decided to take on a bigger challenge.  Time for an overnight trip.  Let me just say at this point that spending the entire night and the better part of two days on a boat is best done with one's wife/girlfriend, for obvious reasons.  Unfortunately neither of our partners are particularly keen on venturing out on the boat for any length of time much before the month of June.  So a guys trip it is - and just as well.  It turns out we have a few more kinks to iron out before we formally introduce the ladies to the pleasures of sailing.

The forecast for the weekend was rain on Saturday, a bit of sun on Sunday and lots of wind the whole time.  In fact there was a gale warning for the overnight hours.  For some reason this didn't worry us half as much as it probably should have.

We headed out just after lunch on Saturday afternoon with lots of wind blowing on shore.  That same West wind blew directly in our faces as we arrived at English Bay and we knew we would be in for a long and time consuming series of tacks to get to our first waypoint and turn away from the wind.  We opted, for different reasons this time, to motor directly to Point Atkinson.  The plan was to go behind Bowen Island, past Gambier and around the back side of Keats Island, finally settling in Plumper Cove, a little marine preserve just opposite Gibsons, BC.

Our Route from Vancouver to Plumper Cove

Past the point we picked up a bit of wind in Howe Sound next to Bowen and decided to raise the sails.  We made decent way downhill until it was time to turn the corner and then, WHAM!  Even though we were only flying a partial headsail, the boat heeled way over in protest.  Normally this would be our cue to douse the sails and motor, but not today.  I hove the boat to in preparation for reefing the main.  As I was taught I backwinded the genoa and applied full opposite rudder.   The boat frustratingly spun around for a bit but finally settled and we were hove to.  I set about trying to reef the main but something wasn't working.  Meanwhile we were drifting into the ferry lane and the Queen of Surrey was bearing down on us fast.  Reluctantly I gave up on reefing and we started the iron sail once again.

We had gotten a late start so even though the wind seemed manageable at times we decided to just motor on to our destination to ensure we had plenty of daylight to secure a mooring buoy and settle in.  We spent what seemed to be a very long time motoring on through a strong headwind, growing seas and rain.  Somewhere along the way we realized that this was the start of what the gale warning was forecasting.  It occurred to us not for the first time that this may not have been a great plan.

By the time we pulled into Plumper Cove the rain was driving hard and stinging our faces.  There were a few boats already tied up at shore and a few people huddled under cover looking at us like they wondered if we knew what we were doing.  Fortunately I had done this before.  Catching a mooring buoy is like landing an airplane:  You come in on a downwind approach, turn crosswind and then make your final approach to the buoy into the wind so you won't get blown off course.  David huddled on the bow with the boat hook ready to snag the buoy and both of us willed him not to miss it.  Fortunately he caught it like an expert and had the bow line secured in no time.  The people on shore turned back to what they were doing, their disappointment at our success obvious.  We went below and made a cup of tea and drank in silence - neither one of us wanting to be the one to suggest this was a bad idea.

After calling a knowledgeable friend and confirming that no, the mooring buoy would not break free in high wind, we decided to settle in for the night rather than bolting across the channel to Gibsons.  To our great relief the wind seemed to change direction.  Initially it seemed that the full force of the forecasted 35 knot winds would be blowing directly into our little cove but after a while it shifted and while we heard it howling in the trees at higher elevation, Plumper Cove was blessedly calm.  We were even able to fire up the barbecue and grill the ridiculously large steaks I had purchased for the occasion.  A bit later we chewed our beef and drank red wine with droopy eyes.  Not long after that we were ensconced in opposite ends of the boat, snug in our sleeping bags and snoring fiercely.