It was a sunny day today but this weekend's boating activities were restricted the classroom.
Most boats over 20ft or so have a VHF radio. For coastal cruising in the age of cell phones it's tempting to think of the radio as unnecessary but it is actually an important safety tool and as such, worth knowing how to use properly. VHF radio is also the basis for more advanced and very useful technologies such as Digital Selective Calling (DSC) and Automatic Information System (AIS). Not everybody cares about such things but in the end, you need to have a radio on a boat our size and you need to have a permit to operate it so hence David and I we found ourselves in the classroom today.
We learned that there is a hierarchy to for the types of calls one can make/receive on a VHF radio. In order of priority they are:
1) Distress - Boater is in immediate danger. Radio hail: Mayday, Mayday Mayday
2) Urgent - Boater is in difficulty but not immediate danger. Radio hail: Pan, Pan, Pan
3) Safety - Weather or navigational hazard. Radio hail: Securite, Securite, Securite
4) Everything else
We have been hearing all of these words and terms on the radio while sailing but it's nice to know now what it all means. More importantly, we know how to use the radio properly in case of an emergency. Beyond that, the really cool part is the spinoff technologies such as AIS that are becoming commonplace. Vessels equipped with AIS use the VHF radio to continuously transmit information about their location and heading, along with general info such as vessel size and MMSI number. This new tool has made it possible for boaters to see all commercial boating activity around them in order to avoid close calls or even collisions.
A vessel the size of Ge'Mara doesn't need an AIS transmitter but we can still benefit from seeing what everyone else is doing. For this we don't even need a special piece of equipment - there are I-Phone apps that display AIS data from ships in the area superimposed on a map. So for example, when we leave Coal Harbour for a sail we can check our "Shipfinder" AIS app and see what tugs, freighters or tankers are heading under the Lions Gate Bridge and make plans to avoid them.
All in all it was day well spent. I was happy enough with the 83% mark I received on the test but mildly perturbed that David beat me by a point.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Thursday, March 21, 2013
A New Challenge - Day 2
In my experience, everything always looks better in the morning and this day was no exception. The night had been reasonably quiet. Even though we could hear the wind howling in the rigging, the water in our little cove remained relatively calm. In the dead of night on a boat you become acutely aware of everything that is not properly secured and the wave action produces a symphony of creaks, bumps and other noises made by loose items. These must be systematically dealt with, lest they drive you completely mad or at the very least, keep you from a decent nights sleep. After getting up several times to make adjustments I settled in to what was quite a restful night except for the occasional bumping of the dinghy against the transom. This was mildly irritating, not just because of the noise but because we had taken care to properly secure the dinghy before retiring. Demonstrating to David some skills I learned in my sailing classes, I tied the dinghy tight into the transom by both the bow and stern, leaving three fenders in between to act as a buffer. Foolproof I thought.
Anyway, with the diesel heater humming and the coffee pot gurgling I opened the hatch and peeked outside to find a beautiful blue sky. Such a relief after the night before. I went below again to pour a cup of coffee and returned the to the cockpit for a good look around. Morning is my absolute favourite time of day and for long moments I sat and contemplated our beautiful surroundings, disturbed only by the sound of the dinghy bumping the boat. I still had no idea what I had done wrong until David mentioned that two of our brand new fenders that we had tied to the transom were gone. In my haste I had used simple clove hitches to tie the fenders to the stern rail - great knots for temporary use and quick release but apparently not so secure. Only one of the three remained.
We briefly contemplated a light breakfast, given the feast of steak we had enjoyed not that many hours earlier. We dismissed this thought quickly and David made an excellent spread of bacon and eggs, supported by leftover potato and onions from the previous night.
While he was below cooking I stepped onto the foredeck and confronted the problem of reefing. In the light of day and with the help of caffeine I realized my problem: I had attempted to reef without releasing the mainsheet or boom vang. These both create downward pressure on the boom and must be eased in order to put in a reef. After breakfast David and I came back up top and put in a double reef and tied up the excess mainsail at the bottom with the reefing lines. As I was doing this I realized that this is where you're supposed to use a reef knot. It was all coming together. Then I looked up and saw a boat fender floating out of the cove. For a brief moment I thought it was one of the ones we lost the night before but to my dismay I realized it was the third fender that hadn't managed to work its way loose. After loosing two brand new fenders we didn't have the sense to properly secure the third one. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Not long after we slipped our moorings and headed out of the cove to start the return trip using a reciprocal course from yesterday. We knew to expect heavy wind but we were reasonably confident having pre-reefed the main. After motoring for a few moments into the middle of the channel we tentatively raised the main in the blustery wind and found it more than manageable. Today would be mostly downwind which any sailor will tell you is a much more comfortable point of sail. As we gained confidence we used more and more of the headsail and eventually settled into a beautiful downwind run at 6 knots. As is the case when running downwind, you'd have thought we were standing still.
The winds in the Gulf Islands of BC are notoriously fickle as they are influenced by so many factors. After a fun and relaxing downwind run between Bowen and Gambir Islands we turned the corner into Howe Sound and died. I've heard that the trade winds in the Caribbean blow continuously day after day in the same direction and velocity. I look forward to experiencing that.
We motored through Queen Charlotte Channel past Snug Cove and prepared for the last leg of our trip. We knew that the wind was blowing at close to 25 knots from the Strait of Georgia directly into English Bay. Brenda had e-mailed me a picture of a sailboat that had already gone aground in the bay and her message wasn't lost on me. We ventured out into the strait with our double reefed main and very limited headsail. At this point the wind and waves were on our beam and I prepared for heeling well over but our preparation paid off and the boat was well under control. We headed well toward Point Grey before we made our turn downwind toward home in order to optimize our point of sale.
Once we made our turn it was like riding a restless but benign race horse. The wind pushed us effortlessly to our boat's top speed of 7 knots, even with a reefed main. Quartering seas made it a challenge to keep the boom on one side as the boat rocked with each big roller that passed beneath. It was great fun.
As we neared the Lions Gate bridge it was a great temptation to continue sailing right under the bridge but that isn't allowed so reluctantly we turned her nose back into the wind and doused the sails. Another trip over, a few more lessons learned. Some minor, some significant, all valuable.
Anyway, with the diesel heater humming and the coffee pot gurgling I opened the hatch and peeked outside to find a beautiful blue sky. Such a relief after the night before. I went below again to pour a cup of coffee and returned the to the cockpit for a good look around. Morning is my absolute favourite time of day and for long moments I sat and contemplated our beautiful surroundings, disturbed only by the sound of the dinghy bumping the boat. I still had no idea what I had done wrong until David mentioned that two of our brand new fenders that we had tied to the transom were gone. In my haste I had used simple clove hitches to tie the fenders to the stern rail - great knots for temporary use and quick release but apparently not so secure. Only one of the three remained.
We briefly contemplated a light breakfast, given the feast of steak we had enjoyed not that many hours earlier. We dismissed this thought quickly and David made an excellent spread of bacon and eggs, supported by leftover potato and onions from the previous night.
While he was below cooking I stepped onto the foredeck and confronted the problem of reefing. In the light of day and with the help of caffeine I realized my problem: I had attempted to reef without releasing the mainsheet or boom vang. These both create downward pressure on the boom and must be eased in order to put in a reef. After breakfast David and I came back up top and put in a double reef and tied up the excess mainsail at the bottom with the reefing lines. As I was doing this I realized that this is where you're supposed to use a reef knot. It was all coming together. Then I looked up and saw a boat fender floating out of the cove. For a brief moment I thought it was one of the ones we lost the night before but to my dismay I realized it was the third fender that hadn't managed to work its way loose. After loosing two brand new fenders we didn't have the sense to properly secure the third one. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Not long after we slipped our moorings and headed out of the cove to start the return trip using a reciprocal course from yesterday. We knew to expect heavy wind but we were reasonably confident having pre-reefed the main. After motoring for a few moments into the middle of the channel we tentatively raised the main in the blustery wind and found it more than manageable. Today would be mostly downwind which any sailor will tell you is a much more comfortable point of sail. As we gained confidence we used more and more of the headsail and eventually settled into a beautiful downwind run at 6 knots. As is the case when running downwind, you'd have thought we were standing still.
The winds in the Gulf Islands of BC are notoriously fickle as they are influenced by so many factors. After a fun and relaxing downwind run between Bowen and Gambir Islands we turned the corner into Howe Sound and died. I've heard that the trade winds in the Caribbean blow continuously day after day in the same direction and velocity. I look forward to experiencing that.
We motored through Queen Charlotte Channel past Snug Cove and prepared for the last leg of our trip. We knew that the wind was blowing at close to 25 knots from the Strait of Georgia directly into English Bay. Brenda had e-mailed me a picture of a sailboat that had already gone aground in the bay and her message wasn't lost on me. We ventured out into the strait with our double reefed main and very limited headsail. At this point the wind and waves were on our beam and I prepared for heeling well over but our preparation paid off and the boat was well under control. We headed well toward Point Grey before we made our turn downwind toward home in order to optimize our point of sale.
Once we made our turn it was like riding a restless but benign race horse. The wind pushed us effortlessly to our boat's top speed of 7 knots, even with a reefed main. Quartering seas made it a challenge to keep the boom on one side as the boat rocked with each big roller that passed beneath. It was great fun.
As we neared the Lions Gate bridge it was a great temptation to continue sailing right under the bridge but that isn't allowed so reluctantly we turned her nose back into the wind and doused the sails. Another trip over, a few more lessons learned. Some minor, some significant, all valuable.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
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.
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.
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.
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| 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.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
More Great Sailing...
...And more things to fix.
Once again the forecast called for outstanding weather on Saturday March 9 so I made plans with my buddy for a day on the boat. All in all it was uneventful but fun - the best kind of day. Unlike last week with David when the wind was a bit hairy and the VHF was full of reports of people running aground, this was the perfect wind. English Bay was once again glassy but I'm not getting fooled by that anymore and we found the forecasted wind just past Point Atkinson. We had good fun playing around off Bowen Island and when we got hungry it was a beautiful downwind run into Howe Sound right up to the entrance to Snug Cove.
Unfortunately we had a bit of a snag. When I went to drop the main, the halyard wouldn't release. The clips that secure the main lines coming into the cockpit are an older type that I had never seen prior to seeing Ge'mara. Neither David or I are huge fans of them but they seemed to be working - until now. We had turned 180 degrees back into the wind under power to get the sails down and now we were slowly motoring further and further away from Sung Cove and my burger and beer while the halyard stubbornly refused to release. I finally went below, fished out a screwdriver from the toolbox and was able to "encourage" the clip to release. As I set about doing this I noticed that the wheel that bites into the line had been scored by something. None of the other clips bore these marks. I realized then that someone before me had been forced into a screwdriver intervention. Likely we'll have to replace the clips - the ability to quickly release the main halyard is not a convenience, it's a safety issue. I'm glad we encountered this on a nice day rather than during a sudden squall when we needed the main down in a hurry.
We got the main down soon enough and enjoyed another great lunch at Bowen Island Pub. Heading back out we were greeted by that same South wind blowing into Howe Sound and we were able to bring Ge'Mara's sails up in record time. We settled into a perfect point of sail for us to round Point Atkinson and head for home. Nothing had changed in English Bay since the morning so we ran out of wind once we came around the point. No matter, it had been a great day. So with the help of the screwdriver I once again released the main halyard and doused the sails. We motored in and enjoyed the view of snow capped mountains against a backdrop of brilliant blue skies. What's not to like?
Once again the forecast called for outstanding weather on Saturday March 9 so I made plans with my buddy for a day on the boat. All in all it was uneventful but fun - the best kind of day. Unlike last week with David when the wind was a bit hairy and the VHF was full of reports of people running aground, this was the perfect wind. English Bay was once again glassy but I'm not getting fooled by that anymore and we found the forecasted wind just past Point Atkinson. We had good fun playing around off Bowen Island and when we got hungry it was a beautiful downwind run into Howe Sound right up to the entrance to Snug Cove.
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| English Bay was like glass as usual but good wind was on the horizon |
Unfortunately we had a bit of a snag. When I went to drop the main, the halyard wouldn't release. The clips that secure the main lines coming into the cockpit are an older type that I had never seen prior to seeing Ge'mara. Neither David or I are huge fans of them but they seemed to be working - until now. We had turned 180 degrees back into the wind under power to get the sails down and now we were slowly motoring further and further away from Sung Cove and my burger and beer while the halyard stubbornly refused to release. I finally went below, fished out a screwdriver from the toolbox and was able to "encourage" the clip to release. As I set about doing this I noticed that the wheel that bites into the line had been scored by something. None of the other clips bore these marks. I realized then that someone before me had been forced into a screwdriver intervention. Likely we'll have to replace the clips - the ability to quickly release the main halyard is not a convenience, it's a safety issue. I'm glad we encountered this on a nice day rather than during a sudden squall when we needed the main down in a hurry.
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| The main halyard clip (right) is starting to jam and will need to be replaced |
We got the main down soon enough and enjoyed another great lunch at Bowen Island Pub. Heading back out we were greeted by that same South wind blowing into Howe Sound and we were able to bring Ge'Mara's sails up in record time. We settled into a perfect point of sail for us to round Point Atkinson and head for home. Nothing had changed in English Bay since the morning so we ran out of wind once we came around the point. No matter, it had been a great day. So with the help of the screwdriver I once again released the main halyard and doused the sails. We motored in and enjoyed the view of snow capped mountains against a backdrop of brilliant blue skies. What's not to like?
Monday, March 4, 2013
The Day We've Been Waiting For
As I've mentioned previously, we've had some decent outings on Ge'Mara in the two months since we bought her but the wind has been inconsistent. As a result we've had more like half-days, with the other half consisting of monotonous motoring or bobbing around. The perfect day that I'd been imagining since we first considered buying the boat had eluded us. Yesterday, finally, was that day.
We were greeted in English Bay by a fresh breeze, a nice change from the norm. So for once we only motored a safe distance off shore before raising sail. The wind these weeks has been coming almost straight in from the West which makes it difficult to get out of English Bay. For a while we made some long tacks in moderate and changeable winds and it almost seemed as though we might be disappointed again. Then, out of nowhere, the wind came and we were off for a ride. As often happens, the wind had lulled us into raising all of our sail so when about 20 knots started hitting us off Pt. Atkinson it was a little unsettling. To add to the ride, we were on a beam reach and the rollers coming in from the Strait were hitting us broadside. Various items we (I) had failed to secure crashed around in the cabin. One of these was the morning coffee pot. Fortunately David had emptied the coffee into his thermos but it still sprinkled the coffee grounds liberally around the cabin.
Right around then is when you realize how important it is to reef the main early. "Reefing" is simply adjusting the main sail so it is smaller and holds less wind. The saying goes "If you're thinking about reefing, it's time to reef." I had thought about reefing several times earlier but the wind seemed manageable at that point. Now, heeled way over and taking the waves broadside, we realized that we had never practiced reefing together without a 3rd man in the boat. Hmmm... So instead we shortened the Genoa (the sail in the front) and the boat seemed manageable.
Initially we were thinking of taking full advantage of the wind and not stopping for lunch but after a while on this beam reach we were ready for a break so we sailed into the channel toward Bowen Island and Snug cove. As we motored into the marina we listened to the VHF radio as the Coast Guard responded to a distress call - a sail boat blown onto shore back in English Bay.
There is nothing like a pub lunch when you're sailing and the experience this day did not disappoint. The bacon cheeseburger was the best I'd had in a while - super juicy and very tasty. As I washed it down with a cold beer I ran through the mental exercise of pushing my non-existent Sensible Eating Regimen back another day. Bowen Island is just a few minutes from Horseshoe Bay by ferry but when you take half a day to sail there it seems much farther. We enjoyed chatting with the locals about the closing of the tourist pub Doc Morgans and the local baseball team.
Back on the boat, David took her away from the slip smartly and we motored back out into Howe Sound. I was a bit worried that our wind would be finished and we would be forced into a long motor home. Thankfully there was still a good puff around Point Atkinson and we raised the sails once again. We shot past the point, again on a beam reach, waiting for the right time to make our turn and head downwind directly towards the Lions Gate Bridge in the distance.
After a while we made our turn and changed our sail configuration to "wing on wing." This is the only time when the foresail is on one side of the boat and the main is on the other. It's a fun way to sail but a little dangerous because with quartering seas like we had, the main can come crashing over to the other side quite easily. At first, in the turbulent water off Point Atkinson this was a problem. Soon however, the seas calmed a bit and we returned home in that wonderfully quiet downwind state where you'd swear there is no wind at all, even though the GPS indicates a boat speed of 6 knots. The jacket came off and I let the setting sun warm my back as we cruised home. Finally we had our perfect day of sailing.
We were greeted in English Bay by a fresh breeze, a nice change from the norm. So for once we only motored a safe distance off shore before raising sail. The wind these weeks has been coming almost straight in from the West which makes it difficult to get out of English Bay. For a while we made some long tacks in moderate and changeable winds and it almost seemed as though we might be disappointed again. Then, out of nowhere, the wind came and we were off for a ride. As often happens, the wind had lulled us into raising all of our sail so when about 20 knots started hitting us off Pt. Atkinson it was a little unsettling. To add to the ride, we were on a beam reach and the rollers coming in from the Strait were hitting us broadside. Various items we (I) had failed to secure crashed around in the cabin. One of these was the morning coffee pot. Fortunately David had emptied the coffee into his thermos but it still sprinkled the coffee grounds liberally around the cabin.
Right around then is when you realize how important it is to reef the main early. "Reefing" is simply adjusting the main sail so it is smaller and holds less wind. The saying goes "If you're thinking about reefing, it's time to reef." I had thought about reefing several times earlier but the wind seemed manageable at that point. Now, heeled way over and taking the waves broadside, we realized that we had never practiced reefing together without a 3rd man in the boat. Hmmm... So instead we shortened the Genoa (the sail in the front) and the boat seemed manageable.
Initially we were thinking of taking full advantage of the wind and not stopping for lunch but after a while on this beam reach we were ready for a break so we sailed into the channel toward Bowen Island and Snug cove. As we motored into the marina we listened to the VHF radio as the Coast Guard responded to a distress call - a sail boat blown onto shore back in English Bay.
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| David by the boat at Snug Cove on Bowen Island |
There is nothing like a pub lunch when you're sailing and the experience this day did not disappoint. The bacon cheeseburger was the best I'd had in a while - super juicy and very tasty. As I washed it down with a cold beer I ran through the mental exercise of pushing my non-existent Sensible Eating Regimen back another day. Bowen Island is just a few minutes from Horseshoe Bay by ferry but when you take half a day to sail there it seems much farther. We enjoyed chatting with the locals about the closing of the tourist pub Doc Morgans and the local baseball team.
Back on the boat, David took her away from the slip smartly and we motored back out into Howe Sound. I was a bit worried that our wind would be finished and we would be forced into a long motor home. Thankfully there was still a good puff around Point Atkinson and we raised the sails once again. We shot past the point, again on a beam reach, waiting for the right time to make our turn and head downwind directly towards the Lions Gate Bridge in the distance.
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| Wing on wing sail configuration |
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| On a beam reach in a fresh wind |
After a while we made our turn and changed our sail configuration to "wing on wing." This is the only time when the foresail is on one side of the boat and the main is on the other. It's a fun way to sail but a little dangerous because with quartering seas like we had, the main can come crashing over to the other side quite easily. At first, in the turbulent water off Point Atkinson this was a problem. Soon however, the seas calmed a bit and we returned home in that wonderfully quiet downwind state where you'd swear there is no wind at all, even though the GPS indicates a boat speed of 6 knots. The jacket came off and I let the setting sun warm my back as we cruised home. Finally we had our perfect day of sailing.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Heeding the Call
I've been spanked by a nasty flu this week. I was fighting the symptoms late in the week and feeling a little woozy at work and my outlook for the weekend was rest, reading and hot tea. But once again the forecast has proven too much to resist. Today (Sunday) has dawned fair, with blue sky and nice wind in the forecast. My flu has tidied up nicely thanks to an early night and a shot of Niquil. Brenda even bought some Vicks Vapo-Rub for me, bless her heart.
So off I go in a little while. Perhaps today we'll get a full day under sail without the wind dying.
So off I go in a little while. Perhaps today we'll get a full day under sail without the wind dying.
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| Web cam shot of Jericho Beach this morning. Flu or not, who can resist? |
Monday, February 25, 2013
Reading of the Sea
Settling in to another work week with rain in the forecast, sailing is on hold for a while. This is easier said than done. Tonight I found myself at home scanning the bookshelf for something nautical. I pass over a few cheesy novels, stop at an old gem and thumb to the first page. I can't help but smile - I've found a great way to spend the next few rainy nights.
“Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.”
Herman Melville
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Wind: Feast or Famine
Since we brought the boat home we've been frustrated by weekends of fog, rain and most of all, light winds. Even our best sails have been no more than a couple of hours before we were becalmed and had to motor home. But we've had our fair share of time on the boat over the last month so neither of us had plans to go out this weekend. Then the wind came. Near the end of the week we were finally seeing real wind in the forecast - 20 - 25 knots and more out in the strait. The forecast for Saturday was sunny skies and brisk winds so we decided to use up a little more goodwill from the ladies and head out.
Oddly, on Saturday morning there was no wind - in spite of a gale warning issued by Environment Canada. We decided to take it on faith and we met at the boat at about 11am. Even then there was only 2 knots of wind indicated at Point Atkinson. It seemed the most gorgeous sailing day yet as we left the marina - the sun warm in our faces. The breeze picked up as we turned toward First Narrows and it seemed certain we'd get a decent sail this day.
It quickly became apparent how seriously we had underestimated the weather that day. As we neared the bridge we started bobbing over ponderous rolling waves that were coming in from English Bay, almost like the wake from a large ship that was nowhere to be seen. Once out in the bay, these rollers became more regular and pronounced. Before long we were pitching quite a bit and occasionally burying the bow in water. Looking around there were no other sailboats on the water. These waves began to remind me of a similar day a few years ago when, on a training course, my boat was knocked down by a gust of wind. We toyed for a few moments with the idea of flying a small headsail but soon thought better of it and turned the boat around. The ocean spit us back into Coal Harbour at about 8 knots and we motored back home with a mixture of disappointment and relief.
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| The forecast for the day - ominous |
Oddly, on Saturday morning there was no wind - in spite of a gale warning issued by Environment Canada. We decided to take it on faith and we met at the boat at about 11am. Even then there was only 2 knots of wind indicated at Point Atkinson. It seemed the most gorgeous sailing day yet as we left the marina - the sun warm in our faces. The breeze picked up as we turned toward First Narrows and it seemed certain we'd get a decent sail this day.
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| Current conditions - calm before the storm |
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
The Chandlery
The traditional name for a marine supply store is a chandlery. According to Wikipedia the name is derived from centuries ago when candles were such a big item that entire businesses were dedicated to their manufacture and sale. Apparently boat parts went hand-in-hand with candles so it became common practice for candle sellers to stock marine supplies as well. Then again, using that logic they would also sell beer.
Before learning to sail I was always fascinated by chandleries. There's an unexplainable feel about them that is something between a hardware store and a book store. You can wander for hours looking at various gadgets and ropes, imagining what their practical use might be. Now that I have a boat you might think the novelty would be diminished but far from it. David and I take advantage of every excuse to make a visit, except now we stride in with the confident sense of purpose that only Boat Owners possess. In truth, we still don't know what half of the stuff is for but we make far more educated guesses.
In Vancouver there are lots of Chandleries to choose from, ranging from the little one in our Marina to megastores like West Marine. Quickly becoming my favourite is one that David introduced me to called Martin Marine in North Vancouver. Unlike the megastores, it has the small, cozy feel that bookstores used to have before Chapters and Barnes and Noble came along. The floor undulates, seemingly with the ground beneath it, and is made variously of either cement or old 2x12's that look like they were taken from a dismantled pier. One of the charms of places like this is the eclectic mix of commonly used modern items and other more dated items that look to have been there for a very long time.
The other day, David and I were looking at our dock lines and fenders and realized that they were rather old and tattered. Safety issues aside, they suddenly seemed quite unsightly and we concluded they had to go - lest we look like amateurs. We made a trip to Martin Marine and picked up some new white fenders and packages of fresh blue line to tie them to the boat with. We also bought some new dock lines. As a bonus, the guy who sold them to us also showed us a quick way to make a clove hitch. We listened intently.
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| New fenders |
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| New dockline |
David also purchased 100ft of rope specifically to use for raising the dinghy with his block and tackle. He was determined to figure that particular problem out. The next day we went to the boat at lunch and replaced the dock lines and fenders with the new ones. We stood back and assessed the boat - it looked decidedly more professional. Later that day, with the help of David's friend Ed, we rigged the block and tackle with the new line and shortly thereafter we were celebrating the marvel of Mechanical Advantage, having lifted the dinghy into the air with ease. I imagined that the people on the deck at Cardero's were watching us approvingly. Pleased with the day, we went below and toasted our accomplishments with a bit of single malt.
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| The dinghy on the foredeck with David's block and tackle attached |
Monday, February 18, 2013
Training and Sailing
It's safe to say that after a frustrating wait, I had my fill of boat time this past week. First, David and I took the day off on Wednesday to sail, reasoning that it would be the only nice day for a while. By the end of that day we had made arrangements to have an instructor from Cooper Boating to spend the day with us on Saturday. We spent the morning in False Creek reviewing anchoring procedures. This brought the boat home even more for me, given that I live on False Creek and watch the boats mill about every day. I have dreamed for years of being out there and looking back up at our condo from the water.
We tied up at Granville Island for breakfast and lunch - another milestone. For most people, part of the attraction of Granville Island is watching all of the boats that tie up there. It was kind of novel to see Ge'Mara tied up at the docks and the tourists taking pictures of her.
In the afternoon we did some more anchoring in English Bay. The weather turned out to be spectacular for February. The skies cleared and 10 degrees C. We spent the balance of the day running through miscellaneous procedures that needed some practice such as reefing the main and heaving to. I called Brenda from the boat and asked her to pick up some steaks for and red wine for dinner. What more can you ask for in a day?
At the beginning of this blog I mentioned a good friend who convinced me to learn to learn to sail with him. It's a little ironic that I turned out to be the one to buy the sailboat in the end. Strangely, after having the boat for a month or so he still hadn't been out so he and I spend Sunday together sailing in light winds and celebrating every time we broke 5 knots. When the wind finally died we were off Pt. Atkinson. Instead of immediately motoring home we hove to and bobbed around for a while, pondering the future to come - me with my boat and he with twins only weeks away from being born. There's something about sitting quietly on the water that is very conducive to reflection.
As I type this Monday morning I can still feel the movement of the water, a testament to how much boat time I had this weekend. Time to re-focus on work and my very patient girlfriend.
We tied up at Granville Island for breakfast and lunch - another milestone. For most people, part of the attraction of Granville Island is watching all of the boats that tie up there. It was kind of novel to see Ge'Mara tied up at the docks and the tourists taking pictures of her.
In the afternoon we did some more anchoring in English Bay. The weather turned out to be spectacular for February. The skies cleared and 10 degrees C. We spent the balance of the day running through miscellaneous procedures that needed some practice such as reefing the main and heaving to. I called Brenda from the boat and asked her to pick up some steaks for and red wine for dinner. What more can you ask for in a day?
At the beginning of this blog I mentioned a good friend who convinced me to learn to learn to sail with him. It's a little ironic that I turned out to be the one to buy the sailboat in the end. Strangely, after having the boat for a month or so he still hadn't been out so he and I spend Sunday together sailing in light winds and celebrating every time we broke 5 knots. When the wind finally died we were off Pt. Atkinson. Instead of immediately motoring home we hove to and bobbed around for a while, pondering the future to come - me with my boat and he with twins only weeks away from being born. There's something about sitting quietly on the water that is very conducive to reflection.
As I type this Monday morning I can still feel the movement of the water, a testament to how much boat time I had this weekend. Time to re-focus on work and my very patient girlfriend.
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