So after suffering through a week of November weather in June, the forecast for the Canada Day weekend and beyond is nothing but sun. Unfortunately as the sun arrived, the wind left. Saturday morning I was amped to go sailing but instead I was staring at the flat water out my window and feeling sorry for myself.
Brenda quickly suggested her go-to alternative, hiking. For a while I agreed but it just seemed like too nice a day not to be out on the water. Then I had a thought: We live on False Creek right next to David Lam park where this weekend there is free live music as part of the Vancouver Jazz Festival. Already I could see the boats taking up station near the park and the owners rowing ashore to enjoy the music. Normally we would just walk down and participate or listen through the window but I envied the "sail-up" approach the other guys were taking. So... in the end we walked to Coal Harbour where Ge'Mara is and motored out and around to False Creek to join the party.
Perhaps this seems like a bit of an odd thing to do but it gave me the chance to try getting in and out of the dinghy in calm friendly waters - something I should have done long ago. After a 90 minute motor from Coal Harbour we anchored just off David Lam park, ambled down into the dinghy and rowed ashore. Piece of cake. We didn't even have to tie up at the water taxi dock because the tide was so low. We just pulled the dinghy up on the rocks and walked up to the music.
Ge'Mara "on the hook" in False Creek
Rowing in.
As we were sitting enjoying a latin band I was starting to dream about a nice steak for dinner later on. I suddenly remembered we were completely out of propane for the barbecue. By the time we motored all the way back to my marina, walked home and went out to get propane it would be too late for a big dinner. The answer? Brenda went to get the propane and steaks while I single-handed the boat back to her slip. I've been wanting to try this for some time.
I rowed out solo back to the boat and after some minor challenges maneuvering to the ladder I climbed up and prepared for departure. I was a bit worried about getting the anchor up solo because there was a bit of an onshore breeze and I thought the boat might get blown into very shallow water while I was messing around with the anchor at the bow. I put the boat in forward gear but idle rpm's and scrambled to the bow to haul in the rode. At first the anchor was a bit stuck and I thought for a moment that I might run too far forward but it came free and in a few more breaths I was back to the wheel and motoring out of False Creek.
After a very pleasant ride back on my own I had only one more challenge: Docking. The plan was for Brenda to meet me back at the slip to help me come in but I secretly wanted to beat her there so I could attempt it on my own. Sure enough, she wasn't there quite in time. Fortunately there was barely a breath of wind. As I approached the marina I flipped the fenders back over the side and brought the long forward springline all the way aft. This way when I brought the boat to the slip I could step off with both bow and stern lines in hand. And that's pretty much how it went.
As I walked away from the marina I thought about how much fun the day had been and realized that wind is important - but not essential - to a fun day on the boat.
With the summer solstice just barely past, one could be excused for thinking that these long days would be the perfect backdrop for sailing, even on weekdays. Unfortunately here in Vancouver the summer is generally slow to start and June weather can be maddeningly uncooperative. Such is the case this week as I contemplate the thick grey cloud and falling mist out my window. For as much as I longed for warm summer days while sailing midwinter, I would almost trade today for one of those crisp, sunny, 5 degree days on the water with good wind and no competition for dock space at Snug Cove. But in reality this is just a short pause and soon enough Ge'Mara will be a busy lady.
The view outside my window is grey this week
My friend Tom will be visiting for the weekend this July 4 weekend and he's stoked for a sail. He likes to keep active so the plan is to combine sailing with hiking. The Gulf Islands provide many opportunities for this. Bowen Island has the Mount Gardener hike and only slightly further away, Gambier has Mount Artiban. With that done we might cross the strait and visit Silva Bay or Telegraph Harbour.
My business schedule dictates that August is the month for vacation. With that in mind I have two sails planned. Brenda and I are long overdue for a real excursion on the boat and that will happen early in August. Later in the month David and I are planning our longest journey yet, a trip to Nelson Island where his friend has a cabin. In between I suspect there will be shorter outings with friends and family.
Someone said that in each life a little rain must fall. So today I say bring it on. We live in the shadow of a rainforest after all. Soon enough we'll be on the water and wandering beneath lush ferns and furs, enjoying the sunnier side of a rainy climate. I wouldn't trade it for the world.
The Hunter Rendezvous we attended last weekend had the effect of making us feel young and Ge'Mara feel old. That is to say, the event was filled with retired couples of at least 10 or 15 years my senior and beautiful boats that were at least 20 years newer than ours. In hindsight it seems logical but sailboat cruising is a hobby dominated by retirees with money. Fortunately they all seem to LOVE happy hour so all was not lost - at least after 5pm.
Lots of boats in the marina
The ones with red flags were brand new on display
The first presentation of the day was on the maintenance of marine heads (toilets). Sadly, this is a compelling subject for all boaters. Marine heads are notoriously unreliable and frustrating. There is nothing quite so irritating to a boat owner when trying to impress friends and family as when a smelly, malfunctioning head is the most memorable thing about their outing. We learned that you should pour cooking oil and/or vinnegar down the head once a month to discourage crystals that form when seawater mixes with urine. We also heard from a guy who found out the reason why he couldn't pump seawater into the head was that a minnow was caught in the intake line, effectively plugging it. An audience participant volunteered to dismantle a sample head in front of everyone just to show how easy it is. David and I left the crowd and made a note to call the marine mechanic.
The rest of the day was spent listening to other seminars and walking around the grounds of the marina. There was a couple setting up an entire hind of beef and pretty much a whole pig on spits. These roasted and turned all day, making most of us hungry and the vegans more than a little nauseous.
Pig (or most of it) roasting on a spit
Towards the late afternoon the sun came out and we heard it was a nice walk around to the far side of the harbour to the other marina where there was a pub. We needed a little exercise so we took the opportunity and had a very pleasant stroll through the pastoral hills of Thetis Island. Life in the Gulf Islands is much different than in the city and nowhere is that more evident than here. We came upon a shop with a small collection of groceries and crafts (handmade crafts are the engine that drives the Gulf Island economy). No one was minding the shop and payment was on the honour system - simply pick your items and deposit cash in the lock box in the corner. We picked out a few items and very deliberately counted out the correct amount of cash, erring in favour of the proprietor of course. There is a feeling in these situations that there is a hidden camera somewhere, either literally or spiritually. I am not the sort to ever short change anyone but in this moment I feel particularly virtuous and I secretly hope someone somewhere is watching and nodding with approval.
Things that make you go hmmm...
Telegraph Harbour Marina as seen from
the pub on the other side of the Harbour
At the urging of a local brochure we also stopped on the way back at the famous Pot of Gold Coffee Roasting Co., a Thetis Island success story. Were were almost out of our bland Tim Horton's coffee on the boat and I was looking forward to drinking something a little more interesting the next morning. We walked into the fragrant shop and admired the packages of coffee that lined the shelves, waiting for our turn to order. After a while we spoke to a very gracefully aging woman who, upon hearing that we wanted coffee, looked around and said she was afraid she might not have any after all of the mail orders were filled. I looked at her for a moment, not quite sure what to say and eventually offered to come back the next day. She said "Would you? Apparently the wheels of commerce turn a little more slowly here.
Coffee, coffee everywhere but apparently none for us :(
That night we enjoyed a huge plate of pork and baron of beef with some red wine to wash it down. We took up with an older couple that owned a brand new beautiful 47ft Hunter that seemed palatial compared to Ge'Mara. We bribed ourselves on board with Single Malt scotch. Oddly, for all the fortunes these seniors spent on their boats, they couldn't fathom parting with the cash for a decent bottle of whiskey. As a result David and I were minor celebreties with our bottles of 18 year old malt and generous dispositions.
The next morning we said our goodbyes to the people we'd met and slipped our moorings. We had one more day and night left on our excursion. That morning we sat over (Tim Horton's ) coffee and discussed where we should go. A brisk wind had come up overnight and there was a strong wind warning in the strait. We debated the merits of making a fast and exciting crossing and spending the night on the Vancouver side of the strait and we even went the point of reefing the main at the dock. In the end however we elected to head north to Silva Bay on Gabriola Island.
One of the nicest little marinas I've ever been to.
We left Telegraph Harbour, this time coming back north up the West side of Thetis. The wind was coming from the northwest and we had hoped to sail at least part way to our destination. Unfortunately the wind was stronger than we had hoped and was blowing directly on our nose. We had to make Gabriola Passage by slack tide so we had no choice but to motor the entire way. On this, all I have to say is that long distance motoring in a sailboat is painful. At times we were fighting wind and current and were down to 2.5kts of boat speed. I was so frustrated that at one point I convinced David to let me bring out a reefed headsail in hopes of helping our little Yanmar diesel along. This was a mistake. The fabric on the trailing edge of our headsail (the leech) has come unsewn and the line that runs down the leech (the leech line) to keep it taught had pulled out of it's pocket and was trailing back from the sail. The genoa flapped wildly as we were too close the wind and shortly I was furling it back in. Maddeningly the trailing leech line had tangled our lanyard at a height beyond reach. So now we had the genoa flapping violently in the headwind and no way to bring it in because of the fouled leech line. Attempts to rectify the problem were frustrated by the jib sheets whipping back and forth across the deck. After getting the "I Told You So" look from David I went forward and took a beating for 20 minutes or so and finally got the genoa furled.
By the time we transited Gabriola Pass and arrived at Silva Bay I was tired and cranky. We had reserved a slip hours earlier by phone and now I was on the radio calling for assistance. The kid at the marina had warned us to be careful as the winds inside the harbour were still pretty high. Docking a sailboat in windy conditions can be an adventure. Fortunately for the bored fisherman who were sitting on their boats at dock, badly in need of entertainment, I was able to provide it. The kid had assigned us the worst possible slip given the direction of the wind. Even with two people on the dock to receive us the boat swung wildly away from the dock with the wind and I was madly working the engine trying to keep from ramming in to something. In the end I brought her close enough for David to toss the lines over and the guys were able to reign her in. However I managed to punctuate my sad docking effort by ramming Ge'Mara's bow into the dock. All around, other boaters were watching with expressions that ranged from amusement to pity. I paid for the moorage and on my return David sympathetically handed me a cold beer.
The rest of that day was uneventful and a little frustrating. The dock position we were assigned had the wind blowing directly into our cabin. Meanwhile I had forgotten to apply sunscreen - yet again - and was feeling the effects of too much sun. I was crabby in a way that cold beer couldn't fix and eventually David retreated to his V birth for a nap and I went for a walk on the Island. Later that evening I was still sulking but the wind died down so David put some burgers on the barbecue and soon we were eating and chatting with our boat neighbours.
The next morning we ate a hasty breakfast of cold cereal and prepared to leave. We were both ready to get home to our ladies and comfortable beds. The wind had died somewhat from yesterday but was still brisk. We left the shelter of Silva Bay, pointed Ge'Mara on a broad reach back to Vancouver and headed home. We started with just our still-reefed main and made reasonable speed but after a while we shook the reef out and improved our performance. In the end we pulled the genoa out and freed the leech line from it's tangle. Now under full sail we raced a following boat back to Coal Harbour. Before long we were trudging up the hill from the marina looking forward to being home.
Not long after David and I purchased Ge'Mara we decided that we needed to plan a 3 - 4 day trip in the spring that we could work towards. It feels like we have a handle on the boat now but back then it was all so new to us - crossing the strait, navigating tidal passes threading through shoals and islands in unfamiliar waters... We knew we'd need a specific trip to work towards, lest we get lazy and keep sailing in the same familiar local waters.
The excuse we needed came in the form of the 2013 Hunter Rendezvous. We've learned that boat owners have their own little "conferences" on the water that are generally known as a rendezvous. These are specific to a type of boat, in our case Hunter. It's an excuse for boat owners to get with their own kind and compare notes on similar craft. It's also an excuse for the manufacturer (who is generally the sponsor) to show off their latest models and sleuth out potential upgrade candidates. In the end it's an equal measure of eating, drinking, congenial conversation and sharing of information.
Our event was being held in Telegraph Harbour on Thetis Island, a more picturesque place you'll never find. We departed Vancouver on Friday May 31 under clearing skies - the first after a week of cloud and significant rain. It was a beautiful crossing, if not a bit mellow. There was a gentle 5kt breeze blowing that kept just enough wind in Ge'Mara's sails to justify not starting the engine. As exciting as it is to be healed over and flying across the water, there is something to be said for placid, drama free sailing in light winds.
We plotted a course from the Pt. Grey bellbuoy to Porlier Pass at the North end of Galiano Island. Having made the crossing, this would be our next challenge. The tides in BC waters are quite pronounced and in the Gulf Islands there are only so many navigable passes between the Georgia Strait and inside the islands. These passes concentrate the tidal waters and during full flood or ebb can be tricky if not downright hazardous. When traveling in a sailboat it's important to check the tide and current tables to ensure you are transiting the pass during slack tide, or at least before the ebb/flood becomes unmanageable. In the end, Porlier Pass was a non-event - thankfully. We went through near the slack so there was almost no noticeable current. All we had to do was keep an eye on our chart so as to avoid the rocks and shallow areas which are for the most part all on the North side of the pass. Another irrational fear bites the dust.
Porlier Pass at slack tide - no big deal
Once through Porlier it we motored quietly to the south, threading our way through small islands en route to the south end of Thetis Island. It was now dinner time and the calm waters and picture perfect views in every direction lulled us into long spells of contemplative silence.
The reverie was broken by a sudden lurch and loud bang. As we were rounding the marker at the south end of Thetis at what we thought was a respectable distance our keel hit a rock. David and I looked at each other with wide eyes. The depth sounder was now reading only 5ft of water but we didn't need that data to realize our folly. All around us the bottom was clearly visible and rocks reached up at us menacingly. Ge'Mara draws 6ft. under her keel. For a long moment we cringed and braced as I steered the boat further away from the marker, waiting for the inevitable crunch of our next contact. Thank God, we made it back to deeper water without further incident. Once we were safely away from the shallow area David went below to inspect the bilges for signs of water. Nothing was evident and once we calmed down we realized that we probably just grazed the top of the rock. In the case of a direct hit it's not the iron keel that will give, it's the hull where the keel is bolted.
We learned some valuable lessons from this. First, being on the correct side of a buoy does not guarantee your safety. Without the benefit of local knowledge, extra vigilance and a wide margin of error is prudent. Second, we did not have the depth alarm on our sounder turned on - something we immediately rectified. Jittery from this experience, we motored hyper-cautiously into the very shallow Telegraph Harbour and called the marina on the radio.
The entrance to Telegraph Harbour - very shallow
We were among the last to arrive at the rendezvous and the marina was packed. At first it looked like we were going to need to a "Mediterranean tie", which involves dropping your anchor, backing towards the dock and tying up at the stern. This is a method of accommodating a large number of boats in a small space. Neither of us had done this before. Fortunately they found a more traditional space for us elsewhere and before long we were tied up and lounging in the cockpit with a much needed beer, chatting with the other boat owners. More about those guys in part II
