tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30033461624508475182024-03-13T10:20:16.146-07:00The Log of HagothThis blog is about a three-year total refit of Oceanus, our 1971 Columbia 43, turning this classic Bill Tripp racer into a comfortable and fast cruising boat. We left Newport, Ore., in February 2016 and sailed to Southern California and Mexico. We are now in Hawaii and plan to cruise these beautiful islands before returning to the Northwest.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger104125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-37826697648753921262021-01-27T10:47:00.006-08:002021-10-14T17:05:57.142-07:00 Columbia 43: Hot racing yacht now a comfortable, fast cruiser<div class="separator"><i>Below is a story that I wrote for Good Old Boat Magazine. While it didn't make it into the Magazine, the editor invited me to write a boat review for a Columbia 43. It could not be my own boat so I chose to write about my friend Craig Shaw's beautiful Adios in Portland, Ore. It appeared in the <a href="https://goodoldboat.com/shop/back-issues/2019/2019-126-may-june-2019/" target="_blank">May/June 2019 Good Old Boat issue</a>. Since then I have reviewed two more boats for the magazine.</i></div><span id="docs-internal-guid-c86349ae-7fff-580e-845e-c957f38a546a"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eOsZvto9g1M/YBGrkPCAZKI/AAAAAAAAFeY/l4-NkQd8714n7yQrR8cl1GAhjS7S08g2QCLcBGAsYHQ/s635/Encore-spin.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="622" data-original-width="635" height="626" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eOsZvto9g1M/YBGrkPCAZKI/AAAAAAAAFeY/l4-NkQd8714n7yQrR8cl1GAhjS7S08g2QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h626/Encore-spin.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Encore</i> races to the finish line during the 1971 Transpac race where she won first in Class C</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br />By Brandon Ford</span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At the height of his career, a new race boat design from the board of William Tripp Jr. was big news in the yachting world. The Columbia 43 is a case in point. Before the first hull was even built in 1969, Columbia had 21 orders in hand for the flush-decked sloop. By the time the first boat was launched, 60 racing skippers put money down for one.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The 43 did not disappoint. It was an immediate racing success winning several major ocean races in the first few years. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Encore</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> was first in class and 11th in fleet when she sailed in the 1971 Transpac from San Pedro, Calif., to Honolulu. Another 43, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Blue Norther</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, was the overall winner in the Ocean Racing Class of the Newport to Ensenada Yacht Race. With 539 entries, it was the world's largest ocean race at the time.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One magazine ad touted the big sloop as the "Magnificent Aggressor" in the headline. "This is undoubtedly one of the most aggressively designed ocean racers ever created by the famed naval architect, Bill Tripp.... Classified as light-displacement, the Columbia 43 exhibits the highest sail-area-to-wetted-surface ratio of any of his designs."</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At about 23,000 pounds all up, she would be considered a medium displacement sailboat by modern standards, but during the waning years of the Cruising Club of America (CCA) rating rule she could be considered light. By comparison, a Columbia 50, an earlier Tripp design with nearly the same waterline length and beam, weighs more than half again as much.</span></p><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hfdldtdEJy8/YBGya2dqFfI/AAAAAAAAFfg/Mu3EgZNWkeMwUy_ASICBPwPrScAqRXWqACLcBGAsYHQ/s800/Dick%2526Bill.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="614" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hfdldtdEJy8/YBGya2dqFfI/AAAAAAAAFfg/Mu3EgZNWkeMwUy_ASICBPwPrScAqRXWqACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Dick%2526Bill.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Columbia Yachts president Dick Valdez<br /> discusses a design with Bill Tripp, JR.</td></tr></tbody></table><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Columbia 43s were competitive even after the racing community adopted the International Offshore Rule (IOR) in 1971, replacing the CCA rule the boat was originally designed to compete under. In 1973 Columbia intr</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">oduced the Mark III, which added six feet to the mast, six inches to the bow and shortened the boom by a foot to give the boat a higher-aspect ratio rig favored by the IOR. The Mark III also had a redesigned keel moving the ballast lower and reducing wetted surface even more.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Columbia ended production of the 43 in 1974 after producing 152 of the boats. They remain popular because of their fine sailing qualities, strong build, and spacious accommodations.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A Columbia 43 graced the cover of the July 1978 issue of </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Motor Boating & Sailing</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> magazine. In 2013, a Columbia 43, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Stumppy J</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, raced in the Transpac finishing sixth in its class. (The famous Sparkman & Stevens 53-foot yawl </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dorade</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> took first in the same class).</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The 43's versatile accommodations plan is well laid out for racing, cruising or entertaining. It has a large, efficient galley to port has double sinks near the centerline of the boat and two large ice boxes. The galley is convenient to the cockpit as is the a large U-shaped dinette to starboard. A former owner of a 43 affectionately called the dinette "our Denney's booth." It can easily accommodate six adults.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A step down takes you forward of the small, gun-turret house and under the large flush deck to the main salon. The facing settees convert into four excellent sea berths. Forward of that is a spacious head to starboard with a large, standing chart table and nav station to port. The V-berth in the forward owner's cabin is large enough that one owner put in a queen-size foam mattress with very little trimming. There are two large hanging lockers, one to port the other to starboard.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The arrangement is roomy and open with lots of headroom (6'4" throughout most the cabin) and it puts four good sea berths in the middle of the boat. The stand-up chart table across from the head has plenty of room for charts and electronics.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The standard boat carried 48 gallons of fuel and 50 gallons of water, but many boats were ordered with the option to double that capacity.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of the most outstanding features of the boat is its 10-foot long cockpit. It's big, but not too big. Comfortable, dry and secure, it is easy to grind the winches when racing, or snuggle in for a night watch. At anchor, the cockpit can easily accommodate eight people if they are friendly. "This is the greatest cockpit of any boat I've ever been on," said a former owner who lived aboard his boat for 13 years while working in the marine wholesale business.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Columbia built about a third of the 152 Columbia 43s at its yard in Portsmouth, Va., and the rest in the Costa Mesa, Calif., yard. The longevity of the hand-laid, pre-oil-crisis fiberglass construction means most are still sailing.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At least one Columbia 43 has circumnavigated the globe and another is most the way round.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cYd8P0zkdiA/UTTKWohwY6I/AAAAAAAABIE/PBdm8Vbh7GAtzjDK7JXIXziHoyXO_uUMQCPcBGAYYCw/s468/columbia_43_photo.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="468" data-original-width="468" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cYd8P0zkdiA/UTTKWohwY6I/AAAAAAAABIE/PBdm8Vbh7GAtzjDK7JXIXziHoyXO_uUMQCPcBGAYYCw/w640-h640/columbia_43_photo.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Blue Norther</i> a race-winning 43 became a TV star on ABC in her 40s</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br />Blue Norther</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, the race-winning boat featured in early Columbia magazine ads, became a television star in her 40s. She was the boat </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Amanda</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> in the TV series </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Revenge</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. She appeared in several episodes in the 2012-2013 second season of the ABC television series. There are some nice scenes of her sailing and even some interior shots. In the climactic second-season finale, much of the action takes place on the boat. There is a murder aboard, an explosion, and the boat sinks. The sinking wasn't for real, she still sails on most Saturdays from her slip in Marina del Rey, Calif.</span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Adios</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, a 1969 Columbia 43, sails out of Tomahawk Island in Portland, Ore. She has been part of the Shaw family for more than 30 years and is now the home of Craig Shaw. Shaw raced with his father and then as the owner in scores of offshore and local races, including the Pacific Cup races from San Francisco to Hawaii. Dozens of racng awards cover one bulkhead in the boat.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Adios</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> is also a regular in the Baha Haha, a cruising rally that sails from San Diego to the Sea of Cortez every year at the end of October. Photos of </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Adios</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and Shaw grace several covers of </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Latitude 38,</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> the magazine that sponsors the rally. Shaw, who works as a professional yacht rigger, recalls one sail bringing </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Adios</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> back from 1988 Pacific Cup race. As he headed back home to Oregon, the boat was surfing at speeds up to 15.5 knots under a small headsail only.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To read more about Adios see the May/June 2019 issue of Good Old Boat magazine.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j11txSzXxro/UynObGDj_eI/AAAAAAAABsw/vQ6Wys5oV68mAn79BlztR1X4kJ0BYN-0gCPcBGAYYCw/s500/Tranquilo_family.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="500" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j11txSzXxro/UynObGDj_eI/AAAAAAAABsw/vQ6Wys5oV68mAn79BlztR1X4kJ0BYN-0gCPcBGAYYCw/w640-h480/Tranquilo_family.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tranquilo</i> under sail in Aruba.<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tranquilo</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, a red 43 in Aruba, takes as many as 22 passengers out for day sails; a job it's done almost every day since 1977, first under Mike Hagedoorn and then under his son Anthony. The large flush deck and 10-foot cockpit comfortably handles the passengers on a four-hour snorkel and lunch cruise.</span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In addition to the Mark I and the Mark III, Columbia also built a Mark II 43 with a centerboard. Even though it was the largest sailing yacht builder of the time with a 35 to 40 percent share of the sailboat auxiliary market, Columbia would customize boats to meet their customer's needs.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-671G3j3y39U/YBGw4si42OI/AAAAAAAAFfM/GqhgRUIloTQsn5fTFizbgXkkX8TLoyvSACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/DSCN0292.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-671G3j3y39U/YBGw4si42OI/AAAAAAAAFfM/GqhgRUIloTQsn5fTFizbgXkkX8TLoyvSACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h300/DSCN0292.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gerry Waterson's Columbia 43 <i>Destiny</i> sailed extensively in the Atlantic and Caribbean<br /> </td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gerry Waterson saw a brand new Columbia 43 at a boat show and thought it would be perfect for his cruising plans -- except for the deep draft. He didn't want the bother of a centerboard, so Waterson drew up a shallow keel with a streamlined bulb on the end. It reduced the draft from 6 feet, 11 inches to 5 feet. Columbia built a boat with the custom keel for him.</span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Destiny</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> was Waterson's home for more than a decade. He cruised her to Maine, Nova Scotia, England, the Jersey Isles, Canary Islands, Azores, Windward and Leeward Islands, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, Virgin Islands, Bahamas, Turks and Caicos, Bermuda, Florida and the Chesapeake Bay. After all those miles he has nothing but praise for the sea-keeping abilities of the Columbia 43.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After sailing our boat, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Oceanus</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, more than 10,000 miles, that was my experience as well. She is well mannered on every point of sail with a comfortable motion that doesn’t wear out the crew. Best of all, she is a fast passage maker. Without pushing hard, we can easily make 160-mile plus days in all but the lightest conditions. Crossing from Mexico to Hawaii with just two crew took 21 days to cover 2,750 miles. That included three days of loafing along under a poled-out genoa, a light reaching staysail and no main in very light winds.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Columbia 43s love the open ocean. Like other owners, we experienced speeds in the low-teens while surfing on reaches and runs. Far from white knuckling it, the boat practically sails herself and always feels under control. On one memorable run from Drake’s Bay, passed San Francisco to Halfmoon Bay, Calif., we averaged 10 knots for more than an hour while surfing on 16-foot waves. The same day saw 22-foot breaking seas across the entire entrance to San Francisco Bay and the Titans of Mavericks big-wave surf competition. Far from “white knuckling it,” everyone aboard Oceanus, except the helmsman, spent the time napping in the mid-winter sunshine.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NTkICK9raaM/YBGxy9LHkDI/AAAAAAAAFfY/Ufa7DC644CIbFEoiWsi_E6ff3EPenPTgQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1024/carey02.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="593" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NTkICK9raaM/YBGxy9LHkDI/AAAAAAAAFfY/Ufa7DC644CIbFEoiWsi_E6ff3EPenPTgQCLcBGAsYHQ/w370-h640/carey02.jpg" width="370" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Serendipity</i> was home to Tom and Karen Gray for 25 years</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Like Waterson, the Hagedoorns and the Shaws, many Columbia owners keep their boats for decades even passing them down to their children. Tom and Karen Gray lived aboard their Columbia 43, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Serendipity</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, for 25 years. Their daughter, Samantha, was born after they began living aboard, under, what Karen calls, the "make-your-own-crew plan." Sam grew up cruising the Caribbean and Florida with her parents. After Tom died and Samantha left for college, Karen put their beloved boat up for sale.</span></span><div><span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The new owner, Leigh Weber, is an experienced sailor. He plans an extensive refit before taking his family cruising in </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Serendipity</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. So, another Columbia 43 passes to a new generation. The aggressive racing boat is proving to be a magnificent cruising boat as it passes the half-century mark.</span></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LtPXwgZSpEA/YBGto7VcPFI/AAAAAAAAFe0/xEmrC8hRnaoGEa-k90Q_4pJ2DOUGWW-IwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1076/43SailPlan-MkIII.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1076" data-original-width="826" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LtPXwgZSpEA/YBGto7VcPFI/AAAAAAAAFe0/xEmrC8hRnaoGEa-k90Q_4pJ2DOUGWW-IwCLcBGAsYHQ/w492-h640/43SailPlan-MkIII.jpg" width="492" /></a></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-31927795668362478342020-11-03T17:56:00.008-08:002020-11-09T18:55:12.238-08:00Voyaging through life<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i></i></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WUky4knie6Y/X6IH6ktCL5I/AAAAAAAAE7c/8ciFnnWiwLU3HAW6MRlhM4ZSR38Ip13VwCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_0679.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Oceanus in her new home: Olympia, Wash." border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WUky4knie6Y/X6IH6ktCL5I/AAAAAAAAE7c/8ciFnnWiwLU3HAW6MRlhM4ZSR38Ip13VwCPcBGAsYHg/w480-h640/IMG_0679.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oceanus moored in her new home, Olympia, Washington.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i></i></div><i><br />By Brandon Ford </i><p></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-f791054c-7fff-839d-1b80-aa7649c85c8f"><h4 style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)<br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s always our self we find in the sea<br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> -- ee cummings</span></h4><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There is no better metaphor for this journey through life than a sea voyage. It is always a call to adventure. It requires preparation for both the vessel and her crew. It requires a destination. But most of all it requires the courage of the crew to leave safe harbor and strength to see the voyage through to the end.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I first started dreaming about making a sea voyage myself at the age of 13. I read an article in </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">National Geographic</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> about a boy, Robin Lee Graham, who set out to sail around the world alone at age 16 -- only three years older than me! The story and the idea completely captivated me. I wanted to see what he saw, experience what he experienced and accomplish something big.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Instead of 16, I was 61 when I set out on my sea voyage. It wasn’t around the world and I wasn’t alone, thank goodness. My voyage took my wife and me from Newport, Ore., to California, the wild west coast of Mexico’s Baja peninsula, into the Sea of Cortez, then to Hawaii where, for 13 months, we cruised seven of the eight main islands. It took us 24 days to sail from Ni'ihau to Port Angeles. In addition to my wife and I, we had our 14 year old grandson who flew to Oahu to join us for his first voyage. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H0G_wU0XUI0/X6IOPnEAdAI/AAAAAAAAE7o/uREybLCbkG8jxPxyKzPtxlYnFIdmVWinACPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_0602.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="404" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H0G_wU0XUI0/X6IOPnEAdAI/AAAAAAAAE7o/uREybLCbkG8jxPxyKzPtxlYnFIdmVWinACPcBGAsYHg/w303-h404/IMG_0602.JPG" width="303" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elijah on watch in the mid-Pacific.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was not a circumnavigation of the world that I first dreamed of, and it took a little less than two years, instead of the five years it took Graham, but I will always remember and be grateful for the experience.</span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">During our three years of rebuilding and outfitting our 1971 Columbia 43 prior to setting out, we met many would-be voyagers making their own preparations to cut the dock lines. Some spent years working on their boats, most for much longer than us. When we left all but one couple were still dithering on with a list of projects that kept them from leaving.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One old salt liveaboard, who circumnavigated the Pacific three decades and two wives earlier, paid us little attention at first. But as we walked past his boat nearly every day carrying tools, resin, wood parts and cartloads of equipment for months, he slowly opened up to us. He started offering good advice and encouragement. He even got his shy Samoan wife to help us weave true-lover-knot mats for our companionway steps. He saw that we might be different from the dreamers he was used to seeing. When we left on a sunny morning in early February he was on the dock waving goodbye.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When Robin Lee Graham returned from his voyage around the world he said, “At sea, I learned how little a person needs, not how much.” In addition to that, we learned how self reliant we could be and how much we have to be grateful for.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">(copyright Brandon Ford)</span></span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-12054769041042538522017-06-20T09:52:00.000-07:002017-06-20T10:32:28.847-07:00Aloha Hawai'i<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7XO2_nLZuQQ/WUlb9n1retI/AAAAAAAACvA/mARaF2rv_1Yb-_PHFMBGB3trd29rSsCawCLcBGAs/s1600/HanaleiSunset.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7XO2_nLZuQQ/WUlb9n1retI/AAAAAAAACvA/mARaF2rv_1Yb-_PHFMBGB3trd29rSsCawCLcBGAs/s640/HanaleiSunset.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last night's sunset over Hanalei Bay, Kauai.</td></tr>
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Today we leave Kauai. We enjoyed our year on the Hawaiian islands. A fond aloha to all the good friends we made here.<br />
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We are hoping for a fast, uneventful passage to Olympia, Wash., Oceanus' new home port.<br />
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Follow our progress on the link to the right.<br />
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See you on the other side of the ocean,<br />
Brandon and VirginiaUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-89856274344356404502017-06-03T21:02:00.000-07:002017-06-03T21:25:30.456-07:00Cast iron keels and keel bolts<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wOzjAmthcbc/VC9L68aAmdI/AAAAAAAAB64/bJKucyyiEIwGqItFQyTW49TpSCb_jyh1wCPcB/s1600/P9192902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wOzjAmthcbc/VC9L68aAmdI/AAAAAAAAB64/bJKucyyiEIwGqItFQyTW49TpSCb_jyh1wCPcB/s640/P9192902.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before..</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zBPSrGZKyp4/VC9L4IQK2QI/AAAAAAAAB6w/J4Pu-Ahv_QU67zz6V7nTc3KyenzBYwWVACPcB/s1600/PA012914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zBPSrGZKyp4/VC9L4IQK2QI/AAAAAAAAB6w/J4Pu-Ahv_QU67zz6V7nTc3KyenzBYwWVACPcB/s640/PA012914.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...after sand blasting, epoxy filling and sanding, then three coats of epoxy primer the cast-iron keel of our Columbia 43 is ready for bottom paint. It has a complex and beautiful shape that you could only achieve with a strong, durable materal like iron.</td></tr>
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I get a lot of questions about keel bolts. Almost every potential owner and owner of a Columbia 43 worries about them.<br />
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I only really know about my boat, a Columbia 43 Mark I, but I think it is like most of Tripp-designed boats Columbia built. They had cast-iron keels attached with galvanized keel bolts. The keel was set in a socket in the fiberglass hull with an industrial adhesive called Furane Epibond, which is still made today.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_TPb5Vnr9C4/VFEbrChdzyI/AAAAAAAAB9s/fjk6P_h557IUsb-_ohiXQUHS_fE6Dx2BwCPcB/s1600/scan0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1164" data-original-width="1600" height="464" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_TPb5Vnr9C4/VFEbrChdzyI/AAAAAAAAB9s/fjk6P_h557IUsb-_ohiXQUHS_fE6Dx2BwCPcB/s640/scan0004.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The keel installation page from the Columbia 43 plan set. Note the beautiful drafting, which was all done by hand. Tripp was a consummate artist.</td></tr>
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Here's an interesting paragraph from a <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=HSu3dUu9s2sC&lpg=RA2-PA76&ots=MDlhvdaUOk&dq=hull%20deck%20joint%20columbia%2043&pg=RA2-PA42#v=onepage&q=hull%20deck%20joint%20columbia%2043&f=true" target="_blank">1971 article in Boating Magazine </a>describing in detail how the keel on a Columbia 43 is attached:<br />
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"With a 10,250-pound cast iron fin keel hanging on the bottom of the boat, we were interested in the method used to secure same. We found that the keel flange is flushed into a recess or pocket in the hull. Prior to attachment, the keel is given a dry run to check for accurate fit in the recess. If all is not well, the flange is ground to suit--the pocket is never ground except to remove gel coat. When the fit is satisfactory, the recess is coated with a thick application of Furane Epibond, and epoxy compound. With the entire weight of the boat resting on the keel, ten 3/4" diameter cotton-wrapped bolts, nuts, flat washers and lock washers are installed. Internally the keel weight is distributed by a heavy, glassed-in platform and a series of steel transverse channels that pickup the keel bolts. We were convinced that the keel is there to stay."<br />
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The article didn't specify that the bolts were galvanized steel, but the plan sheet for attaching the keel does. That's what is on my boat too.<br />
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Galvanized bolts were exactly the right thing to use. They start out being 18 percent stronger than the same sized stainless bolt. From there the stainless bolt has nowhere to go but down. I would not trust any stainless bolt more than 10 years old. They can look perfect and yet fail catastrophically with no warning.</div>
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Galvanized bolts, on the other hand, retain their strength even when they are rusty. So a 50-year-old galvanized bolt that is 18 percent rusted away is about the same strength as a brand new stainless steel bolt. I won't even get into <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crevice_corrosion" target="_blank">crevice corrosion</a> in stainless steel. Let's just say a damp bilge provides the perfect environment for crevice corrosion.<br />
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If someone, I'm thinking a boat buyer here, looks in a bilge and sees some rusty keel bolts they totally freak out! I've had more than one person tell me that they once considered buying a Columbia 43, but didn't because of the condition of the keel bolts. I also had a C-43 owner bemoan the fact that she almost had her boat sold until the potential buyer looked in the bilge and saw the keel bolts. I told her to get a wire cup for her drill and go to work on them to get the loose rust off them, wipe them down with acetone, prime with a rust converter and then spray paint them white. I hope that was good advice. (While you're at it GET RID of all the old useless wires, pumps and junk in the bilge.)<br />
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The keel bolts on the Columbia 43 Mark I were studs and can be backed out (theoretically). I wouldn't do it. I might sister them, but I would not do that either unless the bolts -- all or most of them -- had all but disappeared. I can think of all kinds of things that could go wrong. You could get the new bolts torqued wrong and start a leak, for example. (More about this later.)<br />
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The thing is, there are no cases where a Columbia 43 has lost her keel. If there were, we would hear about it. (Think <a href="https://www.morganscloud.com/2016/10/13/cheeki-rafiki-loss-update/" target="_blank">Cheeki Rafiki</a>.) Also, Columbia tested the adhesive system they used on these keels using it alone without any keel bolts. It worked fine, or so the story goes. I don't know if they went back and added keel bolts later or not. Let's just say I trust my 46-year-old keel attachment more than I would most new boats.<br />
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Now for the <a href="http://hagothlog.blogspot.com/2016/10/differences-between-columbia-43-marks.html" target="_blank">Columbia 43 Mark III</a>: The Mark III was a later development of the original Mark I. One of the biggest changes Columbia made was a smaller keel (same depth, 6'11", but a much shorter chord) to reduce wetted surface. I haven't seen a Mark III out of the water nor have I seen the design drawings. From what I can gather the keel had external lead ballast on a fiberglass keel stub. I don't know what kind of bolts they used. I also don't know who did the redesign, since <a href="http://hagothlog.blogspot.com/p/by-brandon-ford-in-last-two-decades-of.html" target="_blank">Bill Tripp </a>(the Columbia 43's designer) was dead before Columbia came out with the Mark III.<br />
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One of my friends who has a Mark III in the Sea of Cortez had problems with his where it developed a smile (in boatyard parlance, it's called a "Catalina smile"). It looked like the keel was starting to become detached. He had a yard in Mexico fix it -- I don't know the details -- but so far he's happy with it.<br />
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<i>Stumpy J</i>, the Columbia 43 Mark III that competed in the 2013 Transpac and finished 6th in Division 8, the same division that Dorade won that year, also had problems with her keel. When the owner was getting her ready for the race someone recommended that he re-tighten the keel bolts. He did that and it caused leaks that plagued the boat throughout the race and afterward.<br />
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That's about all I know about Columbia 43 keels. I believe a lot of the Tripp-designed Columbia's had cast iron keels similar to the 43 Mark I. One notable exception is the Columbia 50, which has lead encapsulated in the fiberglass hull. (This, to me, is the most trouble-free method. I hesitate to say "best" because other things come into play.)<br />
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I generally think Columbia 43 boat owners worry a lot about keel bolts because they look bad, not because there is any real danger of losing a keel. Should I be worried? Comment below. You'll have to cite actual examples of keel failures if you want me to pay attention.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-86540005893472849452017-05-12T13:58:00.000-07:002017-05-12T17:52:00.787-07:00New luxury aboard Oceanus: A real mattress <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sfMoulDn5T4/WRYfct9aFuI/AAAAAAAACro/-aFrBmGChhUJf5z77j4uCBjYD9LW8pmEACLcB/s1600/P1014914.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sfMoulDn5T4/WRYfct9aFuI/AAAAAAAACro/-aFrBmGChhUJf5z77j4uCBjYD9LW8pmEACLcB/s640/P1014914.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
We talked about this since Mexico; that's a year. Finally, on our most recent trip to Costco, the $100 off tipped the scale. We bought a real queen-size mattress.<br />
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It is made of three layers of foam and has a quilted top. We thought we could successfully trim it to fit our berth on the boat. That required the additional purchase of an electric carving knife. (The poor man's tool for cutting foam.)<br />
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Getting it back to the boat was the first hurdle. Inside the big box, the mattress was vacuum packed and rolled up like a big white marshmallow. It fit in the bow of the dinghy, but just barely. Fortunately, we had a calm evening to row back to the boat. Once there, Virginia lowered the spinnaker halyard, I snapped it around the marshmallow and she used a winch to hoist it on deck. Easy.<br />
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In the morning, we opened up the plastic to let the mattress expand on deck. We also need to let it air out for the recommended 24 hours. It was tempting to sleep on deck, I'm a little sorry I didn't.<br />
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The next morning we cut open the cover on the hull-side and hacked off about $60 of foam using our new electric carving knife. Our old memory foam topper served as a pattern. Perfect fit the first time.<br />
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Getting it through our Columbia 43's large companionway was not a problem. Likewise, sliding it on its end to our berth was easy too. Heaving it onto the berth was a chore, but not bad. The whole process took about an hour with more laughing than swearing.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">W cut open one side of the cover. It took two passes to get through all 11 inches of foam.</td></tr>
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The mattress is 11 inches thick -- three inches more than our previous assemblage of various pieces of foam. It makes it pretty high, but we still have plenty of room above our heads thanks to the boat's flush deck.<br />
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With our old foam assemblage (you really couldn't call it a mattress) the queen-sized sheets never fit well. Now they fit like a glove. The bed is made. Time for a nap.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-38439494310316890052017-04-07T13:29:00.000-07:002017-04-07T13:39:55.831-07:00Farewell to our whale friends<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pfyLv0wSNdI/WOfqLIb0kxI/AAAAAAAACqc/n3BGdVZ1LYgkRFvviV9cNaDYGG6q8SgqACLcB/s1600/humpback_nefsc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pfyLv0wSNdI/WOfqLIb0kxI/AAAAAAAACqc/n3BGdVZ1LYgkRFvviV9cNaDYGG6q8SgqACLcB/s640/humpback_nefsc.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A humpback whale breaching. (NOAA photo)</td></tr>
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At the end of March, 2009, we went on a boat dive to Molokini. One of the divers complained on the way back that he hadn't seen any whales. The boat captain said the whales already left. To this the man exclaimed angrily: "The chamber of commerce said they are here until April first!" I guess the whales just didn't look at their calendar that year.<br />
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We enjoyed our whale watching season this year. Every December an estimated that 60 percent of the North Pacific humpback whale population migrates to Hawaii's waters. In spite of numerous studies, no one knows how the marine giants manage to cross open ocean from Alaska to Hawaii never veering off course by more than one degree.<br />
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The waters around Maui, Lanai and Molokai provide the perfect protected waters the whales need for their great social gathering. The channel between Maui and Lanai turns into one big nursery when the pregnant humpbacks give birth to their 2,000 pound calves. The newborns measure about 12 to 15 feet. A Humpback mother and newborn calf will stay close to shore while nursing. The calf will consume about 100 gallons of his mother's fat-rich milk a day.<br />
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The adult whales, including mothers, don't eat while they are here. The water is relatively nutrient free and too warm to support enough of the humpback's food to sustain them, so they live off their blubber.<br />
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The calf can double in length during his first year and learns whale behaviors from its mother. We would often see the mother whale breach followed by a clumsy attempt from the baby whale. We also noticed the mother and baby were often accompanied by a "teenaged" whale that seemed to be acting as an escort or bodyguard.<br />
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Male humpbacks hang around and sing. Their songs are complex and can last up to 20 minutes and can be heard up to 20 miles away. Since December, with our heads underwater, we could hear the songs and sounds of whales. No one knows exactly why, but recent studies show that male songs actually attract other males, rather than females. The male whales face the singer during the song. These encounters are usually brief and friendly. Maybe they just want to brag about their new calves.<br />
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Songs are just one of the ways whales communicate. Humpbacks emit other sounds referred to as social sounds. In addition, they use breaching, tail slapping, and fin slapping to attract attention, which works on whales and humans alike.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breaching seems like an act of pure joy. (NOAA photo)</td></tr>
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Last weekend, on April first, we saw a whale breach. It was beautiful and poignant because we knew it would most likely be the last one of the season.<br />
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But with the whales gone, another friend has returned. We don't know why, but while the whales were here, we spotted fewer dolphins. Maybe they can't put up with the whale's singing. Until next December, the dolphins will delight us and keep everyone company.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-32869089328744746992017-02-22T10:14:00.000-08:002017-02-22T11:44:58.079-08:00Creating paradise: A poet's palm forest<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JsjanwOe8wA/WK3BfHKrFNI/AAAAAAAACpg/jVbJ9BO0-n0FfaoTg-tOGFVeR5uQci98gCLcB/s1600/PC144486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JsjanwOe8wA/WK3BfHKrFNI/AAAAAAAACpg/jVbJ9BO0-n0FfaoTg-tOGFVeR5uQci98gCLcB/s640/PC144486.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A glimpse of blue sky through the dense palm forest created by poet W.S. Merwin.</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/blog/2010/07/ws_merwin_--_the_new_poet_laur.html" target="_blank">W.S. Merwin</a>'s trees are an expression of hope and an attempt to heal the divide he sees between man and nature.<br />
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Merwin won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1971 and in 2009 and was chosen twice as U.S. poet laureate (1999-2000 and 2010-2011). He authored more than 50 books of poetry, translation and prose. You would think that would be his enduring legacy, but there's more.<br />
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A recurring theme in Merwin's writing is man’s separation from nature. He sees the consequences of that alienation as disastrous, both for humans and the world. By planting a tree a day for decades he reclaimed a piece of paradise that will last generations.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the tour group at the palm forest.</td></tr>
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When Merwin moved to Hawaii to study Zen Buddhism in 1976 he bought 19 acres of a failed pineapple plantation. Most of the soil was eroded away. He found about the only thing he could grow on it was Hawaii's native coconut palms.<br />
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He worked rebuilding the soil and planting different palm tree species from around the world. Most days he and his wife planted a tree, then he would meditate and write poems. Eventually he had a dense and diverse palm forest where before there was nothing but bare rock and played-out soil.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most days Merwin meditates and writes in the screened-in porch built behind the potting shed.</td></tr>
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The forest has more than 2,740 individual palm trees, with more than 400 taxonomic species and 125 unique genera, and nearly 900 different horticultural varieties. It is recognized as one of the largest and most extensive palm collections known to exist on earth, according to the <a href="http://www.merwinconservancy.org/" target="_blank">Merwin Conservancy</a>, the group formed to preserve the forest indefinitely.<br />
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A couple times a month, members of the conservancy and the professional gardener Merwin hired 10 years ago, lead a free tour through the palm forest. I signed up for one. Virginia and I and two young friends who drove us went to Haiku on Maui to meet with about 10 others for the three-hour tour. It was a fun and beautiful experience.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The professional gardener Merwin hired 10 years ago explains features of the palm forest.</td></tr>
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Our only criticism was the guides need to spend more time walking and less time talking. I welcomed hearing the poetry and the stories, but some of the minutia could be cut to improve the focus.<br />
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One good story was about a palm from Madagascar. When a scientific expedition went to document the palms of Madagascar a few years ago, they couldn’t find this particular palm and feared it was extinct. They contacted Merwin (now recognized as an expert in palms, in addition to poetry). He told the biologists he had a few in his forest and would send them some seeds. Later they found the palm growing in an isolated area on Madagascar, but by then they used Merwin’s seeds to help reestablish it in other places on the island.<br />
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We enjoyed the tour, especially seeing the lush palm forest and the porch behind Merwin's potting shed where he meditates and writes. Like his poetry, the forest he created heals the soul.<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /><br />"Place"<br />by W.S. Merwin<br /><br />On the last day of the world<br />I would want to plant a tree<br /><br />what for<br />not for the fruit<br /><br />the tree that bears the fruit<br />is not the one that was planted<br /><br />I want the tree that stands<br />in the earth for the first time<br /><br />with the sun already <br />going down<br /><br />and the water<br />touching its roots<br /><br />in the earth full of the dead<br />and the clouds passing<br /><br />one by one<br />over its leaves<br /><br />(from The Rain in the Trees, Alfred A. Knopf, 1988.)</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-8372344606449089842017-01-25T14:52:00.002-08:002017-01-25T15:16:46.645-08:00Feeling the love on Maui<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A big part of Maui's beauty is found underwater, like this green seaturtle or honu'.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Part of what inspired us to go cruising was our first trip to Maui. The island and surrounding sea were even more beautiful than we imagined and the weather was perfect. I almost cried when we had to leave.
What really got my juices flowing during that first visit was a cruising boat anchored at a popular snorkel site called Coral Gardens. I imagined us blissfully at anchor, diving into the clear warm water from the deck of our own boat. We could snorkel and dive at one of Maui's prime dive spots anytime we wanted.
I started dreaming of sailing to tropical islands when I was 13. Seeing that cruising boat anchored at Coral Gardens brought the dream into sharp focus.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oceanus anchored off Olowalu just north of Coral Gardens.</td></tr>
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Seven years after our first visit, we bought <i>Oceanus</i> and began working on her restoration and refit. We visualized each project bringing us closer to the picture of us anchored off Maui.
For the most part, the reality is even better than the dream. Especially now that our diesel mechanic friend helped me fix our engine. He diagnosed the problem right away -- a stuck fuel cut-off valve on our newly-rebuilt fuel injection pump. But fixing it took nearly eight weeks because of his heavy work schedule (he could only help us on his days off), other projects he recommended, and waiting for parts (Maui is like a third-world country in that regard).
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view of the highway tunnel from anchor at Coral Gardens.</td></tr>
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Once the engine was fixed, the first place we wanted to go was Coral Gardens. For a couple of days we and our boat provided the inspiration for other people's dreams.
While at anchor there, a familiar boat picked up a mooring about 100 yards away. It was the <i>Four Winds II</i>. On our first trip to Maui our big splurge was a snorkel trip to Molokini Crater on Four Winds II. The 55-foot catamaran was under the command of Captain John.
It was 10 years since that adventure and Captain Johnisms still pepper our private conversations. We found his patter during the voyage -- especially his "rules" -- hilarious. After each "rule" (like leaving your shirt tag out, no kicking like a bicyclist while snorkeling, or not wiping your nose after taking your mask off ) he would say "no lunch for you." He also cautioned his snorkelers to pay attention and return to <i>Four Winds</i> so they didn't end up on the other snorkel boats, all of which (according to Captain John) only served Spam for lunch.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Four Winds II at Coral Gardens.</td></tr>
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We were about to jump in the water ourselves and ended up snorkeling together with the <i>Four Winds II</i> guests. Before heading back to our boat, we told one of the crew what a great time we had 10 years ago and how much we enjoyed Captain John.
“He’s aboard today,” he said, “come aboard and say hi.”
We were delighted and a little surprised (since he seemed old 10 years ago). We climbed aboard and found Captain John as affable and witty as ever. He didn’t look a day older either. After a visit, we swam back to our boat. A short time later, <i>Four Winds II</i> left their mooring. As they motored past, Captain John coned his hands around his mouth and yelled, “See you in 10 more years.”
As beautiful as Maui is, it’s the people who make it special. The locals are friendly and always ready to help. They truly practice aloha.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pu'u Olai or Red Hill as seen from our anchorage at Big Beach</td></tr>
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After we anchored at Big Beach, we went around <a href="http://www.naturalbornhikers.com/trails/puuolai.html" target="_blank">Pu'u Olai</a> (Red Hill) to check out the snorkeling there. A Pacific Whale Foundation snorkel boat was at a mooring. Virginia hailed them on the VHF to ask if they had any diet pepsi on board. She told them she would swim over with a dollar. Minutes later another Pacific Whale snorkel boat came into the anchorage aiming right for our boat. Over their loudspeaker the captain told us he had a plastic container of Coke for us. They tossed it to us. Everyone listens over channel 16 on the VHF!
One of the first times we landed on <a href="http://mauiguidebook.com/beaches/kamaole-beach-park-aka-kam-kam-ii-kam-iii/" target="_blank">Kama'ole Beach</a> at Kihei, a local named Steve introduced himself and immediately offered to drive us anywhere we wanted to go. We took him up on a lift to the auto-parts store. He then gave us his phone number so we could call him anytime we needed a ride.
Steve is not unusual. In fact, we find that he is the rule, not the exception, among the locals on Maui. Nick is another example. Shortly after we met Steve, we were sitting in our cockpit fretting over our engine troubles when Nick motored up in a small runabout. We talked about our boat and he told us he skippered a large catamaran out of <a href="http://maalaea.com/harbor-map/" target="_blank">Maalaea Harbor</a>. In fact, he heard the whole Pepsi story on channel 16. We asked him if he knew of any good diesel mechanics on the island and he put us in contact with Keith. Keith proved to be a Godsend. Not only is he a great marine diesel mechanic, he also has a Perkins diesel like ours on his boat. And he's a heck of a nice guy.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our mooring: rainbows to the east...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IlyG28fpgM0/WIkhDU-2mqI/AAAAAAAACoc/VtCcvvIsb2MnhUANPCUL5anVPiMNc9qiACLcB/s1600/P9044304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IlyG28fpgM0/WIkhDU-2mqI/AAAAAAAACoc/VtCcvvIsb2MnhUANPCUL5anVPiMNc9qiACLcB/s640/P9044304.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunsets to the west.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">To make it convenient for Keith to work on our boat, we sailed from Kihei to Lahaina and anchored near <a href="http://dlnr.hawaii.gov/dobor/mala-wharf-and-ramp/" target="_blank">Mala Wharf</a>. Lahaina always figured large in our Hawaiian cruising plans. It looked like the perfect base from which to explore the west side of Maui and the islands of Lanai and Molokai. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
A couple of weeks after anchoring off Mala we met Cory, another local. After a short conversation, he offered to rent us his registered mooring for $50 a month, since he just scored a sublease on a slip in the Lahaina Marina for his boat. We jumped at the offer, especially after he said he would put in all new chain, mooring ball and rope. Having a mooring makes it even easier to come and go on our exploring expeditions.
We found the roadstead off Mala to be a great place to hang out. It's one of the few places where we can land the dinghy without getting our feet wet. It's a great place to tie up the dinghy too. Water is available and there's a place to dump our garbage and recyclables. It's an easy walk to three different grocery stores, Barnes & Noble, two different pharmacies, a laundromat and our church. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l1-rY2aqv1U/WIkVjfAB4KI/AAAAAAAACnk/BjbUuA-PPIkJoegTvVIP0-c1iN1IHKAAwCLcB/s1600/Lahaina-FrontStreet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="353" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l1-rY2aqv1U/WIkVjfAB4KI/AAAAAAAACnk/BjbUuA-PPIkJoegTvVIP0-c1iN1IHKAAwCLcB/s640/Lahaina-FrontStreet.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lahaina's famous Front Street is just a short walk from Mala Wharf.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lahaina’s famous <a href="http://www.lahaina.com/content/front_street_lahaina.html" target="_blank">Front Street</a> -- filled with shops, galleries and restaurants -- is an easy 10-minute walk. Every few weeks we walk down and enjoy the atmosphere. We even found a used book store on Front Street where we replenish our book supply. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xdfw0WqXqj0/WIkiJmVuXsI/AAAAAAAACoo/TIwhCAxb1mgXmbGBqTowCec7pmF9BZTmQCLcB/s1600/DSCN0910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xdfw0WqXqj0/WIkiJmVuXsI/AAAAAAAACoo/TIwhCAxb1mgXmbGBqTowCec7pmF9BZTmQCLcB/s400/DSCN0910.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marsha, her dog Fin and grandson Xavier<br />
at the Lahaina Halloween Keiki Parade.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We are also not far from the home of Marsha, a high school classmate and friend, who drives us places and lets us borrow her car when we need it. We feel like part of her family and enjoy the hugs from her three grandchildren.
By boat we are close to most of the best snorkel and dive spots. <a href="http://www.to-hawaii.com/maui/ancientsites/puukekaa.php" target="_blank">Black Rock</a> is only a few minutes away and the east side of Lanai is only a 1½ hour sail. Not only is it wonderful snorkeling and diving, but it’s it a good place to escape when the Kona winds make our roadstead uncomfortable and dangerous. We haven’t gotten to Molokai yet, but we will soon.
Molokai is known as “The Friendly Isle” although the locals there will have their work cut out for them to top those from “The Valley Isle” of Maui.</span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GhQLspNtO4k/WIkry7xtIvI/AAAAAAAACpI/eH4cVxTfeUs-6_LaOZGzoXTgN8NXKB3QgCLcB/s1600/PB214415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="382" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GhQLspNtO4k/WIkry7xtIvI/AAAAAAAACpI/eH4cVxTfeUs-6_LaOZGzoXTgN8NXKB3QgCLcB/s640/PB214415.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Black Rock from the deck of <i>Oceanus</i>.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kigHEZJs6YU/WIkkzjBrcPI/AAAAAAAACo4/wQ5Ks__nDfQa5yLtj448QzDmoTKW5bElACLcB/s1600/P8304294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kigHEZJs6YU/WIkkzjBrcPI/AAAAAAAACo4/wQ5Ks__nDfQa5yLtj448QzDmoTKW5bElACLcB/s640/P8304294.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The West Maui Mountains viewed from aboard Oceanus while underway.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-7122663793371908252016-10-27T09:55:00.000-07:002016-11-02T20:28:50.969-07:00Differences between Columbia 43 MarksColumbia produced three versions of the Columbia 43: the original Mark I, a keel-centerboard version called Mark II and, after 1973, a Mark III. There's a lot of myth and misconceptions about the differences, especially between the Mk I and Mk III. I hope to cut through most of this.<br />
<br />
<h3>
Differences by the numbers</h3>
The following information came from two Columbia brochures. One is likely for the original model, which was offered as with a fin keel or with an abbreviated fin and swinging centerboard. The MkIII specifications came from a general Columbia brochure (circa 1974) which included the C-43 MkIII.<br />
<br />
<pre> KEEL KEEL/CENTERBOARD MkIII
LOA 43'3" 43'3" 43'9"
LWL 32'8" 33'0" 32'8"
BEAM 12'4" 12'4" 12'4"
DRAFT 6'11" 4'11"/10'3" 7'0"
DISPLACEMENT 22,200 23,500 22,200
BALLAST 10,300 11,600 10,300
SAIL AREA 810 sq ft 810 sq ft 852 sq ft
OPTIONAL POWER Palmer M60 50 HP Perkins 4-107 Diesel
WATER 48 gal 48 gal 50 gal
FUEL 50 gal 50 gal 50 gal
VERTICAL CLEARANCE 58'4" 58'4" 64'4"
DESIGNER Wm Tripp</pre>
<pre></pre>
<pre></pre>
<h3>
Keel differences </h3>
The big difference between the three Marks is in the keels. The Mark I has a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zX2wxwdNDfU">cast-iron keel with an intricate shape</a> when viewed from fore or aft. The Mark II has a keel stub, which houses a centerboard. The Mark III has a fiberglass and lead keel the same depth as the Mark I, but with a much shorter chord (the length between the front of the keel and its aft end).<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NbH99Nw3gHI/WBIMtL_s3vI/AAAAAAAACjw/OB8P9BA157Iqp6xQpJd-VSJxd8KEwdVOwCLcB/s1600/PA162994.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NbH99Nw3gHI/WBIMtL_s3vI/AAAAAAAACjw/OB8P9BA157Iqp6xQpJd-VSJxd8KEwdVOwCLcB/s400/PA162994.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Mark I keel viewed from the stern.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Mark I cast-iron keel has a beautiful shape that could only be achieved with a strong, heavy material like iron. It is narrow close to the hull to create a more hydrodynamic shape and then flares out near the bottom to put more weight lower increasing its leverage.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4QBYO-3J2xw/WBDdROs0oPI/AAAAAAAACi4/NYAD2UKNC3AC-1znhxMVHRqcUBPbRlv9wCLcB/s1600/c43p11a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="584" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4QBYO-3J2xw/WBDdROs0oPI/AAAAAAAACi4/NYAD2UKNC3AC-1znhxMVHRqcUBPbRlv9wCLcB/s640/c43p11a.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N1uj--re7kw/WBDdQemvpSI/AAAAAAAACi0/f6epzZAWs0Uecq0vCs85DUtT0BDGDikdQCLcB/s1600/c-43m3dg%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N1uj--re7kw/WBDdQemvpSI/AAAAAAAACi0/f6epzZAWs0Uecq0vCs85DUtT0BDGDikdQCLcB/s640/c-43m3dg%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark III. Notice the shape of the keel and the skeg-hung rudder.</td></tr>
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The designer of the Columbia 43, Bill Tripp, Jr., was rightly famous for his keel-centerboard designs, so you would expect that as an option. Of the three Marks, the Mark II is the most rare. It is also 1300-pounds heavier than either of the other two. I don't know how many Mark IIs Columbia produced, but I have never seen one offered for sale. I imagine the Mark II was somewhat more expensive than the Mark I. Unless shoal-water capability was critical, most owners would skip the extra initial expense and the added maintenance. The keel is the only difference between the Mark I and the Mark II.<br />
<br />
When the Mark III came along in 1973 (four years into the production run) it had a new keel with lead ballast and a shorter chord. The lead ballast was necessary because the keel was smaller, which gave it less wetted surface. It also put the ballast lower to accommodate the six-foot taller mast with its higher-aspect rig and 5 percent more sail area.<br />
<br />
<h3>
Rudder differences</h3>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jOfen30Z2Eo/WBDj5KWTYoI/AAAAAAAACjI/7381FrFYTi0JE75qx0zuEK8IbQnBXRrSQCLcB/s1600/PA012925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jOfen30Z2Eo/WBDj5KWTYoI/AAAAAAAACjI/7381FrFYTi0JE75qx0zuEK8IbQnBXRrSQCLcB/s400/PA012925.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Standard Mark I and II rudder.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h7IytuYu6kQ/WBDoi_0uwuI/AAAAAAAACjg/5wIxgeBnw6MH6wlhX022BdFvicRo07MdwCLcB/s1600/skeg%2Brudder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h7IytuYu6kQ/WBDoi_0uwuI/AAAAAAAACjg/5wIxgeBnw6MH6wlhX022BdFvicRo07MdwCLcB/s320/skeg%2Brudder.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The optional, skeg-hung rudder on a Mark I looks different<br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> from the Mark III.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The Mark III rudder was redesigned as well. Instead of the scimitar-shaped balanced spade on most of the Mark I and II models, it has a skeg-hung rudder. I say "most" of the Mark I and II boats because Columbia offered a <a href="http://hagothlog.blogspot.com/2014/10/sv-serendipity-great-home-now-for-sale.html">skeg-hung rudder as a option</a> for the earlier models. Some owners of these boats assume, because it has a skeg-hung rudder, it is a Mark III. It ain't necessarily so.<br />
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<h3>
Bow differences</h3>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wEflncXZKXs/WBIS2qB145I/AAAAAAAACkA/aXCCbhb71uIz6IRpFOA7-yZmSzha9XSTACLcB/s1600/PA162986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wEflncXZKXs/WBIS2qB145I/AAAAAAAACkA/aXCCbhb71uIz6IRpFOA7-yZmSzha9XSTACLcB/s320/PA162986.JPG" width="312" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mark I bow on my boat Oceanus.</td></tr>
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The bow on the Mark I and II sweeps upward in a beautiful line typical of Tripp designs until it gets to within six inches of the deck, where it goes vertical at the hull and deck joint. I don't know why it was designed and built this way. It could be to keep the boat a half-foot shorter and thus make it rate lower under the CCA (Cruising Club of America) rule, or to make the hull and deck joint easier to build. For whatever reason, the beautiful line of the bow looks broken at the top.<br />
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The Mark III carries this line to its logical conclusion, thus lengthening the base of the foretriangle (and the total length of the boat) by six inches. While this improves the aesthetics of the boat, the real reason was to increase headsail area, thus making the Mark III more competitive under the new (at the time) IOR (International <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T6wocRNB0oY/WBIvQM2MX-I/AAAAAAAACks/NEa4UjtEOJ4AqFnapyoNL16x6zIV00fnwCLcB/s1600/P2153653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T6wocRNB0oY/WBIvQM2MX-I/AAAAAAAACks/NEa4UjtEOJ4AqFnapyoNL16x6zIV00fnwCLcB/s320/P2153653.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bow of Magic Woman, a Mark III based in Monterey, Calif.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Offshore Rule). Which brings us to...<br />
<br />
<h3>
The rig</h3>
The rig on the Mark III is closer to an early IOR rig than a CCA rig. The headsail area is larger because of the six-inch extension of the bow and a six-foot taller mast. Columbia shortened the boom on the Mark III to give the mainsail a higher aspect favored by the IOR rule. The total rig change increased the sail area of the Mark III from 810 square feet to 852 square feet, or about 5 percent. The lion's share of the increase was in the foretriangle.<br />
<br />
<h3>
Different deadlight</h3>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-enwEnfRcw70/WBIrX47ZizI/AAAAAAAACkg/YbY4a8e5BpsKFzpH8OWyOWdosDTV6cv_wCLcB/s1600/DISTANTDREAMER.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-enwEnfRcw70/WBIrX47ZizI/AAAAAAAACkg/YbY4a8e5BpsKFzpH8OWyOWdosDTV6cv_wCLcB/s640/DISTANTDREAMER.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Distant Dreamer, a Mark III based in Japan, shows the two portlights on the cabin sides.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Mark I and II had the trademark long Columbia deadlight on the 43's small, gun-turret-style house. Most, but not all, Mark IIIs have two smaller rectangular opening portlights on each side.<br />
<br />
<h3>
What remained the same?</h3>
Just about everything: Same deck layout, same interior, same construction methods (except for the lead keel), same hull shape, same headroom, same cockpit configuration, in short, all the things that made the Columbia 43 the best selling of Columbia's big racing boats.<br />
<br />
<h3>
Conclusion</h3>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WZF0txQOGf8/WBImLMoyd-I/AAAAAAAACkQ/83dSX787loIdzXEjH570Y-UYW3_7LYnbwCLcB/s1600/Encore-spin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="626" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WZF0txQOGf8/WBImLMoyd-I/AAAAAAAACkQ/83dSX787loIdzXEjH570Y-UYW3_7LYnbwCLcB/s640/Encore-spin.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Encore heading for the finish in the 1971 Transpac Race where it was the overall winner.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Columbia wanted a great race boat when it commissioned Tripp to design what became the Columbia 43. Specifically, Columbia wanted a boat that could win the Transpac, which starts in Long Beach, Calif., and ends in Honolulu, Hi. That's exactly what they got. In 1971, <i>Encore</i> (a Mark I), won her class in Transpac, and was eighth overall in the fleet. In 1973, after the IOR replaced the CCA as the official rating rule, Columbia introduced the Mark III to keep the model competitive a little longer.<br />
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Now that most sailing competition is handicapped under the PHRF (Performance Handicap Rating Formula) the boats are again winning silver. The Mark I has a PHRF rating of 102 and the Mark III has a rating of 96.<br />
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Which of all the three models makes a better boat? It depends on its intended use. Since most Columbia 43 owners use their boats primarily to cruise I would venture to say the Mark I gets the nod because of its smaller headsails, shorter mast and the longer, stronger keel. But many owners love cruising in their Mark IIIs. All three variations are on the mark.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-83662859804980959222016-10-22T12:04:00.000-07:002016-10-22T12:07:39.687-07:00Sailing the Kona coast on the Island of Hawaii<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8nj96giHLGQ/WAukIl8tngI/AAAAAAAAChg/vgcfzBCszqsSKqlMDPE0i0kMuVNCkEtCwCLcB/s1600/P8034217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8nj96giHLGQ/WAukIl8tngI/AAAAAAAAChg/vgcfzBCszqsSKqlMDPE0i0kMuVNCkEtCwCLcB/s640/P8034217.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sunset from beautiful Kealakekua Bay.</td></tr>
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We could have stayed forever in Honomalino Bay, but there was no place to get water, so we headed to the next anchorage, Hookena.<br />
<br />
As we entered the bay, a long rock wall with white letters spelling “Aloha” greeted us. We anchored next to a tall cliff riddled with holes and caves. The noise of the water echoed off the wall and back to us. Adjacent to the cliff is a beautiful beach with a popular campground and a dozen or so homes up from the beach.<br />
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It's hard to imagine now, but a century earlier Hookena was the major port in south Kona with regular visits from steam ships. We could see the remains of the old wharf and landing. In 1889 Robert Lewis Stevenson came to Hookena to escape the noise and confusion of Honolulu. While we were anchored here I read one of his short stories set partly in Hookena.<br />
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We visited the week before school started. There were lots of local families camping there, enjoying their last week of freedom. People are naturally curious about us when we come ashore. We often get peppered with questions. The most common is “What do you eat?” followed by “Do you sleep on your boat?” “How long did it take to sail here?” and “Are you scared?” We answer their questions and, if we like them, them to swim out and visit us, but this rarely happens.<br />
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The morning of our second day at Hookena, we looked out and saw three preteens (a brother, sister and the brother's friend) swimming to our boat. We recognized them as questioners from the day before and invited them aboard. We fed them cookies. The next day their older sister and mom swam out to visit us. It was a fun!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x_qKgIzzZHA/WAulFqPDJ8I/AAAAAAAACho/9PFa8GYjXdcBC9kc6Uoh3jMrNWYUhOFSQCLcB/s1600/P7304160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x_qKgIzzZHA/WAulFqPDJ8I/AAAAAAAACho/9PFa8GYjXdcBC9kc6Uoh3jMrNWYUhOFSQCLcB/s640/P7304160.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Although found on reefs throughout the topical Pacific, yellow tangs must like Hawaii the best. There are so many of them Kona get's its nickname "The Gold Coast" from their great numbers.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We enjoyed snorkeling every day at Hookena. The predominant fish is the ubiquitous yellow tang. There are so many on the Kona side of the Island of Hawaii that it is often called the Gold Coast. We even saw a rare color variant of a yellow tang that was mostly white. Some people call these ghost tangs.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q3GfxD3Ijq0/WAuvsiO3DtI/AAAAAAAACh4/GYnajjwR9T0ACVOr2CZnmQkWUrtiz0w0wCLcB/s1600/Ghost_tang.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q3GfxD3Ijq0/WAuvsiO3DtI/AAAAAAAACh4/GYnajjwR9T0ACVOr2CZnmQkWUrtiz0w0wCLcB/s320/Ghost_tang.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ghost tang.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We went scuba diving one day with our friend <a href="https://www.vrbo.com/62707">Garry</a> and two of his guests, Ginger and Grant from Texas. We started at the old ruins of the wharf and found interesting rock formations including an arch near the point. The coral is healthy and abundant and so are the reef fish. Virginia saw a reticulated butterflyfish, an octopus, a pair of lined butterflyfish the size of dinner plates and other of our favorite rare fish. Diving the Big Island is always a treat.<br />
<br />
Most mornings we were greeted with a pod of dolphins swimming around the boat. They usually stayed a couple of hours jumping and spinning around our boat. Brandon would don fins and mask and join them in the clear water. He would stay in one spot and let the dolphins swim past him. Virginia usually preferred to watch them perched on the deck box. She felt she could see more of the action that way.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-60Z2goEJam4/WAuwuZ-lsxI/AAAAAAAACiI/u2LGYE8usdkov-m2b2dwF-2cK_HKm6RhQCLcB/s1600/P8044231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="442" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-60Z2goEJam4/WAuwuZ-lsxI/AAAAAAAACiI/u2LGYE8usdkov-m2b2dwF-2cK_HKm6RhQCLcB/s640/P8044231.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Swimming with wild dolphins a Kealakekua Bay.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Some people are weird about swimmers in the water with the spinner dolphins. We are strongly against chasing or harassing them in any way. If you quietly stay in one place the dolphins usually come to you. They seem as interested in us as we are in watching them. A couple of locals who frequent the beach told us that last winter the park was closed because of an outbreak of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dengue_fever">Dengue Fever</a> in the area. They admitted sneaking in while the park was closed and said they never saw the dolphins come into the bay to swim. Their opinion was the pod wasn't interested in visiting the bay when there are no swimmers to play with.<br />
<br />
The Big Island is strict about staying anchored in the same place for more than 72 hours. We pushed our luck and stayed five days before we moved on.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-puwDgE6mass/WAuwE5ESg9I/AAAAAAAACh8/Cyys1yPflw09nntmce6QOrtoJN06-efUACLcB/s1600/P8044239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-puwDgE6mass/WAuwE5ESg9I/AAAAAAAACh8/Cyys1yPflw09nntmce6QOrtoJN06-efUACLcB/s400/P8044239.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The base of the Capt. Cook monument. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our next stop was Kealakekua Bay, best known as the place where Captain James Cook was killed in 1779. The main attraction to this bay is the Marine Conservation District in the north part of the bay and the monument memorializing the spot Cook died. The bay is rightly famous for its coral heads and many varieties of reef fish.<br />
<br />
The first morning we were here, Virginia paddled over to the monument on the kayak. Brandon hung on to the back of the kayak for part of the way and swam part of the way from where we were anchored to the monument, about a mile. The effort was worth it. The coral and reef life near the monument was the most beautiful we have ever seen. Snorkel boats and guided groups of kayakers filled the water, but even that couldn't spoil the splendor of the surroundings.<br />
<br />
You can't anchor or land a kayak anywhere in the marine conservation area near the monument, so we took turns: one of us staying with the kayak while the other climbed a badly-corroded steel ladder to view the Cook memorial.<br />
<br />
Up to this point we hadn't encountered any other cruising boats in Hawaii, But we did meet an ex-cruiser while anchored at Kealakekua Bay. One afternoon, after returning from visiting the monument, a woman named Gretchen swam up to the boat and introduced herself, She said she cruised the South Pacific for a couple of years about a decade ago. We invited her aboard, handed her a towel, and had a wonderful visit. She now lives nearby Kealakekua, but she was born and raised on Kauai.<br />
<br />
We enjoyed two beautiful sunsets and a very protected anchorage in Kealakekua Bay. There was almost no motion at night, almost like being in a marina -- not like most of the other anchorages that are open to waves and swell.<br />
<br />
We weren't about to push our luck with the 72-hour rule at this anchorage and only stayed two nights then sailed on.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uYvawfDAI4Q/WAuxqoJkT_I/AAAAAAAACiQ/vwXHd55uR50TaoljtVSzDRGZKu2Oj155QCLcB/s1600/P8084253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uYvawfDAI4Q/WAuxqoJkT_I/AAAAAAAACiQ/vwXHd55uR50TaoljtVSzDRGZKu2Oj155QCLcB/s640/P8084253.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset at Kailua Kona.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our next stop was the busy town of Kailua Kona. We anchored just out of the harbor and next to a popular swimming lane. All day local people swam by our boat. Many of the swimmers would stop and visit with us. We enjoyed talking with them and several of them told stories about other boats who anchored without regard for the coral. They were impressed that Brandon always dove on the anchor to make sure it or the chain was not a danger to the coral.<br />
<br />
Kailua Kona is the tourist hub of the Big Island and we enjoyed walking around this cute shops and historical sites. We ate some pretty good fish 'n chips at a restaurant with a great view of our boat. We also called our <a href="http://hagothlog.blogspot.com/2016/09/riding-out-darby-in-honomalino-bay.html">Uber girl, Gigi</a>, and arranged for a Costco run and to pick up other supplies.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AKnw_bpzegw/WAu0TMAfe4I/AAAAAAAACik/73HOO_JXjLA2yQBBEWaGsARFWXWSxcGiACEw/s1600/P8114260.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AKnw_bpzegw/WAu0TMAfe4I/AAAAAAAACik/73HOO_JXjLA2yQBBEWaGsARFWXWSxcGiACEw/s640/P8114260.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At anchor in rolly Kailua Kona.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The anchorage is well known for being one of the most consistently uncomfortable anchorage in the islands. We are pretty tolerant of rolly anchorages and were comfortable for the first four days. Then the wind and waves started coming from different directions and we soon learned why no one stays long in Kailua Bay. We decided to leave the next morning.<br />
<br />
Alas, our charmed life turned against us. Our engine didn't want to work well. We messed with it all day and got it to function well enough that we could leave the next morning. It wasn't working perfectly, but we were able to get out of the harbor, put up our sails and head to Nishimura Bay, which is on the north end of the Big Island.<br />
<br />
There we would wait for fair winds to cross the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Channels_of_the_Hawaiian_Islands">Alenuihaha Channel</a>. This small bay had a rock wall and beautiful trees amid big lava rocks. Underwater was beautiful as well with plenty of coral and fish. We wished we had taken a picture but we didn't. The wind howled the two days we were anchored so we didn't dare go ashore or snorkel. We were safe in our little bay: while the water was calm in the anchorage, just outside we watched the white caps and big waves march by.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eT-E1Lyrk7o/WAu0TNWc0XI/AAAAAAAACic/qsbtvoi_UsUh0-6oxjzmbTyzXe_PdiSkgCEw/s1600/P8154263.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eT-E1Lyrk7o/WAu0TNWc0XI/AAAAAAAACic/qsbtvoi_UsUh0-6oxjzmbTyzXe_PdiSkgCEw/s640/P8154263.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Short drying time in windy Honomalino Bay.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We finally met another cruising boat. They were a California couple who sailed their Hunter 45 sailboat to Hawaii four years ago. They now keep it in a Honolulu marina for most of the year while they are home in California and cruise the islands for a couple of months in the summer. They were headed to Hana on Maui. The day they left the winds looked wicked.<br />
<br />
The U.S. Coast Guard warns the “channel is generally regarded as one of the most treacherous channels in the world because of strong winds and high seas.” The channel creates a venturi effect between two of the world's tallest mountains – on Maui, Haleakala and on Hawaii, Mauna Kea. The current generated by 2000 miles of trade winds is forced to funnel in between the two islands making for a strong current.<br />
<br />
Our fair winds showed up the next morning, Aug. 16, and away we went. Like many of our passages, we were told how bad it would be. Once again, nothing evil happened and we actually enjoyed the windy sail to Maui. After all, why have such a great sailboat if you can't have wind to sail? Five hours later we dropped our anchor in a big sand patch at Big Beach on the south end of Maui.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kRzgN-E0BW0/WAu0TOpa_qI/AAAAAAAACig/PzEBD-hETj4bZFFaLNL2B5-JNntd2AuBgCEw/s1600/P8164276.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kRzgN-E0BW0/WAu0TOpa_qI/AAAAAAAACig/PzEBD-hETj4bZFFaLNL2B5-JNntd2AuBgCEw/s640/P8164276.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the Alenuihaha Chanel was a blast!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-46368292789249424082016-09-26T19:08:00.001-07:002016-09-27T11:55:53.922-07:00Cruising isn't all sunshine and pretty fishes<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HqxWRLHtTIE/V-lcTZdXWxI/AAAAAAAACg4/mEzgAdSOWYwfMDMZR2VEHy6fG51yWuBggCLcB/s1600/P8154271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HqxWRLHtTIE/V-lcTZdXWxI/AAAAAAAACg4/mEzgAdSOWYwfMDMZR2VEHy6fG51yWuBggCLcB/s400/P8154271.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Virginia takes advantage of windy Nishamura Bay on the <br />
Island of Hawaii to dry a batch of laundry.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We often have people tell us, “you are living my dream!” Sometimes it feels like we are living a nightmare.<br />
<br />
Blogs abound about the glorious sunsets, islands and fabulous experiences of cruising. No wonder it is a dream of so many – sailors and non-sailors alike – to sail away. But we want to tell the truth. What is it really like?<br />
<br />
There is a saying that cruising can be defined as fixing your boat in exotic places. Things break... all the time. While most things we can fix, we have been frustrated for nearly two months with an engine that has stubbornly refused to work. Each time we thought we had it figured out, the fix didn't work. Our mechanic friend, Henry, did his best to analyze the problem over the phone. We appreciated his effort and knowledge, still, nothing worked. At one point we would have traded the boat for two one-way tickets home. Stuck in bouncy, murky anchorages is discouraging and not what we signed up for. (The engine saga continues in future posts. We think we've almost got it fixed.)<br />
<br />
We have to fix things no matter how hot it is or how much the boat is bouncing around. We have lots of bruises most of the time. They look great with our tan.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zK1PZVqRouM/V-lelWz9BkI/AAAAAAAAChE/5UieOjesZHAXtFtm1KDBtmrb7kqKERQLACLcB/s1600/P9174321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zK1PZVqRouM/V-lelWz9BkI/AAAAAAAAChE/5UieOjesZHAXtFtm1KDBtmrb7kqKERQLACLcB/s640/P9174321.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Virginia sews a zipper on the bimini so we can put up our cockpit cover. The zipper was ripped off by the wind during tropical storm Darby. Note the seasick bands. Even at anchor she sometimes gets seasick.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Filth. There is a whole new degree of filth you need to accept. Water is scarce, so showers are usually limited to about a gallon and we use our solar shower almost exclusively now we are in a warm climate. Laundry either is done by hand (which takes hours) or toted a mile or more to the laundromat. We often find ourselves smelling our clothes to see if we can get away with wearing it one more day!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g-KAta9Z9Ag/V-nQyfg6YhI/AAAAAAAAChQ/qy48-pjfZ1ggTz0MUmpOzX9u1UHzqmL1ACLcB/s1600/DSCN0888.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g-KAta9Z9Ag/V-nQyfg6YhI/AAAAAAAAChQ/qy48-pjfZ1ggTz0MUmpOzX9u1UHzqmL1ACLcB/s400/DSCN0888.jpg" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two six-gallon jugs of water weigh nearly <br />
100 pounds.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Water is an almost daily chore. In Hawaii, at least it's free and easy to find. We often anchor off beach parks. They usually have water. We drag a couple of our six-gallon jugs to the beach in the dinghy, fill them up, then row them back to the boat and lift and pull the 48 pounds of water onto the boat. Then we siphon the water from the jugs into our water tank.<br />
<br />
Daily life doesn't stop just because we are “livin' the dream.” Floors still get dirty, cupboards still need to be cleaned, engine oil needs to be changed, composting head needs attention. On a boat all these tasks are a little more difficult. No room for broom and mop closets means sweeping the floor with a whisk broom on your hands and knees. Same when its time to mop. Cupboards are replaced by lockers on a boat and they are usually deep, inaccessible and awkward to clean. The “engine room” is tiny, cramped and very hot most of the time. Food needs to be cooked no matter how much the boat is moving.<br />
<br />
Years ago at the Seattle Boat Show we saw shirts for sale: The woman's shirt said “Quit Yelling At Me!” the man's shirt said “I'm Not Yelling!” That sums up bad days.<br />
<br />
Boredom is a problem sometimes. What! In Hawaii!? Some days the wind and waves make it difficult and even unsafe to go ashore. So we are stuck on the boat. We are currently in a murky, tiger-shark-infested anchorage and can't snorkel. So we read, or pace, or read, or go crazy. This is harder on Virginia (think border collie) than Brandon (think tree sloth).<br />
<br />
We have to (get to?) walk everywhere, usually lugging something like laundry, groceries, gas or diesel jugs. I don't think we would recognize each other if we weren't carrying something. We are to the point where if our destination is only a mile away we think "Score! That's close." The upside is that we've both lost 30 pounds since we left Newport in February.<br />
<br />
A <a href="http://www.southonabike.com/">friend</a> traveling from Oregon to the tip of South America on a motorbike told us that traveling is not the same as vacationing. We try to remember that.<br />
<br />
It's hard work, this sailboat life. Would we do it again if we knew then what we know now? You bet!<br />
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BNY5HxNetDU/V-ld6_bSLfI/AAAAAAAAChA/bNoq-uGHIgcxR5pWM_szqCzhSq75sG1ogCLcB/s1600/P8314300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="394" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BNY5HxNetDU/V-ld6_bSLfI/AAAAAAAAChA/bNoq-uGHIgcxR5pWM_szqCzhSq75sG1ogCLcB/s640/P8314300.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A rainbow over Lahaina. Sometimes the view is so beautiful it takes your breath away.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-74832523537705397032016-09-12T19:21:00.001-07:002016-09-12T19:25:15.065-07:00Riding out DARBY in Honomalino Bay<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iNUR4nwoGRI/V9de4LCOVgI/AAAAAAAACgQ/7vSXHCpH61kbGBjEjP0Id9MOFgJDHeOxwCLcB/s1600/P7164019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iNUR4nwoGRI/V9de4LCOVgI/AAAAAAAACgQ/7vSXHCpH61kbGBjEjP0Id9MOFgJDHeOxwCLcB/s640/P7164019.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oceanus anchored in beautiful Honomalino Bay. The bay could easily accommodate six cruising yachts, but we didn't have to share.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
If Honomalino Bay were anywhere else in the United States it would be continually overrun with cruising boats. It has clear beautiful warm water, perfect depth and a sandy bottom for holding an anchor, good protection from prevailing wind and waves, great snorkeling, coconut palms, and a black sand beach. Most days there are only a few beach goers. There were a few fishing boats that came into the bay for an hour or two, but for the most part, the eight days we anchored there we had this gem of a bay to ourselves.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7ev8YO5G-zg/V9dfZ64P6LI/AAAAAAAACgU/oJfp4RLjk6gLJW3OUjSFIhnH6PPDA6YYgCLcB/s1600/P7194057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7ev8YO5G-zg/V9dfZ64P6LI/AAAAAAAACgU/oJfp4RLjk6gLJW3OUjSFIhnH6PPDA6YYgCLcB/s320/P7194057.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reticulated butterflyfish in Honomalino Bay. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We really enjoyed the snorkeling here. The number and variety of reef fish are as good as anywhere we've snorkeled. We saw fish we have been searching for in ten years of Hawaiian vacations: reticulated and saddleback butterfly fishes. Our Hawaiian fish identification book call both of them “very rare” in the islands. I also saw another favorite rare fish, the black morph of the long-nose butterfly fish, a fish we've seen in only one other place.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n98sTfVa6Yc/V9dgJ8eapOI/AAAAAAAACgY/kzRCzoeZoygwSIfTA5Koga9lTAOIoVZcwCLcB/s1600/P7254122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n98sTfVa6Yc/V9dgJ8eapOI/AAAAAAAACgY/kzRCzoeZoygwSIfTA5Koga9lTAOIoVZcwCLcB/s320/P7254122.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A saddleback butterflyfish; another rare find in Honomalino Bay.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We felt well protected in this bay and we put it to the test. One day, we motored over to the tiny fishing village of Miloli'i to get water. While there, some people Virginia met talked about the tropical storm Darby about to hit the island. “What storm?” she said. “Oh don't worry,” they said. “Hurricanes and storms never come to the west side because of the volcano.”<br />
<br />
We were considering leaving the next day to go north, but after checking the weather we decided Honomalino Bay was the best bay all along the west side to ride out the storm. Darby was expected to make landfall on Saturday but we didn't see much wind. In fact we joked around about how vicious the storm was. We should have kept quiet.<br />
<br />
That night Darby did what no one thought he would do, he turned left and blew right over the west side of the island. Right over our heads. At one point all was calm and we smiled until we realized the eye of the storm was right over us. Soon the winds picked up again. The winds probably reached only 45 to 50 knots in the bay, but the boat rolled all night so much we couldn't sleep. During the night the dinghy, which I should have hauled up on deck and stowed upside down in it's chocks, turn sideways, filled with water and banged against the side of the boat.<br />
<br />
In the morning, the storm was well north of us heading up the Hawaiian chain. Virginia got two or three hours of sleep, by making a nest of settee cushions on the cabin sole. I stayed in the bunk and didn't sleep at all. At 6:30 a.m., our scuba-diving friend, Garry, called us to check on us. He said he had never seen the winds blow that much on the west side. Darby was only the fifth named storm the hit the island since the government started keeping records in 1949.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yb_LX4pl8Qo/V9dgsF59kyI/AAAAAAAACgc/fedY2dde8oAUAJOxfe41MwT4fjnlwNYhwCLcB/s1600/P7164024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yb_LX4pl8Qo/V9dgsF59kyI/AAAAAAAACgc/fedY2dde8oAUAJOxfe41MwT4fjnlwNYhwCLcB/s400/P7164024.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Virginia considers the exotic plant life at the beginning of the trail to Miloli'i.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In spite of Darby, we really enjoyed our time here. Garry and his wife Susan really made our stay enjoyable. Gary drove us to the grocery store and, later, gave us 10 gallons of fresh water. They also let us use a house they own and run as a VRBO (Vacation Rental By Owner) so we could wash all our dirty clothes and have a real shower. (There were no guests staying in it that day.) Garry also took us scuba diving a couple of times. These are great people! If you want a wonderful scuba vacation experience, check out their <a href="https://www.vrbo.com/62707">VRBO on the big island</a>.<br />
<br />
After our morning snorkel one day, we met a young lady on the beach doing her homework. Like most people, she was curious about how we got around and how we got food. We told her we usually walk, sometimes rented a car or used Uber. She volunteered to be our transportation while were were on the Big Island. We called her Gigi our Uber girl. The arrangement worked perfect; she got money and time to study while we did shopping and laundry and our feet got a nice rest. We also found her to be delightful and interesting company.<br />
<div>
<br />
Most afternoons and evenings, after any beach goers left, we watched as a small herd of goats came down to the bay. They were black with brown markings around their faces and legs and blended well with the black lava-rock cliffs. We would watch them from the boat. They seemed to be as curious about us as we were about them, especially the kids.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bDflzcfkdPw/V9dhftXgj5I/AAAAAAAACgg/wh2GCyK1fLUP3T013Tfxin71JUuM5mjHQCLcB/s1600/P7194033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="520" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bDflzcfkdPw/V9dhftXgj5I/AAAAAAAACgg/wh2GCyK1fLUP3T013Tfxin71JUuM5mjHQCLcB/s640/P7194033.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most mornings a small pod of spinner dolphins visited us.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Four of the mornings we anchored in Honomalino a pod of spinner dolphins visited the bay. We would watch from the deck or jump in a swim with them. One morning when we motored out of the bay in our dinghy to meet Garry for a dive, the boat drew the dolphins like a magnet. They escorted us out of the bay jumping and spinning just a yard or two in front of the dinghy.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-32TfdpzZGEk/V9dh4mzOl6I/AAAAAAAACgo/OjErsVBwb2EDOhDcBqr0jNSBswCsNcVowCLcB/s1600/P7254105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-32TfdpzZGEk/V9dh4mzOl6I/AAAAAAAACgo/OjErsVBwb2EDOhDcBqr0jNSBswCsNcVowCLcB/s640/P7254105.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In addition to our dinghy, Virginia has a sit-on-the-top kayak. It comes in handy for many tasks, like recovering our stern anchor after the rode parted during Darby. Paddling it around is fun too.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We wanted to stay longer, but we needed to get to a place where we could refill our water tanks. We were also eager to see more of the Kona Coast.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-69328148337894507702016-08-23T11:09:00.000-07:002016-08-23T11:09:13.911-07:00Rounding scarey South Point <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SBQqmvGAwsw/V7x6FqQcUPI/AAAAAAAACfg/8Lt7MsYuUYE8G9mj_qY1Xzdmu7axNCQqACLcB/s1600/DSCN0881.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SBQqmvGAwsw/V7x6FqQcUPI/AAAAAAAACfg/8Lt7MsYuUYE8G9mj_qY1Xzdmu7axNCQqACLcB/s640/DSCN0881.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving Hilo. You can just make out the observatories on Mauna Loa, the largest volcano on earth.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While we weren't exactly dreading rounding <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ka_Lae">South Point</a>, we were both looking forward to it with trepidation. This passage is infamous for its difficulty because of the strong winds and currents that are usually present. The winds are so consistently strong that the trees grow sideways away from the prevailing winds.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QjuJlWZ-ySU/V7x8I4FQ_gI/AAAAAAAACfs/XuaaGzBMrz4zKTVal2V6IaJUPccKLj2aACLcB/s1600/Wind-blown_tree_Ka_Lae_Hawaii.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QjuJlWZ-ySU/V7x8I4FQ_gI/AAAAAAAACfs/XuaaGzBMrz4zKTVal2V6IaJUPccKLj2aACLcB/s400/Wind-blown_tree_Ka_Lae_Hawaii.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A wind-blown tree at South Point, Ka Lae in Hawaiian.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Virginia watched the weather reports closely and it looked favorable on July 13 so we decided to make a run for it. We wanted to pass the volcano in the dark so we could see the lava flow at night. We figured leaving at around 11 a.m. would be about right. The total passage to Honomalino Bay looked to be about a 23-hours. We decided to do our watch schedule of four-hours on, four-hours off. The wind was almost perfect the minute we got outside the breakwater. Off with the engine and up with the sails.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6NiBdeLYRq8/V7x5TmH4JEI/AAAAAAAACfY/SnNcXlL0XTo_JBbp0GpKF7gvZV9ehTqUgCLcB/s1600/P7143956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6NiBdeLYRq8/V7x5TmH4JEI/AAAAAAAACfY/SnNcXlL0XTo_JBbp0GpKF7gvZV9ehTqUgCLcB/s640/P7143956.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smoke and steam mark the path of lava down the Kilauea Volcano to the sea.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We always underestimate how fast <i>Oceanus</i> goes. We wanted to be at the <a href="https://www.nps.gov/havo/planyourvisit/lava2.htm">Kilauea lava flow</a> after dark, but sailed past late in the afternoon, good for seeing the steam, but not for viewing glowing hot lava. What was beautiful, was the reflection of red from the lava on the underside of the clouds.<br />
<br />
The interesting part was the smell. A month earlier, when we were out in the middle of the ocean, we talked about other people's experience of smelling the land before you could see it. We were looking forward to smelling Hawaii because everyone knows how wonderful Hawaii smells. Imagine our disappointment when all we could smell was, what we thought was, petroleum. We never could figure it out until we passed the spewing volcano. There was the smell: an odd petroleum, sulfur-like smell. Lava.<br />
<br />
The winds were holding up. We were going about 7 knots and it was pleasant sailing. Virginia had the watch from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m., which put her at South Point near the end of her watch. She was a little nervous because of the horror stories, but she said it was the easiest passage ever. In fact at 1 a.m., while approaching the point, she was so bored she considered calling her night shift nurse friends at North Lincoln Hospital in Lincoln City. Then she realized it was 4 a.m. in Oregon—a really busy time for night shift.<br />
<br />
She woke me up around 1:30 a.m. because she needed help changing tacks as we rounded the point. I took over since I was already up.<br />
<br />
The 14 wind turbines of the Pakini Nui wind generation project on South Point are each topped by a bright red light, which all blink in unison. Those lights, combined with the blinking white light from the Ka Lae (Hawaiian for <i>the point</i>) lighthouse, made for an enjoyable, ever-changing light show and stayed visible from the boat for almost an hour.<br />
<br />
The winds got lighter and <i>Oceanus</i> slowed down, which was a good thing since we won't enter a strange anchorage—any anchorage, really—in the dark. The sky was clear and the ocean fairly smooth. In the waning darkness I saw a green navigation light dead ahead. It didn't seem to be moving, but <i>Oceanus</i>' speed was only about 2 knots by this time. I wasn't worried, but I also kept close tabs on the vessel. I figured it was a fishing boat waiting for daybreak. I was right; at first light she began moving and set a course south and out of my path.<br />
<br />
Virginia relieved me a short time later. I dropped into my bunk and seemed to fall instantly to sleep. It didn't last long. About an hour later I felt Virginia shake me awake. She had started the engine, which usually gets me on deck as quick as I can pull on my pants, but not this morning. I came on deck groggy as she peppered me with questions. Finally I had to beg for a moment to get my bearings. According to the GPS, we were outside our planned anchorage, but where exactly it was wasn't clear.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8DgFPYQWrds/V7x4v4CBQpI/AAAAAAAACfU/GmIE74yZx0s28uFH-noksw5Im_hEOKPmQCLcB/s1600/P7153963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="458" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8DgFPYQWrds/V7x4v4CBQpI/AAAAAAAACfU/GmIE74yZx0s28uFH-noksw5Im_hEOKPmQCLcB/s640/P7153963.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Virginia at Honomalino Bay.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We consulted the cruising guide, but still weren't sure. Finally, after searching the shoreline with binoculars, the instructions made sense. We slowly motored past the rocky reefs and carefully felt our way into Honomalino Bay about 7:30 in the morning.<br />
<br />
From the bow of the boat I could see the bottom nearly 80 feet below us. By the time we reached a good anchoring depth of 25 feet I could clearly see the ripples in the sand patch in the middle of the bay. We dropped anchor and set it. I slipped on my mask and fins and dove into the clear, warm water to check the anchor, which was buried deep in the sand.<br />
<br />
Beautiful palm trees, black sand beach, sandy bottom perfect for holding an anchor, protected from wind and waves: it was a perfect anchorage and we were the only boat and people in sight.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VA661L8cKEc/V7x_sfbsjWI/AAAAAAAACf4/NMK0z33KO5srY648Qsop7YZkd4QH4rWqACLcB/s1600/P7164021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VA661L8cKEc/V7x_sfbsjWI/AAAAAAAACf4/NMK0z33KO5srY648Qsop7YZkd4QH4rWqACLcB/s640/P7164021.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oceanus anchored in Honomalino Bay.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-53343526240790653352016-08-21T21:18:00.000-07:002016-08-22T09:54:23.231-07:00Hanging in Hilo on the Island of HawaiiWe anchored in Reeds
Bay at Hilo on the Big Island for almost a month while we waited for
parts and fixing things that broke on our 22-day passage. We found
the bay to be a good anchorage and comfortable most of the time. We
were also impressed with the great holding. (More about that later.)<br />
<br />
We got to know Hilo
pretty well. It didn't take long, it isn't that big, but I can't
think of any city with a more distinctive character. Once we figured
out the bus system, we could easily get downtown to a laundromat,
grocery store and a great bookstore.
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tAinisBKvpI/V7nL9oZA6yI/AAAAAAAACeY/0Qr54KhE66Qpyv6o2cX04wo0PUhwSpdeQCLcB/s1600/pmnm-map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tAinisBKvpI/V7nL9oZA6yI/AAAAAAAACeY/0Qr54KhE66Qpyv6o2cX04wo0PUhwSpdeQCLcB/s640/pmnm-map.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Hilo is also the
home of the visitor's center for the <a href="http://www.papahanaumokuakea.gov/">Papahanaumokuakea Marine National Monument</a>. Designated in June 2006, the monument encompasses
the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands from a little northwest of Kaua'i
to about Midway Atoll, covering 4,500 square miles. The coral reefs
inside the monument are among the healthiest reefs in the word and 90
percent of Hawaiian green turtles nest on its islets. A national
monument has the highest level of protection of any designation, so it
requires special permits to visit this area. We enjoyed the exhibits in the visitor's center, especially the 3,500 gallon saltwater aquarium.That the visitor's center is located in Hilo is kinda funny since Hilo is about as far
away from the monument as you can get and still be in the Hawaiian
islands.<br />
<br />
We enjoyed a whole
afternoon of poking our heads into the t-shirt and souvenir shops,
not to mention the candy shops. One standout was <a href="http://www.moonstruckpatisserie.com/">Moonstruck Patisserie</a>, a little French bakery where Virginia had passion-fruit cheesecake and I had the best
croissant of my life. It really was love at first bite.<br />
<br />
A big highlight during our stay at Hilo was
seeing our friends Jason, Renee and their daughter Elli. We visited
their beautiful property outside of Hilo where they are building a
house. One weekend Renee and Elli spent their Saturday taking us to
the <a href="http://www.tropicalsnorkeling.com/snorkeling-kapoho-tide-pools.html">Kapoho tide pools</a> to snorkel, followed by hamburgers at their
place. We really needed that outing since there are no good snorkel
spots within walking distance of our anchorage, that we know about,
anyway. Renee also generously lent us her car two different weekends
to run errands, go to church and sight see.
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v4bSzoyhMl4/V7nXwZqMAFI/AAAAAAAACek/vgjE0oLv_6ACVBQ1EShtdJreX635wDAnACEw/s1600/BotGarden2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v4bSzoyhMl4/V7nXwZqMAFI/AAAAAAAACek/vgjE0oLv_6ACVBQ1EShtdJreX635wDAnACEw/s400/BotGarden2.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The waterfall at the Hawaiian Botanical Garden.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One of the
unforgettable places we went was the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hawaii_Tropical_Botanical_Garden">Hawaiian Botanical Gardens</a>. If
you ever go to Hilo this is a must see. It was started by a couple
who bought 17 acres of undeveloped, garbage-strewn valley on Onomea
Bay and spent six year hand-clearing the sight. They turned it into a
garden of Eden and opened it to the public in 1984. Tropical plants
from all over the world grow here. It's now a self-sustaining
non-profit nature preserve and has expanded to 34 acres, much of it
held in reserve for future conservation and protection.<br />
<br />
From our boat we
could see a restaurant called <a href="http://www.fodors.com/world/north-america/usa/hawaii/big-island/restaurants/reviews/ponds-hilo-606097">The Ponds</a>. We fantasized for a few days
about eating fish and chips there before we finally walked over and
tried the place out. Yes, the fish and chips were everything we hoped
they would be. We ended up going there twice during our stay.<br />
<br />
For the
Fourth of July we celebrated by going out to breakfast at
<a href="http://www.kenshouseofpancakes.com/">Ken's House of Pancakes</a>. It is mentioned in every travel guide and
was an easy walk from the bay. It is justifiably famous for the food.
We had huge omelets and pancakes with passion-fruit syrup. We left
stuffed and waddled back to the boat. <span style="line-height: 100%;">That night we watched the
firework show over Coconut Island from our boat.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 100%;"><br />We made friends with
Chris, the owner of a little store not far from our boat called All
Kine Stuffs. She was nice
enough to let us have our replacement alternator shipped to her
store. Her store also carried pink wintergreen mints my wife calls
headache pills. These candies that are like crack cocaine to her and
they are next to impossible to find. (Call her and she can tell you why she calls then headache pills.)
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V6urxoMz2iY/V7nbhFyrSBI/AAAAAAAACew/32KojEVs8ecSxAetl357cchQTiBrbc74gCLcB/s1600/IMG_0087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="354" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V6urxoMz2iY/V7nbhFyrSBI/AAAAAAAACew/32KojEVs8ecSxAetl357cchQTiBrbc74gCLcB/s640/IMG_0087.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the Bonsai at the Hilo gallery.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We found an
interesting round building on one of our walks and decided to check
it out. It is the <a href="https://www.hawaiianairlines.com/island-guide/hawaii-island/places/arts/wailoa-center">Wailoa Center</a>, a gallery run by an art organization for local artists.
We enjoyed the paintings from several different local artists. Most
of the paintings were land or seascapes from the Big Island's west
side. The following weekend the gallery had a Bonsai show. We walked
the two miles to the gallery and saw some of the most beautiful
Bonsai I've ever seen—many of them 50 or 60 years old.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 100%;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 100%;">Everyone says that
all is does in Hilo is rain. We didn't find that to be the case.
Maybe because we are from the Pacific Northwest where rainfall of 90
inches a year is no big deal. While it did rain almost every day, it
didn't rain all day, just two or three intense downpours, mostly at
night. A cruise ship moored in the Harbor every Tuesday. The first
Tuesday we were there was the only time I saw it rain nearly all day.
It was raining so hard we could hardly see the cruise ship from our
boat. We felt sorry for the people on board.
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g_bFUbEOpK4/V7ndKqHmy8I/AAAAAAAACe8/Fk5ZbIfWY2YokLcznXTSmq0cqP0DCkVagCLcB/s1600/P7123954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g_bFUbEOpK4/V7ndKqHmy8I/AAAAAAAACe8/Fk5ZbIfWY2YokLcznXTSmq0cqP0DCkVagCLcB/s640/P7123954.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cruise ship leaving Hilo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We enjoyed watching
the cruise ship coming and going, but not as much as the canoe club
races, which took place nearly every evening. Most of the canoes were
six-person outriggers, but there were also some sleek one-person
outriggers as well. Some mornings canoes full of students would
paddle past our boat and stop for a visit.
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DnXbb8EzyWs/V7p5m3LL1SI/AAAAAAAACfI/BAIseugRrqkAs1AWwcezIkRpWiD_wAFRwCLcB/s1600/0615161420b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="570" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DnXbb8EzyWs/V7p5m3LL1SI/AAAAAAAACfI/BAIseugRrqkAs1AWwcezIkRpWiD_wAFRwCLcB/s640/0615161420b.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lili'uokalani Park.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Every time we walked to downtown we passed the Liliʻuokalani Park and Gardens. This 30-acre Japanese gardens is beautiful and felt like something out of a storybook. The park's site was a gift from Queen Liliʻuokalani and was built in the early 1900s. It is one of the largest such gardens outside Japan. The gardens contain Waihonu Pond as well as bridges, koi ponds, pagodas, statues, torii, and a Japanese teahouse.<br />
<br />
We planned to leave
July 5<sup>th</sup> but when we tried to pull the anchor up it
wouldn't budge. I dove in and discovered it was tangled around a
large barnacle-encrusted piece of machinery. No wonder the holding
was so great! I also found our prop to be completely encrusted with
barnacles after just a few weeks in the bay. The next day I strapped
on my scuba tank and untangled the anchor chain and scrubbed and
chiseled the barnacles off the prop and other places. Then we waited
for a couple more days for favorable winds to get us around South
Point. We had heard scary stories about this passage, but that's for
the next blog.
</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-62554690883299535822016-07-06T19:56:00.002-07:002016-07-06T20:25:48.368-07:00Sailing from Mexico to Hilo, Hawaii<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xGQ51Rip6WE/V33DKSE9HQI/AAAAAAAACdw/k7afLTTwaJcJ-yZ6M0HNLLpIQEeHQ3lEwCLcB/s1600/squall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xGQ51Rip6WE/V33DKSE9HQI/AAAAAAAACdw/k7afLTTwaJcJ-yZ6M0HNLLpIQEeHQ3lEwCLcB/s640/squall.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A squall heads our way near sundown.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Time. You can cross an ocean going little more than five knots, it just takes time. For us in <i>Oceanus</i> it took just under 22 days to sail from San Jose del Cabo, Mexico, to Hilo, Hawaii -- 2731 nautical miles.<br />
<br />
We sailed through four time zones. Most of the time, in fact, we didn't know what time it actually was. It reminded me of the line in <i>Where the Wild Things Are</i> where Max sailed his boat "in and out of weeks and almost over a year." The clock on the wall in the salon read one time, the satellite clock reported another time, our InReach satellite texting device told another time and the Garmin GPS gave yet another time. To top it off, part way through the crossing the battery for the wall clock over our bunk slowly died adding to the confusion. I began to rely on sunrise and sunset to keep me oriented. The question prompted, what seemed like, hours of discussion between Virginia and me. But we had plenty of time. It wasn't until Hilo hove into view and we picked up a signal for our cell phone, when the issue was settled.<br />
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We left San Jose del Cabo on May 21 at about 2 p.m. Mountain Standard Time. Since arriving in California back in February, we traveled a surprising distance east in addition to our steady progress south. So far east, in fact, we added about five days to our ocean crossing. Leaving from San Francisco, the distance to Hawaii is about 2050 miles. Leaving from the tip of Mexico's Baja peninsula added more than 650 miles to the trip even though we were only two degrees of latitude north of Hilo.<br />
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Our course was due west and the winds blew out of the northwest putting <i>Oceanus</i> on a close reach for the first couple of days. The boat moved along well, but it heeled over about 15 degrees making life aboard difficult. Moving about usually took both hands and good timing. Sleeping meant making a nest of pillows on the lee side of the bunk and hoping the boat didn't pound too much in the large seas we encountered. Virginia described it as trying to sleep on a waterbed with a group of three-year-olds jumping on it while beating on pots and pans. I didn't think it was that bad, but I can sleep through almost anything.<br />
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It wasn't until day six, we were able to ease the sheets a bit. With the wind on our beam the heeling and pounding was less, but where were the glorious, downwind runs other sailors talk about who experienced the trade winds? Still, beam reaching has its advantages. We racked up some impressive noon-to-noon runs: 150, 157, and 153 nautical miles all with a reefed mainsail and genoa. Then, about day 13, the wind came from the east, northeast and dropped to seven or eight knots. We dropped the main, which was blanketing the genoa, poled out the genoa and raised our reaching staysail, sheeting it on the side opposite the genoa. With wind from the stern, our noon-to-noon milage dropped, but life aboard was much more comfortable.<br />
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During the whole voyage we saw only four ships and one other sailboat. We encountered the ships early on as we crossed the route from the Panama Canal to North American ports. We caught a glimpse of a sailboat at the edge of the horizon near the end of the voyage. Except for those encounters, we saw little more than sea and sky.<br />
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From on deck I can see about four miles in any direction to the horizon. This movable bubble of sight was our world. The sea teamed with flying fish. <i>Oceanus</i> startled large schools of them that would leap free of the water and fly above the wave tops. They were a constant source of entertainment. Each day I would pick up two or three that landed on our deck and died there. Only twice did one land in the cockpit so I could return it to the ocean before it died. In the sky, blue-footed boobies regularly visited us circling <i>Oceanus</i> looking for a place to land. Nothing suited them, and they let us know of their displeasure with squalks and baleful looks. There were shearwaters too, but not many other birds live the pelagic lifestyle required this far from land. Only once did dolphins visit us, but the pod of two or three dozen stayed with us for three hours, playing in our bow wave and breaching.<br />
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The sea and sky were our constant companions. No words can adequately describe the beauty of the tropical ocean. I never grow tired of looking at its deep sapphire blue with brilliant turquoise highlights that turns to black as the sun sets. Like the sea, the sky is always changing: the endless variety of cloud formations, the quality of light from each unique sunrise and sunset, and night skies filled with stars. The Milky Way looked like a river of light in the sky most nights. We also saw several meteors, sometimes two or three in a four-hour night watch. Mirroring the lights in the sky was the twinkling phosphorescence in the sea. The vikings called it Ran's jewels after the Norse goddess of the sea. And so it seemed to me -- lights glittering like jewels in the deep.<br />
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The wind never got much above 25 knots during the whole passage. Even the occasional squall that came our way didn't pack much of a punch. But the gusts were usually from another direction, throwing off our wind vane self-steering. Little rain accompanied the squalls either. We planned to catch rain. Lucky for us our 120 gallons of fresh water was more than adequate.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0x1N42BpmdA/V33Dys7kEyI/AAAAAAAACd4/o87fcQweiFENHEw-3dzH8Rne-41K2-0UgCLcB/s1600/Maid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0x1N42BpmdA/V33Dys7kEyI/AAAAAAAACd4/o87fcQweiFENHEw-3dzH8Rne-41K2-0UgCLcB/s400/Maid.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maid Marian, our Hydrovane self-steering gear worked great, we hardly had to touch the wheel.</td></tr>
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Our third crew member, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maid_Marian" target="_blank">Maid Marian</a>, our Hydrovane self steering, worked tirelessly keeping us on course for days at a time without needing any attention. Hydrovane is made in Nottingham, England, so she needed a name from the Robin Hood legend. She's an amazing piece of gear and doesn't complain or need much attention. When the winds were really light, say below three or four knots, she would take a break from her duties and we would hand steer.<br />
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Besides our VHF radio, which has a range of only several miles, we had a DeLorme InReach. It uses the satellite phone network to send and receive texts from nearly anyplace on earth. It also sends out a tracking ping every few minutes to update our position on their web site. This is our only long-range communication while at sea. We would occasionally send and receive texts from our family and one friend who kept an eye on the mid-ocean weather for us.<br />
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Virginia received a text about half way through the passage telling her that her dad died. He was not in good heath, but it was still tough on her. The funeral was six days before we made landfall. A few days after the funeral, and still about 300 miles from Hilo, I ask Virginia if I could get her anything. "Yes," she said. "Off this boat!" I wasn't sure how to respond, except to say she had to wait or she had a very long swim ahead of her.<br />
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With only a few days until our landfall, the focus of our discussions shifted from "What time is it really?" to "What do you want to do once we get to Hilo?" Not surprisingly, for those who know us, it was mostly about food. Specifically: Ice cream and donuts (Virginia); shave ice and fish and chips (Brandon). We both agreed it would be nice to sleep more than four hours in a row on a bunk that didn't bounce around.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4zbitrmDDiY/V33EOMAZd6I/AAAAAAAACd8/LGWWu7wDtFMMb21rFeqTwt-K0PWhmRuTQCLcB/s1600/Fatguy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4zbitrmDDiY/V33EOMAZd6I/AAAAAAAACd8/LGWWu7wDtFMMb21rFeqTwt-K0PWhmRuTQCLcB/s400/Fatguy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This sailor needs a shave and a shower.</td></tr>
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Things break on a long passage. That's just the way it is. They also always break -- always -- in the middle of the night. Our radar reflector chafed through the flag halyard and fell from spreader height at 1 a.m. It hit the deck right above my head when I was fast asleep. A few nights later a bolt came loose on the boom brake and again it hit the deck right above my head while I was fast asleep.<br />
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Some of the things that broke I could fix, but the alternator wasn't one of them. We discovered it wasn't charging the first time we ran our engine. We decide to run the engine once a week to make sure it was working and to fully charge up our battery banks. Our solar panels usually keep the batteries charged unless it's really hot, which taxes our refrigeration, or overcast during the day, which cuts the efficiency of the panels. When that happens, our over-sized alternator on the diesel engine keeps the batteries topped up. Without the help of the alternator, we turned everything off that we didn't absolutely need. We even turned the freezer off at night to conserve electrons.<br />
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By 1 a.m., June 10, we could see the lights of Hilo on the horizon. <i>Oceanus</i> charged along at 6.5 knots. We didn't want to enter the harbor in the dark, so I hove to for about three and a half hours, making about half a knot to the north away from Hilo. As the sky grew brighter I changed course back toward our goal, but by then the wind was light and fluky, coming directly from where we wanted to go. Our batteries were too low to start the engine and the overcast day wasn't helping. In desperation, I lashed our Honda 2000 portable generator to the deck, crossed my fingers, and fired it up.<br />
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We use the Honda as needed to top up our batteries while in calm anchorages. I wasn't sure it would work at all on the pitching deck while underway. But it worked like a champ, charging the batteries while Virginia and I fought to keep <i>Oceanus</i> moving in the light and unpredictable breeze. By noon the batteries were still low but we decided to try the engine. It cranked, but didn't catch. I tried again, still no love. One last time. Crank, crank, crank, sputter, crank, sputter, sputter, vrooom! Hilo and ice cream, here we come! It's about time.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jRnYlJT_VCc/V33Ehtu_t3I/AAAAAAAACeE/6YDPGsVOP9wZqqdWOsv08J9qxcV0ZEj5QCLcB/s1600/Reeds_Bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jRnYlJT_VCc/V33Ehtu_t3I/AAAAAAAACeE/6YDPGsVOP9wZqqdWOsv08J9qxcV0ZEj5QCLcB/s640/Reeds_Bay.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from Oceanus safely anchored in Reed's Bay, Hilo, Hawaii.</td></tr>
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<h3>
The Aquarium connection</h3>
The Oregon Coast Aquarium is following our adventure on their web site as part of the Oceanscape Network. If you would like to read more about our encounters with marine wildlife look <a href="http://oceanscape.aquarium.org/explore/general_articles/voyage-of-the-oceanus" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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If you want to track us go to share.delorme.com/virginiaford.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-82902474362749319392016-05-19T06:56:00.000-07:002016-05-19T06:56:23.595-07:00Adios Mexico, on to Hawaii<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0K9-hwl1hak/Vz3Dk7JtgsI/AAAAAAAACbo/enVp8FGiw7MhlL2_R0zX0Yrm5e0D4vnNACLcB/s1600/P5053833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0K9-hwl1hak/Vz3Dk7JtgsI/AAAAAAAACbo/enVp8FGiw7MhlL2_R0zX0Yrm5e0D4vnNACLcB/s640/P5053833.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our slip at Puerto los Cabos marina in San Jose del Cabo. The large sculpted cross puts on a light show every night.</td></tr>
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We've only been in Mexico a month, but it's already time to say adios. Hurricane season is about to start and it's already HOT! It's been in the high 90s F every day this week. My wife seriously can't take it. We're talking heat stroke and total misery.<br />
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So today we leave San Jose del Cabo, Mexico, for Hilo, Hawaii. We are excited and looking forward to seeing our friends in Hawaii and continuing to explore the underwater treasures of those magic isles, this time from our own boat.<br />
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We've enjoyed Mexico for the most part. One of the good/bad things is we rarely have internet. I have enjoyed the break, but it makes it tough to keep the blog updated.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vQVAbPFtb_E/Vz3EkXizi2I/AAAAAAAACb0/O5zh3g9G8W8JgomAoUXxNsgpVDDdHytCwCLcB/s1600/P5153944.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="468" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vQVAbPFtb_E/Vz3EkXizi2I/AAAAAAAACb0/O5zh3g9G8W8JgomAoUXxNsgpVDDdHytCwCLcB/s640/P5153944.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snorkeling at Bahi Los Frailes.</td></tr>
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The 10 days at anchor at Bahi Los Frailes was beautiful and it was there we decided to sail for Hawaii -- that was one week ago. We spent the last three days in San Jose del Cabo stocking our boat and getting her ready for three-to-four week trip to Hawaii. Just a few more items and we're off!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZOmn7XPnB6M/Vz3FGlMiHJI/AAAAAAAACb8/uF1fAylhYcwGBULx17gR8WpMQVUBv738ACLcB/s1600/P5133861.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZOmn7XPnB6M/Vz3FGlMiHJI/AAAAAAAACb8/uF1fAylhYcwGBULx17gR8WpMQVUBv738ACLcB/s640/P5133861.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oceanus at anchor at Bahi los Frailes.</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-21393896576403834412016-04-01T10:22:00.002-07:002016-04-07T03:06:28.461-07:00No crowds during California's winter<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HA68DYD4XwA/VvgcvseB2rI/AAAAAAAACZw/IRQU13X7J5QakC1OTCIWGEpJxo-z09pag/s1600/DSCN0762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HA68DYD4XwA/VvgcvseB2rI/AAAAAAAACZw/IRQU13X7J5QakC1OTCIWGEpJxo-z09pag/s640/DSCN0762.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Avalon on Catalina Island. The mooring field is starting to fill up for the weekend.</td></tr>
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Cruising California in the off season is the bomb. Every place we stop to anchor or tie up not only has room for us, but welcomes us -- sometimes with off-season rates. And the weather is about the same as the Northwest's best summer days; sunny, dry and mid-60s to 70s.<br />
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We were only going to stay in Santa Barbara for a couple of days but I caught a cold and we stayed a nearly a week with no problems. We've heard from other cruisers that during the summer, slips in Santa Barbara are hard to get and good luck trying to extend your stay. It is the city's only marina and in a wonderful location, so it's not hard to understand why slips are in demand.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r2VARauAddY/Vv6Z7j_sPZI/AAAAAAAACZ8/DPPl20-opK0QHiYjmrcWZZMZ_ypFKRLjg/s1600/P3033693.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r2VARauAddY/Vv6Z7j_sPZI/AAAAAAAACZ8/DPPl20-opK0QHiYjmrcWZZMZ_ypFKRLjg/s640/P3033693.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Virginia explores Pelican Bay on Santa Cruz Island. </td></tr>
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The couple who keep their boat in the slip next to us spoke glowingly about the beauties of Santa Cruz Island across the channel from Santa Barbara. They recommended we anchor at Pelican Bay, which is usually crowded during the summer months. We sailed across the channel and found only one other boat with which we had to share this idyllic anchorage.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aD2nfuYjx-s/Vv6bddbLgaI/AAAAAAAACaI/oNZ3SBCzumsCvC5pdnWhTcDmhrWj9dOqw/s1600/DSCN0739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aD2nfuYjx-s/Vv6bddbLgaI/AAAAAAAACaI/oNZ3SBCzumsCvC5pdnWhTcDmhrWj9dOqw/s640/DSCN0739.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful Santa Cruz Island.</td></tr>
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We were there for two nights when we heard a weather report of gale-force winds that would hit the island. So we sailed to King Harbor at Redondo Beach. No slips were available, but we spent the night on one of four mooring balls for transient yachts. We were the only boat at the mooring field and there were no boats in the anchorage inside the breakwater. This small marina is a gem, but we didn't have the time or inclination to explore it. Still feeling a little punky from my cold, I didn't want to unlash and launch the dinghy.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seabirds line the breakwater at sunset on the King Harbor breakwater.</td></tr>
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We wished someone had warned us about the mooring balls in California. I'm sure we were great entertainment for people onshore as we tried to figure out why this ball had a funny wand in the water and no way to tie to the top of the ball! The trick is to grab the wand, pull it up on deck and use the pendent attached to it to hoist up the mooring line to loop over the bow cleat. Then you follow another smaller line to a loop you then put on the stern cleat. Important safety tip: wear gloves.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Shoreline Village Marina in Long Beach. The harbor is also known as TransPac Harbor with signs detailing the history of that great yacht race.</span></td></tr>
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The next morning we sailed the short hop to Long Beach and the Shoreline Village Marina. This marina is right in the middle of restaurants, shops, walkways, parks and not far from from the Queen Mary and the Aquarium of The Pacific. (You can read about our visit to the aquarium <a href="http://oceanscape.aquarium.org/explore/general_articles/oceanus-crew-visits-the-aquarium-of-the-pacific" target="_blank">here</a>.) At night, twinkling lights lit up the businesses and structures in the nearby park. We felt like we were docked in the middle of Main Street Disneyland. We could even see a Ferris wheel from our boat.<br />
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We weathered a pretty good storm, with gale-force winds, rain and thunder and felt secure; the boat hardly moved. In the morning the marina was filled with garbage washed down the LA River into Long Beach Harbor. It was pretty grim. Most of it was reeds and branches, but much of it was plastic: water bottles, plastic sacks and wrappers of every description. Single-use plastic is evil. We stayed four nights and by the time we left most of the garbage was cleaned up.<br />
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We found the gas dock at marina next door was convenient place to fuel up. Their diesel price was the least expensive we've come across and the attendant was helpful and friendly. He told us stories about other cruisers he'd met including a family of four from France who set off for French Polynesia after buying fuel.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two Harbors on Catalina Island.</td></tr>
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Long Beach is right across the water from Catalina Island so we decided to spend a few days there. As a kid I always wanted to visit Catalina during our vacations to Southern California. Our good friend back in Newport, Chris, also insisted we not miss it.<br />
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"Don't go to Avalon" was a phrase we heard often while at Long Beach. "It's crowded, expensive and hard to get a mooring ball." So we decided to stay at Two Harbors. The mooring field at Two Harbors is lovely and deserted in the winter time. We spent two nights... two very rolly expensive nights. At $50 a night, it was more expensive than most marinas. We were glad to leave that harbor.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jxY3Ua2L9_0/Vv6g7sPvcPI/AAAAAAAACa4/sDIMsqKMNOIVyd4xgQoiYA8QglN6bKNqg/s1600/DSCN0758.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jxY3Ua2L9_0/Vv6g7sPvcPI/AAAAAAAACa4/sDIMsqKMNOIVyd4xgQoiYA8QglN6bKNqg/s640/DSCN0758.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oceanus moored in Avalon Harbor with the amazing Casino, which was never used for gambling.</td></tr>
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We sailed two hours to Avalon and paid the harbor patrol $84 for two nights. The harbor patrolman said, "our winter special is pay two nights and get the next five free." We like free so we stayed a week on Avalon and loved it. The mooring field was less than half full, it was quiet and we slept well every night. Best of all there is plenty to see and do.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5d57ogGWlGk/Vv6iuHpJykI/AAAAAAAACbI/FUM6CsVSrYQbWOs2sLhiWVmK5qRh89L4Q/s1600/DSCN0752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5d57ogGWlGk/Vv6iuHpJykI/AAAAAAAACbI/FUM6CsVSrYQbWOs2sLhiWVmK5qRh89L4Q/s640/DSCN0752.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The harborside of Avalon. In the background is the entrance to the walkway to the Casino and the Avalon Yacht Club.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
From our mooring we watched people walking along the shops and restaurants that front the harbor. Most of the brick-paved streets near the harbor are pedestrian only and most of the vehicles on the island are propane-powered golf carts. Up the hill from the harbor is a chime tower that struck the hours and each quarter hour from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. On one end of the harbor we could see the monumental Casino building built in the art deco style of the 1930s and at the other end we could watch the ferries come and go from the mainland.<br />
<br />
On shore we visited some of the shops, but we really had no interest in most of them. We have everything we could want. We did find a great Ace Hardware store packed with an astonishing selection of practical items. I finally found the perfect nozzle for our hose to replace the one we left on the dock at Newport. I've been looking for the right one in every port since we left. Best of all it cost only $3.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n7RU1O4XpGE/Vv6jkQjitWI/AAAAAAAACbU/VMqo_kGSvwgbsboMoqPAaJWXvJ3rTYsyA/s1600/0315161135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-n7RU1O4XpGE/Vv6jkQjitWI/AAAAAAAACbU/VMqo_kGSvwgbsboMoqPAaJWXvJ3rTYsyA/s400/0315161135.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The botanical gardens on Catalina Island.</td></tr>
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Each day we did something: visited the botanical gardens; went to the Tuesday night half-price movie so we could see the fantastic theater inside the Casino; rented a golf cart for an hour so we could tour around Avalon in style; walked to fill our propane bottle, and attended church in a meeting room in the U.S. Bank building. Part of the fun was rowing to and from the dinghy dock to get ashore and visiting with the other boaters along the way. The water was so clear we could see the bottom most of the time. We saw a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bat_ray" target="_blank">bat ray</a> and several bright orange <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garibaldi_(fish)" target="_blank">Garibaldi fish</a>. I spent an enjoyable afternoon snorkeling around the boat cleaning off the grunge from Long Beach Harbor and checking her bottom.<br />
<br />
Friday was the last night of our stay in Avalon and the little harbor filled up with yachts including several from a Southern California yacht club having their spring cruise. The main party boat was next door to <i>Oceanus</i> and at one time had eight dinghies tied up to it. The nice thing about yachties is that most of them are older and the party was all but over by 9:30 p.m.<br />
<br />
The next day we headed to Dana Point Marina for two days to visit friends. It's a beautiful marina. They were also very accommodating when we needed to change our reservation because we stayed longer than we planned at Avalon.<br />
<br />
Then it was on to San Diego. As we came close to the entrance to the bay we saw two islands... two Mexican islands!<br />
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7l3SisgmoWY/Vv6kRArDTyI/AAAAAAAACbc/P_9vMEdhVo0l5tIkzh8tWVhWJhS-D7N4g/s1600/P3243741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7l3SisgmoWY/Vv6kRArDTyI/AAAAAAAACbc/P_9vMEdhVo0l5tIkzh8tWVhWJhS-D7N4g/s640/P3243741.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oceanus was one of only three yachts tied up to the Police Dock in San Diego. During the fall this place is packed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-67484808396702489402016-03-02T09:30:00.002-08:002016-04-05T07:52:56.778-07:00Finally cruising, and loving it!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DZQR5sBRKvc/VtcehUinnEI/AAAAAAAACX4/MdWv6eu3k6Q/s1600/IMG_4123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DZQR5sBRKvc/VtcehUinnEI/AAAAAAAACX4/MdWv6eu3k6Q/s400/IMG_4123.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Virginia sailing south!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Waiting for a weather window paid off big time. Insted of making small hops down the coast, we were able to jump from winter to summer in just a few days. The stars aligned on Feb. 8 and Virginia and I left Newport and headed south.<br />
<br />
It was also a good time for our friend, Paul, to join us. Paul is an amazing mariner. As a young man he served in the U.S. Coast Guard, then he worked as a crab fisherman in Alaska, then sailed his own boat, a 38-foot Atkin Ingrid, down the West Coast to Mexico, Central America, through the Panama Canal, Caribbean, and up the East Coast. He was also a professional skipper and for about the last 10 years captained a research vessel in Alaska. He is now the owner of another Atkins masterpiece, a Valgerda, the <a href="http://valgerda.blogspot.com/2014/06/ravns-new-owners.html" target="_blank">19-foot faering that I built</a>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PjHFKT0k2CI/VtckV7oi2II/AAAAAAAACZE/I_i-0nJwM8g/s1600/P2123641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PjHFKT0k2CI/VtckV7oi2II/AAAAAAAACZE/I_i-0nJwM8g/s400/P2123641.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul at the helm of <i>Oceanus</i>.</td></tr>
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Having him aboard was a huge confidence booster for Virginia and me. It also made for a sweet watch schedule -- four on, eight off. We learned a lot from Paul and can't thank him enough for helping us sail south.<br />
<br />
The three of us decided Sunday (Feb. 7) that we would leave the next day. Paul arrived about 10 a.m. Monday and we started getting ready. Virginia heard the Coast Guard restrict the bar to 40 feet and under and called to us that we had to leave before they closed it all together. We cast off and headed for the entrance (or in our case, the exit) to Yaquina Bay. With picture-perfect breaking waves on either side of <i>Oceanus</i>, we were the last vessel to cross the bar before the Coast Guard closed it at 11:15 a.m.<br />
<br />
Once on the open ocean, however the seas were less threatening at about nine feet at 12 seconds or so, sunshine and the wind at our back. We motored through a minefield of crab pots. With Paul at the helm, Virginia watched for pots to starboard and I watched the port side. We headed southwest until we were in about 60 or 70 fathoms of water -- too deep for crab pots -- then we turned south.<br />
<br />
The wind was out of the southeast and light. We put up the mains'l and motorsailed, an effective strategy in our old CCA boat because as the boat heels over the water-line length increases, increasing the speed potential of the boat. For two days we motorsailed this way and averaged 7.5 knots.<br />
<br />
The first night was clear and not as cold as we expected. Far from any artificial lights, the stars shown bright. During my four-hour watch, which started at 2 a.m., I saw six meteors. I looked at the ocean and knew this was what I was meant to do.<br />
<br />
Around noon the next day we sailed into California waters as we crossed latitude 42. It also meant we didn't have to worry about crab pots anymore, since crabbing was closed in California.<br />
<br />
On our third day, the wind died and the swell dropped to its smallest of the voyage. With the calm came fog. We motored through it with a bubble of visibility that extended only 50 feet around us. A fur seal watched us pass as it reclined in the water with its flippers and head extended above the surface to save body heat. Paul, came on deck, grabbed the air horn from its pocket in the cockpit and headed to the foredeck to stand bow watch.<br />
<br />
The fog persisted into the night. During my early-morning watch I shut down the engine and ghosted through the fog under mains'l only at about one to two knots. With no engine noise I could use all my senses to guard against colision with another boat. While we don't have radar aboard Oceanus, we do receive AIS (automatic identification signals) from other vessels equipped with an AIS transponder. Most commercial vessels have them. I watched the screen and saw several signals around me. I also heard chatter between fishing boats on the VHF radio, most of it in Spanish.<br />
<br />
One of the fishing boats picked me up on their radar. The VHF crackled to life: "Sailing vessel heading south at North 38 degrees 23 minutes, what is your intention?"<br />
<br />
That was my heading and my approximate position so I answered. "This is sailing vessel <i>Oceanus</i>. We're making for Bodega Bay and don't have radar. Over."<br />
<br />
"I can see you on my radar. We will stay well south of you. Over."<br />
<br />
"Thanks." I said. "Out."<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YgTdFhf8q-U/VtcfJUmCY5I/AAAAAAAACYA/m95-r2zQbE0/s1600/0214161502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YgTdFhf8q-U/VtcfJUmCY5I/AAAAAAAACYA/m95-r2zQbE0/s400/0214161502.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bodega Bay, setting of Hitchcock's "The Birds."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In the morning the fog lifted and we motored toward Bodega Bay. It took most of the day partly because we kept 20 or 30 miles offshore, first to avoid the crab pots and then to stay well clear of rocky headlands.<br />
<br />
As we approached land we saw the swell breaking on the cliffs west of Bodega Bay and more breaking seas on a rocky reef guarding the entrance to the bay. We followed the bouys into the bay and tied up at the fuel dock. We were in California.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zQcitRKtA_k/VtcfunLEEDI/AAAAAAAACYI/SGeqPk9CA6g/s1600/IMG_4127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zQcitRKtA_k/VtcfunLEEDI/AAAAAAAACYI/SGeqPk9CA6g/s400/IMG_4127.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drake's Bay, the real one. Don't believe anyone who tells you Drake spent the winter in Oregon.</td></tr>
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We spent a day tied up in a slip at Spud Point Marina and then sailed to Drake's Bay just north of the entrance to San Francisco Bay. We anchored just after sunset and we were the only boat in the bay. We spent a night there listening to the wind howl in the rigging, but the water in the bay was calm. The morning was sunny calm and beautiful. What a magic place: elephant seals and birds on the beach and dairy cows grazing on the pastures above the cliff tops. I wish we stayed for a week, but we needed to push on.<br />
<br />
We decided to skip San Francisco because the Coast Guard reported 20-foot breaking seas across the entrance to the bay. As much as I wanted to sail Oceanus under the Golden Gate Bridge that dissuaded us. We headed to Half Moon Bay instead.<br />
<br />
It took about seven hours of hard sailing with 13-foot seas and 20-knot winds. One hour we covered 10 knots surfing at about 12 knots much of the time. What a great boat!<br />
<br />
We stayed in Half Moon Bay for two nights and then left for Monterey early in the morning so we could get there before dark. Two sea otters playing in the middle of our assigned slip served as a welcoming committee.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--s2VmwULv5E/VtcgoGTKofI/AAAAAAAACYY/lQt3zJKziXc/s1600/P2163660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="333" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--s2VmwULv5E/VtcgoGTKofI/AAAAAAAACYY/lQt3zJKziXc/s400/P2163660.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Virginia and I with Steinbeck, my favorite author.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Monterey was great fun. Sunny and warm most of the time although we did have wild wind, rain and thunder one night. Paul stayed aboard for a full day and played tourist with us, seeing Cannery Row, a museum and the house where Robert Lewis Stevenson stayed for a few months. The next day Paul jumped ship and caught a train back to Newport.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-emKPOCpwWnI/VtceDKunagI/AAAAAAAACX0/2R2FPtikGf8/s1600/0221161721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-emKPOCpwWnI/VtceDKunagI/AAAAAAAACX0/2R2FPtikGf8/s400/0221161721.jpg" width="355" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The fishing pier at San Simeon with Hearst Castle on the hill above.</td></tr>
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Virginia and I left Monterey Bay early morning on Feb. 21 headed to an anchorage in San Simeon Bay. We passed through a Sea Otter Refuge zone and much to our delight there they were! Otters were our near constant companion the entire way. At first glance they looked like a piece of drift wood floating along until we got close. Then we saw their fuzzy heads watching us. We anchored that night in San Simeon Bay where we could see the famous Hearst Castle high on the hill.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nS25G3S8xh8/VtciYtvf9JI/AAAAAAAACYw/n2l9oMeOsOM/s1600/P2223671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nS25G3S8xh8/VtciYtvf9JI/AAAAAAAACYw/n2l9oMeOsOM/s400/P2223671.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rock at Morro Bay.</td></tr>
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We left San Simeon the next morning. By early afternoon we entered Morro Bay, a tiny bay behind a huge, gnarly looking rock. We spent the most peaceful night of the voyage tied to a mooring ball at the Morro Bay Yacht Club.<br />
<br />
Once again we left just as it was getting light so we could round Point Conception before dark. This point marks the change from cold air and water of central California to the warm air and water of southern California. It also has the reputation of being the "Cape Horn of West Coast." Many boaters have their hat handed to them trying to round Point Conception. We were lucky and enjoyed a beautiful day and near perfect conditions. We rounded the point without any problems. In fact, it was so calm that Virginia went below and made lasagna, which we enjoyed after we anchored for the night in the Cojo Anchorage.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0fFjeaciyA/Vtci3p7HTCI/AAAAAAAACY0/Dm6ANi4Y9KI/s1600/P2233676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0fFjeaciyA/Vtci3p7HTCI/AAAAAAAACY0/Dm6ANi4Y9KI/s400/P2233676.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Point Conception from the Cojo anchorage.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The following day we raised anchor and headed south in WARM air. Instead of four layers underneath our foul-weather gear, we had on, first, sweatshirts and then switched to just t-shirts. Hundreds of Pacific white-sided dolphins passed the boat all day. The water was so clear and calm that we could watch them as they swam underwater next to the boat.<br />
<br />
We entered Santa Barbara Marina in the afternoon. We saw a smaller sailboat hard aground just outside the channel so I entered slowly and was careful to stay between the red and green markers. I watched my depth sounder go from 21 feet to 10 feet to 4 feet in less than 30 seconds and then we were hard aground right in the middle of the channel. I tried backing us off to no avail. All of a sudden a strong ebb current pushed us crossways to the channel and heeled the boat over about 40 degrees. The water was boiling around us. I went from annoyed to frightened. After about a minute I felt the boat slide off somewhat and right itself. I put her into reverse and was able to gently back off what must have been a hump of sand in mid-channel. I aimed for the center of the next two buoys and we entered the marina without further problems.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hR0sy2qj71E/VtchhdHHwoI/AAAAAAAACYk/laz5nn_6A_A/s1600/P2263687.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hR0sy2qj71E/VtchhdHHwoI/AAAAAAAACYk/laz5nn_6A_A/s400/P2263687.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The amazing Santa Barbara courthouse.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We spent a week in Santa Barbara. That's about five days longer than we intended, but we were tired and both caught a nasty little cold. Hey, we're cruising now, plans are made to be broken, right?<br />
<br />
<h3>
The Aquarium connection</h3>
The Oregon Coast Aquarium is following our adventure on their web site as part of the Oceanscape Network. If you would like to read more about our encounters with marine wildlife look <a href="http://oceanscape.aquarium.org/explore/general_articles/watching-wildlife-is-a-highlight-of-our-first-weeks" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
If you want to track us go to share.delorme.com/virginiaford.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-37051262216426362552016-01-29T11:42:00.001-08:002016-01-29T11:59:28.483-08:00Mast pulpits and propane aboard Oceanus<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-raWagIBQT2Q/Vqu8stFgJLI/AAAAAAAACWI/9QKwL1SRlXw/s1600/P1293625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-raWagIBQT2Q/Vqu8stFgJLI/AAAAAAAACWI/9QKwL1SRlXw/s640/P1293625.JPG" width="449" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Dickinson propane fireplace warms the boat up nicely on cold Northwet winter days.</td></tr>
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Few things make living aboard a boat in the Northwet more comfortable than a fireplace and a good galley stove and oven, especially in the winter. And few things make a trip to the mast safer than mast pulpits. On my boat the two are related.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MmDTSrIRGns/Vqu9SZ0jwbI/AAAAAAAACWQ/VcANHXNYTqo/s1600/P1293623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MmDTSrIRGns/Vqu9SZ0jwbI/AAAAAAAACWQ/VcANHXNYTqo/s400/P1293623.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The oven is large enough for Virginia to make three loaves of her great wheat bread.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The old stove that came with <i>Oceanus</i> ran on propane and looked dangerous. It was not hooked up. When we moved it sawdust and chunks of rust came out of every opening. The oven door had no window and, worse, no way to lock it closed.<br />
<br />
Another troubling thing was there was no evidence on <i>Oceanus</i> of a proper propane locker: one that was air tight except for the vent over the side as required by the American Boat and Yacht Council (ABYC) and every good marine surveyor.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yVB7uDEt2lw/VquDbB6--3I/AAAAAAAACVY/3pDMQYHkojY/s1600/P1233600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="472" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yVB7uDEt2lw/VquDbB6--3I/AAAAAAAACVY/3pDMQYHkojY/s640/P1233600.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The propane locker for Oceanus is a deck box.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My solution was to buy a deck box for <i>Oceanus</i> to use as a propane locker. I chose a Trident Marine L-P Gas 20-pound Dual Chest Locker, (part number 1502-0020). Generally I'm happy with it after I upgraded the regulator. Why they put a cheap, single-stage regulator on an item that cost one whole boat buck... well, it kinda ticks me off. The only other thing we did was put a backing plate on the latch. Those are the bad parts. Otherwise, the box is well made and stout, no oil-canning when I stand on top of it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cZylq4q5aRA/VquGGboqZrI/AAAAAAAACV8/AUx22KJZD90/s1600/P1233605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cZylq4q5aRA/VquGGboqZrI/AAAAAAAACV8/AUx22KJZD90/s400/P1233605.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The propane deckbox has room for smaller propane cylinders, windlass handle and other odds and ends in addition to the two 20-pound tanks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I located it a little in front of the mast and bolted it through the deck at each corner using 3/8-inch bolts with big fender washers. I used UHMW plastic shims about an inch thick and slightly tapered to lift it off the crown of the deck. I then used a large hole saw to cut a hole in the bottom and a smaller one to cut a hole through the deck for a plastic through hull. The through hull was big enough that I could fit two hoses -- one for the new Dickenson Newport fire place, the other for the new Dickenson Mediterranean stove and oven -- and a 14-2 wire for the solenoid.<br />
<br />
Here's how the propane box and the mast pulpits relate. I bolted one leg of my mast pulpits to the port and starboard sides of the deck box with good backing timbers and fender washers. The mast pulpits each have four legs, so that saved me eight holes in my deck.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sSjrtXq4V2Y/VquD5S91v3I/AAAAAAAACVg/YtaEWjSh-8o/s1600/P1233604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sSjrtXq4V2Y/VquD5S91v3I/AAAAAAAACVg/YtaEWjSh-8o/s640/P1233604.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mast pulpits (granny bars) are harder to find than you would expect.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I feel lucky to have these mast pulpits (granny bars). We spent a lot of time looking for mast pulpits for <i>Oceanus</i>. I could find nothing on-line. We regularly checked places like Minnie's and Columbia Marine Exchange for used ones. We even contacted a couple of stainless steel fabricators, but none of them wanted the job.<br />
<br />
Then, as I helped a dockmate with a project aboard his boat, I spotted eight stainless steel flanges bolted to his deck. I asked him what they were. "Oh, those go to some mast pulpits that were just too big for the boat," he said. "I took them off because they were always in the way."<br />
<br />
He was right, they were too big for his 33-foot boat, but they are perfect for my 43-foot boat. It must be something like, "when the student is ready, the teacher shall appear." When you look long enough and are desperate enough, you will find what you are looking for.<br />
<br />
When my dockmate retrieved them from his garage and brought them to the boat I couldn't believe my good luck: they were the most beautiful mast pulpits I ever saw. They had a gentle arc, four feet and a teak pin rail with four belaying pins on each pulpit. The pin rail looks nice and is handy. The mast pulpits also provide a great place to secure the eight polyethylene jerry jugs we carry aboard for fuel and water.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_JiY-jL3PH8/VquEdbTMG-I/AAAAAAAACVo/Ccawx1HTO7s/s1600/P1253610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_JiY-jL3PH8/VquEdbTMG-I/AAAAAAAACVo/Ccawx1HTO7s/s640/P1253610.JPG" width="408" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The deck box makes putting on the mains'l cover easy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The mast pulpits and deck box make working around the mast easier and much more secure. The deck box is a great place to sit and admire the view or to stand on to reach the top of the mains'l when putting on its cover.<br />
<br />
Back to propane. Once the deck box was in place with a way into the boat for the hoses and wires the rest was pretty easy. I got some help from my local RV place to tee off the line after the regulator so I could run a hose for both appliances. The tee must be made in the box because ABYC allows no connections inside the boat except to the appliance. Then it was just a matter of running the hoses for the fireplace and the galley stove and connecting the electronic shut off to power the solenoid in the box.<br />
<br />
Everything worked well on the first try, except the flow seemed anemic. After looking at the cheap regulator that came with the deck box and comparing it with the ones at the RV place, I figured it must be under sized. Another $35 into the project for a two-stage regulator was chump change. The bigger regulator did the trick.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RF1wnAS8tVQ/Vqu92AHfBII/AAAAAAAACWY/MDfqZQlBXCg/s1600/P1293628.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RF1wnAS8tVQ/Vqu92AHfBII/AAAAAAAACWY/MDfqZQlBXCg/s400/P1293628.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can't remember the name and can't find the documentation for it. I remember it's made in Canada.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After doing all you can do to keep propane only where it should be, you still need a bilge sniffer. This warns you if propane is leaking into your bilge and pooling there waiting to blow you and your boat to kingdom come. We found this nice unit that's made in Canada.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aU4bdQYgqLs/VquFtg0X-WI/AAAAAAAACV0/c72BsDxVgtY/s1600/P1253606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aU4bdQYgqLs/VquFtg0X-WI/AAAAAAAACV0/c72BsDxVgtY/s320/P1253606.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A hand-held sniffer is essential.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We also bought a portable combustible gas sniffer to check all connections. Soap suds just doesn't cut it.<br />
<br />
For more tips on staying safe with propane here's <a href="https://www.morganscloud.com/2015/08/16/ten-ways-to-make-propane-safer/" target="_blank">10 tips</a> from the good folks at Attainable Adventure Cruising.<br />
<br />
On previous boats we had an alcohol stove and a kerosene stove. Virginia was not a fan of either of those fuels. If we were not planning to sail south we might have considered a diesel stove. We are well aware of the potential for explosion from propane, but if you like to cook on board, propane is the best option.<br />
<h3>
Weather Window Update</h3>
We are still waiting for a weather window to open so we can head south. Here are some photos of waves crashing on the rocks in front of a friend's house in Depoe Bay, Ore., this week. Maybe next week....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jMR0avNYYkk/VqvAIVnoIzI/AAAAAAAACWk/9zG0DxdVJ6w/s1600/P1223591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jMR0avNYYkk/VqvAIVnoIzI/AAAAAAAACWk/9zG0DxdVJ6w/s640/P1223591.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This wave hit the base of a 40-foot cliff and shot about 80 feet into the air.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-87511306522653693062016-01-11T09:29:00.000-08:002016-01-13T07:23:39.676-08:00Waiting for a window south<div id="yiv3338887189yui_3_16_0_1_1445349199802_8059" style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3aSvZ3JfMnY/VpPP1pMSR0I/AAAAAAAACUc/mMeKD3Xb8gk/s1600/P1083576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3aSvZ3JfMnY/VpPP1pMSR0I/AAAAAAAACUc/mMeKD3Xb8gk/s640/P1083576.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Virginia checks our position on her iPad during one of our weekly shake-down sails.</td></tr>
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<span id="yiv3338887189yui_3_16_0_1_1445349199802_8058">Finally, after more than three years of hard work, <i>Oceanus</i> is ready for sea. The problem is it's now winter. This time of year weather windows that will allow us to sail south from our home port of Newport, Ore., are few and far between.</span></div>
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<br />
During December, storm after storm with gale-force winds and waves 15 to 20 feet pummeled the Oregon coast. For a few days in mid December the waves reached 40 feet and sent mounds of sea foam filling beach parking lots and the yards of beach homes. It looked like dirty snow, prompting locals to joke about the sea providing a white Christmas on the Oregon coast.<br />
<br />
Newport also got a record amount of rain in December, more than 19 inches.<br />
<br />
We started keeping a log. Virginia's periodic entries are telling:<br />
"Dec. 3, 2015 - Still here."<br />
"Dec. 9 - Haven't left yet, too many storms."<br />
"Dec 18 - Still here. Crew getting restless."<br />
"Dec. 24 - Christmas eve in Newport, Ore., was supposed to be Mexico or Newport, Calif. I see a mutiny soon if we don't leave."<br />
<br />
We are not discouraged, however. Last winter, as we continued to work on the boat, we watched and there were several times the seas were relatively calm and the wind out of the north or west. We are hoping for three or four days of good sailing weather to get us to California.<br />
<br />
Every morning we check passageweather.com looking for a few days of good sailing conditions. We're hoping for seas below 10 feet with a fairly long period, say 15 seconds. It happens this time of year, just not very often. We got our hopes up for three days around Jan. 31. The forecast called for seas of around six feet and east winds. But winds turned into a gale out of the east with the thermometer dropping into the 20s at night. No thanks!
<br />
<br />
Of all the miles we plan to travel on our two-year sabbatical, the first 400 miles along the Oregon and northern California coast are the most scary to me. Many experienced world cruisers have had their hat handed to them along this stretch of the West Coast.<br />
<br />
<i>Oceanus</i> and us are still largely untested in the ocean as well, so we try to go sailing at least once a week. With each day sail we discover something new about the boat, a better lead on the genoa sheet or something else we need to tweak.<br />
<br />
We are also getting better at answering the question "Haven't you left yet?" or "When are you leaving?" This is particularly galling to Virginia.<br />
<br />
"The next person who asks me that I'm going to poke in the eye," she fumed on more than one occasion.<br />
<br />
Of course the people who have experience cruising never ask. "Schedules will kill you," said our friend Ted, who cruised in Mexico for two years and made several trips from there to Oregon.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qb1610Py8MM/VpPREDWlHsI/AAAAAAAACUw/i2kEmmLCQbc/s1600/P1083577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qb1610Py8MM/VpPREDWlHsI/AAAAAAAACUw/i2kEmmLCQbc/s640/P1083577.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our friend Paul joins us for a sail. He is a great guy and a very experienced captain.</td></tr>
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They also council patience. "You're already cruising," said Paul, another of our experienced voyaging friends. "You're living the life. Enjoy it."<br />
<br />
And we do, I keep working on boat projects and Virginia helps with boat maintenance. She also started knitting a sweater for our daughter-in-law. Most of all we enjoy just being together.<br />
<br />
In November we sold our small pickup. Not having a vehicle makes getting mail and groceries more difficult, but it also gets us out walking more. No vehicle also means no car insurance payments or vehicle tax bills.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uus3FQbdLLA/VpPSTUp1IlI/AAAAAAAACU8/tVwzS95EDcM/s1600/Christmas2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uus3FQbdLLA/VpPSTUp1IlI/AAAAAAAACU8/tVwzS95EDcM/s640/Christmas2015.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our "fake Christmas" on the weekend before Christmas at our daughter's new home. All kids and grand kids minus two who couldn't make it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The week before Christmas we hitched a ride with friends going to the Seattle area so we could visit our kids and grandkids for a few days. We had a great time. We enjoyed the train ride back too, and the bus from the Willamette valley to get back to Newport wasn't bad either. But it did turn what would have been a five-hour drive into a full day adventure. It made us appreciate how easy we had it.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OFaGOAH1XRo/VpPQnM1WFWI/AAAAAAAACUo/rEk5ntdjaV4/s1600/PC053106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="295" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OFaGOAH1XRo/VpPQnM1WFWI/AAAAAAAACUo/rEk5ntdjaV4/s400/PC053106.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our 97-cent Nativity scene aboard <i>Oceanus</i>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Christmas on the boat was fun and peaceful. We did our favorite holiday things: watching the movie "It's a Wonderful Life" and listening to corny old renditions of Christmas carols. We didn't worry about pleasing anyone but ourselves. That sounds selfish, especially during Christmas, but it was liberating and eye opening. Virginia missed going to stores to shop -- she did most of it online. I felt I escaped the commercial side of the holiday and focused just on what was meaningful and fun to me. It was one of my favorite Christmas's ever.<br />
<br />
Winter on the Oregon coast, while it has its own beauty, is not what we signed up for. We both dream of sunshine and diving off the boat into warm clear water. We figure we have enough money for two years if we stick to a budget. The clock is now ticking, so we watch and wait for a weather window to sail south.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-5099921879937498982015-10-24T09:58:00.002-07:002015-10-24T10:09:13.833-07:00Creative anchor and chain installation<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aX7AU_qn29E/ViucDGnjWjI/AAAAAAAACSI/oUumownX1qY/s1600/PA163506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aX7AU_qn29E/ViucDGnjWjI/AAAAAAAACSI/oUumownX1qY/s640/PA163506.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oceanus with her new Lofrans Tigress windlass, Rocna 25 (kg) anchor and chain. Goodlander would take issue with me using the cleat on top of the windlass (too much wracking) to take the strain off the chain, but I wanted to try it out. When not at the dock, I'll using the mooring cleat.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For more than a year I struggled with exactly how I would install my anchor and chain aboard <i>Oceanus</i>, my 45-year-old Columbia 43. The boat had an old manual windlass, a 45-pound CQR anchor and a chain and rope rode. It was all questionable. We wanted to cruise far and sleep well at anchor, so I knew I needed to upgrade everything.<br />
<br />
Piece by piece I chose the elements of the anchoring system: a Lofrans Tigress windlass, a Rocna 25 (55-pound) anchor, 300 feet of 5/16th G4 high-test chain connected with a load-rated hot-dip galvanized shackle. These choices were heavily influenced by the anchoring advice from the folks at <a href="http://www.morganscloud.com/" target="_blank">Morgan's Cloud</a>, <i>Attainable Adventure Cruising</i> web site. Their <a href="https://www.morganscloud.com/series/anchoring-made-easy/" target="_blank">on-line anchoring book</a> very convincing lays out what anchors to buy (Spade or Rocna) and how to choose chain. They also go in to great detail about shackles: what to buy (a load-rated galvie shackle) and what to never buy (stainless steel swivels). Their experience with decades of high-latitude cruising and anchoring under challenging conditions together with their no BS approach made them my go-to source for anchoring equipment advice.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U0nPVPeebxQ/ViudGXxYSBI/AAAAAAAACSU/8TzcjGKMbJE/s1600/PA163499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U0nPVPeebxQ/ViudGXxYSBI/AAAAAAAACSU/8TzcjGKMbJE/s640/PA163499.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The choice of the Lofrans Tigress windlass and the Rocna was relative easy, figuring out the other elements of the anchoring system and how to put it all together took some time.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I went back and forth on how much chain I needed -- 200 feet spliced to a nylon rode or 300 feet of all chain. I wanted 300 feet, but I was concerned about that much weight in the bow. Then this summer we got a <a href="http://hagothlog.blogspot.com/2015/08/a-visit-from-flying-sideways.html" target="_blank">visit</a> from our friends, Karin and Joe aboard <i><a href="http://flyinsideways.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Flying Sideways</a></i>, another Columbia 43. For the last three years they cruised their boat from San Diego to Mexico and the Pacific Side of Central America. They said the boat would handle the weight of 300-feet of chain fine. They also said I would need that much.<br />
<br />
So when I bought a copy of <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Creative-Anchoring-Everything-About-Anchors/dp/1449922155/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1427176387&sr=1-2&keywords=creative+anchoring" target="_blank">Creative Anchoring</a></i>, the new book from <a href="http://www.fattygoodlander.com/" target="_blank">Capt'n Fatty Goodlander</a>, I was delighted to learn that the anchor, windless, amount of chain, everything, right down to the shackle, that Capt'n Fatty had aboard his 43-foot, 30,000-pound ketch <i>Ganish</i>, was exactly what I bought for <i>Oceanus</i>. The only difference was that he had 3/8ths G4 chain, whereas I had 5/16ths G4. But his boat is bigger by 8,000 pounds and is ketch-rigged, so it is heavier and has more windage than my boat.<br />
<br />
The book, like all of Capt'n Fatty's writing, is funny and entertaining. Better yet, he explains in detail how he rigged and marked his chain and a step-by-step explanation about how he and his wife, Carolyn, deploy and retrieve the anchor. Just what I was looking for.<br />
<br />
Virginia and I started putting together our anchoring system. I drilled holes in the deck where our manual windlass was. After removing as much of the balsa wood core as I could reach with a bent nail in a hand drill, I taped up the bottom of the holes and filled them with epoxy thickened with cabosil to about the consistency of honey. This protects the balsa wood core even if the fitting leaks.<br />
<br />
The next day I redrilled the holes and ran the bolts through. Virginia, chief electrician aboard <i>Oceanus</i>, mapped out where to run the wire for our windlass. Then we worked backwards with a hole saw along the path the wire would take back to the battery bank in the saloon. It ran under shelves and through lockers in the forepeak, our stateroom and the head until we reached the bathtub.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BYJrZ02TYXQ/ViuyRTvU0KI/AAAAAAAACTs/8ywVJjZTJqc/s1600/P9153450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BYJrZ02TYXQ/ViuyRTvU0KI/AAAAAAAACTs/8ywVJjZTJqc/s400/P9153450.JPG" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old technology saves the day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The tub has a seat. Under the seat is filled with foam insulation. I needed to drill through the insulation to the plywood bulkhead and into the battery box underneath the forward settee in the saloon. I was nervous about doing this because I could inadvertently drill a hole in our tub. Virginia would hurt me bad if I did that. So, I used a long bit on an extension in my old Stanley brace and went from the head side where I knew where the sides of the tub were. It worked like a charm and was kinda fun too.<br />
<br />
With the pathway to the battery box established, we used a flexible 100-foot tape to measure precisely how much wire we would need. We even used masking tape to hold the measuring tape in place to get a good measurement. The two runs of double ought tinned wire is expensive and we didn't want to buy more than we were going to use.<br />
<br />
Don't cheap out on the wire. Undersized wire causes voltage drops that hurts the performance of your windlass and can cause heat buildup in the windlass and the wire. The wire can get hot enough to cause a fire aboard. Goodlander has some scary stories about this in his book. The cable we used is as big around as your thumb.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UXSW5EbxiuQ/Vium2dpxT9I/AAAAAAAACTI/NRFd17WLki4/s1600/PA243518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UXSW5EbxiuQ/Vium2dpxT9I/AAAAAAAACTI/NRFd17WLki4/s640/PA243518.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The windlass cables start their journey from the battery box to the chain locker. Note the 100-amp breaker in the positive (red) cable.</td></tr>
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We ran the wire and put a 100 amp breaker in the positive (red) wire inside the battery box. This is important to protect the big wire. It's also a handy way to cut the power to the windlass so no one can run the windlass from the deck switches while you're away from your boat. We got a lot of help from Mike and Vince at our local Englund Marine store with the details of the installation. Englund's also loaned us the big $600 pair of crimpers to attach the lugs to the monster wire.<br />
<br />
The installation looked perfect. With excitement and trepidation Virginia stepped on one deck switch: nothing. Then the other deck switch: also nothing. The deck switches feed into a control box that contains two solenoids, one for the up and one for down. Using a chunk of battery cable and bypassing the control box we determine that the winch and the switches were working fine. The control box was defective.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VzgSxUgcH_U/ViuoC0kfBPI/AAAAAAAACTc/crVwNTsc7KE/s1600/PA243516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VzgSxUgcH_U/ViuoC0kfBPI/AAAAAAAACTc/crVwNTsc7KE/s640/PA243516.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The new control box in a high locker just outside the chain locker. We made no connections inside the chain locker where they could get wet. The control box is a replacement. The original was defective from the factory.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I wish I could tell you that Imtra, the company that imports Lofrans windlasses to the US from Italy, was super accommodating when we called. Alas, it took my sweet wife lots of convincing to get them to agree to send us a new control box and pay for shipping. (She wisely wouldn't let her hot-head husband negotiate with the Imtra rep.)<br />
<br />
The new control box from Imtra arrived a week later. It took a few minutes to switch it out and the windlass worked like a champ. It's frustrating to spend so much money on equipment, spend a lot of time and more money on installation and then have a high percentage of the pricey gear not work the first time. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-afI85STwFnw/ViufznewCLI/AAAAAAAACSw/LtAmi5XiHCk/s1600/PA163502.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-afI85STwFnw/ViufznewCLI/AAAAAAAACSw/LtAmi5XiHCk/s640/PA163502.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me demonstrating poor lifting technique. You can see some of the cable ties marking the chain lengths.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
With the windlass installed, it was time to load the chain and anchor aboard. I waited until high tide before bringing the chain down the ramp to our dock in a wheelbarrow. We laid the chain out on the dock so we could measure and mark it.<br />
<br />
Goodlander marks his chain every 50 feet with nylon cable ties, as many as will fit on one link. That's about five or six in our case. At 50 feet we bristled up one link, at a hundred we did two links separated by three links, at 150 we three links separated by three links, and so on. Goodlander said marking the chain every 50 feet is a compromise between knowing too much and knowing too little. That made sense to me.<br />
<br />
Virginia had the idea to spray paint a mark in between, so we can get a little finer detail on how much chain is out. We used some white appliance paint to mark three links every 25 feet, if it wasn't already marked with the cable ties. The advantage of the cable ties is that even if your chain is real muddy, you can still see them. The painted links in between might be obscured with mud, but most of the time we should see the mark.<br />
<br />
Considering how close the tolerance is between the chain and the gypsy head on the windlass, it's surprising that all the cable ties don't gum up the works. But I could detect no change as the bristly links came aboard. According to Goodlander, the cable ties last a long time too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UNkv-FBm6EY/ViueQBWjC6I/AAAAAAAACSg/ptI_EstVYos/s1600/PA163498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UNkv-FBm6EY/ViueQBWjC6I/AAAAAAAACSg/ptI_EstVYos/s640/PA163498.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The new U bolt installed in the chain locker along with some Dry Deck to allow the chain to stay drier.</td></tr>
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Before we loaded the chain aboard, we installed a heavy U bolt in a re-enforced section of the chain locker's bulkhead. This is to tie a length of rope onto the end of the chain, well, nearly the end. Goodlander suggests tying the rope five links from the end so you can shackle on more chain or rope to increase the length of your rode, should you need to. The rope tied to the U bolt can take the strain temporarily while I shackle additional rode onto the end of my 300 feet of chain.<br />
<br />
The chain is not shackled to the U bolt for another reason: in an emergency I may need to divorce the chain from my boat. With a length of rope, just long enough to clear the chain gypsy, I can cut it free if I need to and retrieve it later.<br />
<br />
I also put four squares of Dry Deck in the chain locker to keep the chain off the bottom and allow some air to circulate to keep the chain drier. This was another suggestion from Goodlander's book.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MXyy3ScL8VM/ViufGwnAoiI/AAAAAAAACSo/9AVNYrrsEgI/s1600/PA163507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MXyy3ScL8VM/ViufGwnAoiI/AAAAAAAACSo/9AVNYrrsEgI/s640/PA163507.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I will need to add a stainless steel kick plate to the bow of Oceanus to protect it from the anchor.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We used the windlass to load the chain on the boat. A few feet before the anchor came aboard we added a link's worth of cable ties to warn the windlass operator to slow down and ease the anchor aboard.<br />
<br />
<i>Oceanus</i> has a deep chain locker. The chain drops about six feet before it starts to pile up. This is good to keep the chain from hockling. Shallow chain lockers, so common on newer boats, have a problem with this. I don't anticipate we will.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0wZzfcDW6s/ViumLiRT7DI/AAAAAAAACTA/CrUx0nok-_U/s1600/PA163514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y0wZzfcDW6s/ViumLiRT7DI/AAAAAAAACTA/CrUx0nok-_U/s640/PA163514.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oceanus's deep chain locker.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I really enjoyed reading <i>Creative Anchoring</i> and I learned a lot. Great stories, good and bad examples and loads of Goodlander's opinions informed by more than half a century of living afloat. The details in the book was just what I needed to finally put together my anchoring system.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-17514836031646355992015-10-01T10:27:00.002-07:002015-10-01T21:01:34.886-07:00Changing throttle and shift cables<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L9YfdkOdb8g/Vg07x1zNtPI/AAAAAAAACRY/36yEeYQkduw/s1600/P9213457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L9YfdkOdb8g/Vg07x1zNtPI/AAAAAAAACRY/36yEeYQkduw/s640/P9213457.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry works on the binnacle of Oceanus to replace the shift cables.</td></tr>
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Among all the projects aboard <i>Oceanus,</i> changing the shift and throttle cables was not even on my radar.<br />
<br />
I've been reading sailing magazines since I was a kid and I can't remember a single article about changing them. Like most things on a boat, you only replace them if it's a problem, right? But Henry, my diesel mechanic and friend, insists they should be changed every seven years. More often if you don't use your boat much.<br />
<br />
The thing about shift and throttle cables is the problems creep up slowly. The cables, which run from the helm to the transmission and fuel-injector pump on the diesel, gradually get stiffer and harder to move until they freeze up all together or break; possibly -- no probably -- at a critical moment. A broken or frozen cable would leave you unable to shift or control your throttle.<br />
<br />
Henry was suspicious of my cables from the get go. "When was the last time these were changed?" he asked, pinning me with his piercing blue eyes. Without waiting for an answer he said, "I bet it's been more than 20 years." My guess was that it was even longer than that, but I didn't say anything, I just shrugged.<br />
<br />
Henry's diagnosis was confirmed when he drove the boat. "These are way too stiff," he said. "And the chain for your wheel needs oiling too."<br />
<br />
I hoped this would be a simple job. Just take the old cables out and put the new ones in. What could go wrong?<br />
<br />
Everything. OK, that's a bit of an exaggeration. All six of the bolts we needed to remove to take apart Oceanus's helm were frozen. Henry managed to remove three of them without breaking them off, but it was an hours-long struggle. The remaining three finally broke off and had to be drilled out.<br />
<br />
An hour and a half job became a day and a half job. All because who ever put the six bolts in last never coated them with anything to prevent them from freezing in place. That person was not Henry, who coats every bolt he puts in a boat with Never Seize.<br />
<br />
"Years from now when someone takes these apart they will thank me," he said. And be amazed something actually comes apart easily, I thought.<br />
<br />
To get at things better, we removed the stainless steel tubing that supports the helm and took off the old teak piece that connected the two. The teak was already the worst-looking piece of wood on the boat and taking it off didn't help its looks any; a big chip broke lose as we were removing the U-shaped stainless tubing that serves as a handhold.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vzvX08rpwM8/Vg09mZvhxMI/AAAAAAAACRg/wuAZZdCIm_o/s1600/P9213458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vzvX08rpwM8/Vg09mZvhxMI/AAAAAAAACRg/wuAZZdCIm_o/s640/P9213458.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The old wood piece that helps tie everything together at the helm station was the worst-look piece of teak on the boat.</td></tr>
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After Henry left that evening of the first day of screw removal, Virginia polished the stainless steel handhold and I went to my stash of teak pieces and found one to make a replacement for the connector piece. Using the old one as a pattern, it only took me a couple of hours with a jig saw, drill, hand plane and sander to make a replacement. When Henry returned the next morning he approved.<br />
<br />
Henry spent the better part of the second day removing the old screws from the binnacle. He then ran a tap through all the holes to clean up the threads. Finally, he could replace the cables.<br />
<br />
He helped me attach our teak cockpit table to the new teak replacement piece I made. Then we put the binnacle back together.<br />
<br />
Before he left to head back to his home and business in Salem, he offered to take the throttle and shift levers home to spruce them up. They are original to the boat. Forty-five years of use, abuse, saltwater and neglect took a toll on the nickle plating; it was about half gone and both levers were corroded. Henry said he would glass bead the levers and polish up the bronze on his buffer. He also assigned me a list of tasks to complete before he returned, including oiling the chain and other moving parts of the steering system.<br />
<br />
The next weekend Henry returned with the levers. Not only were they now beautifully polished bronze with all the nickle plating removed, but he painted the background on the cast lettering that says "Fuel" on one and "Shift" on the other. A very nice touch.Thanks Henry!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B2_YLY7vdcw/Vg1spKGPaoI/AAAAAAAACRw/Vh0gHMHfy_Y/s1600/PA013492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B2_YLY7vdcw/Vg1spKGPaoI/AAAAAAAACRw/Vh0gHMHfy_Y/s640/PA013492.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The polished bronze looks nice with the new teak.</td></tr>
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The new cables make a huge difference in the feel and response when driving Oceanus. Best of all, I don't worry about them failing, at least for another seven years or so.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-15532471986990140692015-09-16T08:40:00.000-07:002015-09-16T08:40:23.759-07:00From The Pit of Despair to the Valley of Hope<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_vvqJbQ0qfg/Vfl8wZCAEZI/AAAAAAAACQs/hDicFAUeP1E/s1600/P9143445.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="468" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_vvqJbQ0qfg/Vfl8wZCAEZI/AAAAAAAACQs/hDicFAUeP1E/s640/P9143445.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry in his natural element.</td></tr>
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For months I've been making almost daily forays into The Pit of Despair, a.k.a. the engine room on <i>Oceanus</i>.<br />
<br />
Just before we bought <i>Oceanus</i> three years ago Jason, the previous owner, pulled the Perkins 4-108 and rebuilt it. He fired up the engine before we purchased the boat and it ran great. The fuel lines from the engine were stuffed into a five-gallon jug of diesel fuel and there were a few more things that needed finishing up, but the big job was done. Finishing up the rest of the install would be, well, maybe not easy, but something I could do. Or so I thought.<br />
<br />
Actually I didn't think about it much. For the first two years we owned the boat my wife and I focused on the fun stuff; finishing the interior of the boat and painting the outside. These were things we knew how to do.<br />
<br />
But I had the nagging sensation that I should get things done in the engine room. Here's a partial list of what needed doing: replace prop with correct one, replace raw water pump (the old one leaked around the shaft), rebuild spare fuel-injection pump and replace the one on the engine (it had a fuel leak around the throttle shaft), make new instrument panel, install new fuel tanks, run new fuel lines, install new fuel-tank vents and run vent lines, install secondary fuel filter, replace/upgrade alternator, mount oil filter and raw-water strainer... the list went on.<br />
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Before our haul out last year, Jason helped replace the raw-water pump and, with the help of Lance the diver and Jason again, we replaced the prop. That was enough to get the boat safely up the Yaquina River 11 miles to the boatyard and back, but it still left a lot that needed doing.<br />
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I thought Jason would be around to coach me on work in the engine room, but (good for him -- sad for me) he moved to Hawaii last fall.<br />
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Last winter and spring (we only have two days of summer on the Oregon Coast, which I took off) I worked at finishing up the interior, installing plumbing (another hated job) and cutting down the engine room to-do list. With the latter I got good advice from Henry, a marine engine mechanic from Salem who spends every weekend working on his 50-foot 1950 Stevens motor yacht. He would drop into the engine room and tell me what I was doing wrong and I would change it. (I moved my secondary fuel filter three times.)<br />
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Each day I climbed down the hatch my discouragement grew until I began calling the engine room The Pit of Despair. With time running short and faced with some daunting tasks, like changing out the fuel-injection pump, I cried uncle. I was in over my head and I knew it. It took some persuading, including my wife talking to Henry's wife, Kelly, but we finally got a commitment from Henry to help me.<br />
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Over the last couple of weekends, he finished most of my list and found several other problems that needed fixing. One was rebuilding the starter, which he took back to his shop and brought back the next weekend. The difference was nothing short of amazing.<br />
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Between weekend visits Henry would give me assignments as he found more things that needed doing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ANhPQtMLpeo/Vfl9J3szExI/AAAAAAAACQ0/Aotg1aQoL1c/s1600/P9143448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="582" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ANhPQtMLpeo/Vfl9J3szExI/AAAAAAAACQ0/Aotg1aQoL1c/s640/P9143448.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry measures for new cables.</td></tr>
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Henry spent one long day changing the fuel-injection pump. The old fuel-injection pump leaked fuel from the throttle shaft. It took Henry until late evening to install the newly-rebuilt pump, but we couldn't get the engine started. The hour was late and Henry needed to leave to go to his home and business in Salem the next morning. "Don't worry," Henry said, "the engine kicks over the first time on only about 20 percent of fuel injection pump installs."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sPDxrxXLy6E/VfmKY600snI/AAAAAAAACRE/qXpTJRp0WsY/s1600/P9163452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="323" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sPDxrxXLy6E/VfmKY600snI/AAAAAAAACRE/qXpTJRp0WsY/s400/P9163452.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I made the new instrument panel, but Henry finished wiring it.</td></tr>
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But worry I did. I would wake in the middle of the night worrying. When Saturday came I hoped Henry would have time to work on my engine, but he had another job that needed doing. Saturday evening he came by the boat and dropped off some tools and a battery switch and said he would work on the engine Sunday morning while we were at church. During church I found myself wondering and worrying about how Henry was doing. I'm not used to turning over boat projects to other people.<br />
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As we walked back down the dock from church I could see water happily spurting out of the engine exhaust. The engine was running great! All was right with the world.<br />
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Henry also installed a battery switch and cables so we can use our house bank to start our engine if our starter bank fails. We can also charge our house bank using our new alternator.<br />
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"Now tomorrow I'm going with you when you motor over to the fuel dock to fill your starboard tank," Henry said. "I want to check to make sure there are no leaking fittings."<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rDbHAZzrRaI/Vfl0vfqyYKI/AAAAAAAACQc/cMYeOKVAPbQ/s1600/Henry%2Bonboard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rDbHAZzrRaI/Vfl0vfqyYKI/AAAAAAAACQc/cMYeOKVAPbQ/s400/Henry%2Bonboard.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry in his ever-present, faded orange knit cap aboard Oceanus.</td></tr>
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It was great to have <i>Oceanus</i> leave the dock again. Henry and I noticed that idle was a little fast, but the engine ran great! The fill up went well with no leaks.<br />
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Back in our slip Henry adjusted the throttle and discovered another problem. The throttle and shift cables needed replacing. So next weekend Henry will be back getting <i>Oceanus</i> one more step closer to leaving.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-3330969041303280882015-08-17T08:02:00.001-07:002015-08-17T20:35:05.366-07:00A visit from "Flying Sideways"<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Md6KTVZz9zY/VdHnKiMvCsI/AAAAAAAACPs/bBsQ3hcQlOU/s1600/Flying_Sideways0.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Md6KTVZz9zY/VdHnKiMvCsI/AAAAAAAACPs/bBsQ3hcQlOU/s640/Flying_Sideways0.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Karin and Joe's Flying Sideways looking good at Marina Chiapas, Mexico.</td></tr>
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Karin and Joe from <i>Flying Sideways</i>, a Columbia 43 Mark III, visited the <i>Oceanus</i> crew on Saturday. The four of us had a wonderful time as they inspected our boat and we peppered them with questions about cruising in Mexico and farther south.<br />
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I've written about <i>Flying Sideways</i> <a href="http://hagothlog.blogspot.com/2014/02/flyin-sideways-in-sea-of-cortez.html" target="_blank">before</a>. She is one of the prettiest 43s around. Over the last three years, Karin, Joe and their dog Jack have sailed her from San Diego to Mexico and Central America. The crews of <i>Oceanus</i> and <a href="http://flyinsideways.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><i>Flying Sideways</i></a> followed each other's adventures for the last couple of years on each others' blogs. When we finally met in person they felt like old friends. Let's hear it for the wonders of the internet!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uB_LBcPUNx0/VdHnUN4PqBI/AAAAAAAACQE/fhb10fhMdbw/s1600/Flying_Sideways2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uB_LBcPUNx0/VdHnUN4PqBI/AAAAAAAACQE/fhb10fhMdbw/s400/Flying_Sideways2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joe and Karin hard at work.</td></tr>
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Karin and Joe are no strangers to adventure. They are both pilots and skydivers each with thousands of jumps to their credit. For the past three years they cruised Flying Sideways in the winter months and then work for the largest skydiving company in the world during the summer in Phoenix, Ariz.<br />
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When they won a trip to Portland, Ore., they rented a car and came to Newport to see us. The conversation was non-stop as they inspected our yacht and we quizzed them about their boat and adventures.<br />
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They bought <i>Flying Sideways</i> in San Diego and worked on outfitting her for five months before heading south to Mexico. Their first foreign port was Ensenada, which they gave high marks for easy entry into the country with friendly officials and good services. The first season they explored Baja and the Sea of Cortez. Their second season they explored Mexico's Gold Coast all the way to the southern border.<br />
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This last season started with the notion of sailing to Panama and Chile, but the ever-flexible crew of <i>Flying Sideways</i> ended up cruising Nicaragua, El Salvador making it as far south as Bahia Ballena in Costa Rica where "everything started to break: water maker boost pump, dingy engine and solar charge controller." They returned to Marina Chiapas in Mexico to lay up their yacht for the summer.<br />
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We enjoyed hearing highlights over Virginia's excellent pot roast. Stories like the time the dropped anchor off Zihautenejo and found they were about 100 yards from the main stage during a week-long international guitar festival.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HxSPA08coM4/VdHnT2BCrkI/AAAAAAAACP4/wmI8MYwJPjQ/s1600/Flying_Sideways4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HxSPA08coM4/VdHnT2BCrkI/AAAAAAAACP4/wmI8MYwJPjQ/s640/Flying_Sideways4.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joe and Karen love the ocean and the desert.</td></tr>
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Their love for the people and places they visited is infectious. Their advice and recommendations: pure gold for us. We can't wait to follow in their wake. We look forward to seeing them again. The sooner the better. From virtual friends to real friends. Karin and Joe, we miss you already.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3003346162450847518.post-51316395574113931602015-08-11T07:40:00.001-07:002015-08-11T07:40:09.529-07:00We need your vote!Sailrite, a company that we've spent a lot of money with during the boat's restoration, is having a contest and we need your vote.<br />
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We entered our cushions and pillows in our main cabin. Here's the photo:<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Up3q1xIdovk/VcoIF3aKvII/AAAAAAAACPQ/Hnj_v5Bdjzs/s1600/P7182627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Up3q1xIdovk/VcoIF3aKvII/AAAAAAAACPQ/Hnj_v5Bdjzs/s640/P7182627.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Just go <a href="http://www.sailrite.com/Contest" target="_blank">here</a>, find our photo and vote for us. We are currently in third place without any effort on our part, other than entering. The two projects in first and second place are POWER BOATS! We can't let them win!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0