SubnetSurfer — “Not all who wander are lost.”

Well, I woke up on the boat this morning with the best of intentions. I made a coffee and planned to do the wiring I have been putting off for 3 months. I decided that because it was going to rain I would fill the fresh water tank, and went out to top it off. I waited while it filled, and when I heard it gurgle, I knew it was full. I turned off the tap and a second or so later, the bottom of the tank blew open and emptied 30gal. of water into my boat. Stupid aluminum tank :(

I pumped out the bilge, soaked up a bunch of water form in between various bulkheads, and went to town to get a new tank. Work had the same tank I have so off I went, hoping to just drop in a replacement. Turns out the one we have at work is also blown out in the same spot. Manufacturing defect.

The culprit

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There was however a better one and it was Stainless Steel so I grabbed it. In the hole another $125.00 for the effort. The tank fits in and I have made a rudimentary stand for it, and will get it epoxied into place once the area is all dried out.

Given the fact that I need to open my $30.00 tube of thickened epoxy, I also now need to go to the lumber yard and raid the free wood pile to get battens to epoxy to the hull to hold the interior wood finish. This will allow me to get teh most out of that tube, as it sets in like 45 minutes. I will get the batten all measured and cut/placed so they are ready. I figure I can get most of the main cabin done, and maybe even the v-berth. That will be cool. Only question is who is going to do that darned wiring…

I am a person who makes lists. I like lists. Problem is the lists are always in the wrong place, and there are always 2 or 3 copies of them around. I have finally started to consolidate my lists on Tada list which is the cleanest, free online list manager I could find. Having my “things to do on the boat” this way is really a pleasure.

Well, it is a misty and overcast day and I have just arrived at the boat from Vancouver a day later than usual. that means that I get to spend the afternoon on the boat, sleep here tonight, then work tomorrow and go back home. My fault ,I really should have left yesterday as I am really happier here.

I really do love my little boat. It is ever-increasingly becoming my sanctuary and I am thankful for that. I need one right now. I am coming to grips with the fact that the next stage of my life is a sailing one, and it will likely be done mostly alone.

I have also thought a lot lately about the financial predicament purchasing a boat without eliminating my other fixed costs has put me in and need to just make it work now. Having “the life” without “the money” is not possible so I am going to set about making more money than I have in the past. I need a big win and will get it, but need to stay focused now on it, and nothing else.

Well, I have done it. Officially. Sunday August 2nd, 2009 I took the boat out single-handed for a shakedown cruise.

I left the mooring a little after 7am about an hour before low tide. I did that on purpose so I would know how easy/hard it would be to negotiate my marina when the tide was out. All was well ,and before long my little outboard was moving me into the channel. I cleared Roberts bay to starboard and cut the motor.

Having never had the main up I was happy the wind was only about 3-4 knots . I had, the night before, run up the main and reviewed my reefing system “in case” so I was freshly familiar with the sheeting, downhaul, outhaul and overall flow of handling the main. It isn’t large so that too helps :).

Halyard set to winch, tailing to the lower port deck , and we’re off! I set the main and headed aft to unhook the bridle stay (my boom doesn’t have a vang, so there is a 3ft cable hanging from the backstay bridle adjuster which the boom hangs on to stabilize it when not in use or when raising/lowering) I checked the downhaul, set the downhaul traveler and released the boom. This was a fine moment because I was now handing over control to the wind and the wave. A rare moment that I was glad to have experienced alone. ( I won’t ever tell if I had shed a tear just then)

I was on a port tack in a beam reach and traveling about 2-3 knots, and that was plenty for me to examine everything. I really wanted to make this trip about learning how/what the boat can do and what doesn’t work for me. I would count this trip as a success on both fronts.

I left the outboard in the water on purpose, knowing it would impede my performance in the light air, as I wasn’t here to go fast. I jibed a couple times, and also hove to under sail to know what I should experience. I trimmed the main a bit, and set about attaching the tiller pilot.

The tiller pilot is simple and elegant. Plug in, attach to tiller, go for a coffee. Well, not quite but pretty darn close. I was happy to have the electronic hand to keep me pointing south. I can see that I would need to arrange bungy cords and whatnot to keep me pointing if I did not have this little beauty and decided just then that it was a good piece of equipment and care will be given to it.

A note about alarms. They should be used sparingly, and should all be distinct. I have an alarm for “shallow” & an alarm for “deep” water, an alarm on the tiller pilot which means it cannot steer a course, an alarm on the VHF (DSC stuff) and a bunch of alarms on the old GPS. I can tell you I had a couple moments when the sounder beeped like a 1940’s horror movie screech and I jumped. Turns out the shallow and deep alarm are the same tones :( There is little worse than expecting to run aground as you are passing the 100ft deep water mark because the depth sounder starts screeching!

I went slow. Really slow. I resisted the urge to get up and do the next thing, and just sat. Sidney was to starboard about a 1/2 mile or so off in the distance. I was in 100ft of water and at this point, in low tide. It worked out well because when it was time to go in, the tide would be with me, making easy to return. Granted I don’t know how hard it would be returning against the tide, but I figured I was in the right space :)

After about 45 minutes of this relaxing, I decided to come about and tacked, passing the bow through the wind and bringing the boat onto a starboard tack and heading for home I was almost into a broad reach, but not moving much, as the mid morning brought less wind. I had through this period of floating about, been watching a couple of larger sailboats in the distance run with Genoa and main, and finally decided I was too going to have a peek at the genoa that came with my boat.

I learned later after some conversation with my neighbor George and some analysis of my fore-stays, that the inner fore-stay (for which the stay-sail gets hanked onto) has a quick release lever and is attached via a caribiner so that it can be unclipped and moved out of the way so the genoa can pass unhindered across the foredeck during a tack. While on the ocean however, I hadn’t yet discovered the true purpose of that stuff, so I muddled about getting the genoa on and not tangled up in the inner fore stay, and trying to determine how the sheet should run so it could clear this stay. It was a bit of a mess because there is only a foot of space between the inner and outer stay.

This was not going to work. Period. But try as I might, I ran up the genoa and gave it five minutes. I realized that I was going to make a mess trying to tack so I hauled it down and put it away again and stayed on course with just the main for the rest of my journey.

I relaxed on the journey back. More looking, less doing. I have a new list now to go through to make sailing this boat more comfortable. Things I learned on this trip:

1. outboard races at higher RPM’s; Investigate.
2. something leaking in the outboard; more investigating
3. remote throttle for the outboard needs to be mounted as using two hands to adjust isn’t practical
4. side windows in dodger are not usable because I cant see well enough through them
5. downhaul traveler is awkwardly mounted; cars block access to cockpit seat hatches
6. traveler line too short; boom can only be let out to 25^ or so; no running like that
7. boat does sail in light wind :)
8. seating is uncomfortable; get cushions throughout and make cushion for sitting high on cockpit sides
9. shorten tiller pilot power cable; its in the way of the sheets and can tangle
10. install radar reflector; (to whoever was on the radio trying to contact vessel without radar near Sidney, I hope you weren’t talking to me, sorry :( )
11. I can singlehand my boat after all (phew)
12. Get wind speed/direction transducer installed on mast
13. get a sounder installed that will feed instruments in cockpit so I don’t have to go below to see if I am going to run aground
14. get knotmeter working/replaced
15. build/buy a larger bimini; (the sun is really hot)
16. get better lifevest; the over the head ones suck when climbing around on the boat
17. remember to make tea before leaving and store in thermos
18. bring pop and ice
19. practice deploying/retrieving anchor while moored so there are no surprises
20. bring someone along because talking to someone instead of just talking makes you less crazy;

I found overall that I was much less nervous this time out. I still worried about the outboard, but knew I could sail to something that I could tie up to or drop anchor if I really needed to. I also didn’t worry about fuel this time out which was nice.

I did experience the scourge that is the over-sized motor-yacht making a wake that could swamp a monster truck (you bastard!, you know who you are) but that was anger, not fear. I happened to be standing at the mast bringing in the main when the big yacht overtook me (passing to port no less) doing 15 knots if not more and as such I hugged the mast for a moment while I see-sawed from his wake.

Flying my colors

My shakedown cruise was a success and I am really proud of my boat, and proud of all the sacrifice I (and others) have made to get it and get it to the point that I could take it out and sail it.

Most of all I am proud that I haven’t forgotten how to dream because without the dream one really doesn’t have much reason to get up in the morning…

I am probably best described as an accident waiting to happen by others, yet those who know me would likely dispute that title (jeez, I hope they would anyway…).

I woke up at 30 years of age, heading into a full-time programming job, and said to my wife “What the hell am I getting up every day for again?”.

Well, we both realized that we hadn’t any answer to that question, and after 2 weeks of deliberations the decision was made to drop everything at 35, get on a boat, and go somewhere that we would never have to wear socks again.

That was 4.5 years ago. This spring, in the midst of a recession, I emptied the bank account by way of a boat I saw one morning that had no mast, some rigging (apparently all of it), buckets to catch the water in the cabin, a motor sitting in a garage somewhere in pails and a set of sails, (unknown quantity). Now is probably a good time to review the 1st paragraph of this post again”…best described as an accident waiting to happen…” :-)

Really though, I finally felt it. After 4 years of these sailing forums, Craigslist, various used boat sites, magazines and uncountable bottles of whiskey, I felt it.

True to form, those around me offered their support and congratulations, the advisers I kept close at hand also gave their stamp of approval: “Well, it floats”; “Are most of the pieces even there?”; “Are you sure you want to buy that?”; “It might work”; (I didn’t hear any “it’s sinking!” or “this is the sailors equivalent of a 4/19 scam” so I took it as a good sign.)

I paid for my first boat in cash, in full, a week after I saw it. The previous owner was kind enough to deliver the pile of standing rigging he had, all the interior pieces, the motor (in pails in the back of his pickup truck), the mast (the bent one rotting for 2 years on the rack at the rigging company), a 150% genoa, a mainsail, a spinnaker, and transferred the moorage to me with the first month paid for. (a few weeks later, he even pitched up with a jib which he forgot existed but the sail loft hadn’t).

So there I was, living in the big city with a sort-of boat 5 hours away in a marina on an island, and a motor in my father-in-laws garage. Ahhhh, life was good then.

I spent the first month or two traveling back and forth to the island every Friday to work on my new beloved, and soon found that that was going to wreck me, so I changed to a 4-day week as a programmer , and took on a Saturday job down the road from my marina at a local boat store. I still work there today, and could not have done half of what I have done without the employee discounts

Funny how one buys a boat to spend Saturdays on, then gets a Saturday job to support the boat one bought to spend Saturdays on…

Anyways, I faithfully left home Thursday afternoons, worked on the boat Thursday night, then the motor on Fridays, went to the boat store on Saturdays, and Sundays, beaten, broke and tired, headed for home again.

I have been doing this now for 4 months, and the results? Well, I am proud enough of them.

• I rigged my mast, ran new halyards internally (1st gen cal 29’s had all cable/rope splices & were external and I had no running rigging for the boat)
• Learned what the hell a halyard is…
• Stepped the mast with help from a un-named rigger (who thinks only MRT riggers should have rigging knowledge. Like, really! Does he think I don’t know what a halyard is?)
• Rebuilt the entire freshwater system + repaired the rather weathered manual water- pumps
• repaired/installed the entire electrical system from the 12v lights to electronics. (only thing that was fine was the shore power)
• 80% refinished the interior of the boat.
• installed new propane stove/ oven.
• Installed a boom, ran up the sails, and learned all about reefing systems (I have settled on a jiffy reefing system)
• Built the engine-from-buckets that came with my boat. It’s a Volvo Penta MB10-A (ugh. gas engine, i know, i know, don’t even say it)

3 weeks ago, I started my engine for the first time, on sawhorses in my father-in-laws garage. 2 weeks ago I lowered the inboard into the engine room on the boat by myself with a jury-rigged boom-crane setup with the down-haul for the heavy lifting 1 week ago I got an outboard and hung it out back on the really wobbly kicker bracket. 2 days ago, with my wife making her first major appearance on the vessel, I secured the inboard on the new engine bed I’d built with some big old screws and some 2x4’s so it couldn’t slip & slide and we set out for the maiden voyage of s/v Scotch Mist with the sails on deck, and the outboard purring.

That last part isn’t totally true.

Well, what I meant to say was after announcing proudly that we were going sailing on Sunday morning, I lowered the kicker and promptly ripped all the ignition wiring apart( Isn’t that a sign?), and spent the first 45 minutes of my maiden voyage at the dock rewiring the outboards electric start. Go ahead, ask me if I accounted for the length the motor has to drop on the bracket to reach the water >:-(

Take two.

1.87 days ago, we set off on our maiden voyage in s/v Scotch Mist, and after me single-handing out of my berth and into the harbor, (and avoiding the near-fatal heart attack I probably should have had) we were on our way.

We traveled along for a solid 5 minutes rounding the marina and headed out the channel destined for open waters. At this point I decided that I should really be more worried as my visible shaking wasn’t settling me down the way it looked like it should so I started to check the fuel can.

Every 10 seconds.

I swear that 2 bucks worth of fuel in that can seemed as though it would last a really long time when I was at the dock.

I didn’t have enough fuel to light a cigarette so I decided that to be on the safe side I would stop at the last gas bar on the way out of the channel.

We puttered past 2 gas bars which had closed signs on the door and lo and behold I was in the outflow now so I decided that the strain on the motor would lessen, and I would have enough fuel to reach the gas bar, I stopped worrying.

10 seconds after I stopped worrying, I saw the gas bar in all its glory…. and I also saw the 6 boats already tied up to it, and the 2 boats waiting to get in.

It was in that split second I wished the head had a holding tank so I didn’t have to bare my shame in the channel.

“Honey, I think I am going to go back to the last gas bar, and get some more fuel there because this one looks a little busy.” I said, as I hove to, and revved the little Evinrude up hoping to gain a knot or 2 before it ran out of gas.

I made it to the gas bar, and even though the sign on the door said closed, I was secretly jumping up and down because I wasn’t the fool bobbing around in the middle of the harbor having run out of gas.

My wife found the intercom, and a kid came bounding down the dock a minute later (it turns out that the open/closed sign probably hasn’t ever been used) and gave us 10 bucks worth of fuel. I told my wife that we should go back now after our “Shakedown cruise” and get ready for the trip back to the mainland, and I would resolve all the new issues I found next weekend.

It turns out that I can single-hand my cal 29 into my mooring like a seasoned pro and that is the part my loving wife expounds upon when she recounts last weekends experience, bless her soul…