June 2001
I had a knot in the pit of my stomach as I cleared the Squalicum Harbor breakwater about 1 pm and I was surprised by the trepidation I was feeling. I had just given up my slip in Bellingham that I had for 2½ years and was now officially a vagabond with no homeport! I had used my slip for only a couple of weeks in the last 4 to 5 months and I would be gone for the summer so it seemed a waste to continue paying for it but is still felt like a major milestone in my life to leave it behind. I found myself thinking about the phrase "man without a country" and imagined painting the words "Planet Earth" under the boat’s name "Shariyat" on the transom.
My departure to the open ocean, west coast of Vancouver Island and possibly the Queen Charlotte Islands was only a month away and lots of work is in progress so my trip to Anacortes allowed me to test recent upgrades and ideas. I was commuting to another boat project, the last before my get-away, requiring transporting all my tools and materials as well as my live-aboard stuff so my Columbia 26 mkII rode about 6" low in the water. I had to hang the bicycle off the stern pulpit to make room for the table saw below and my trusty dinghy was merrily dancing in my wake behind. The last day of May was spectacularly warm and clear and I was content and reveling in the realization that here I was in a most beautiful part of the world sailing my home, office, and shop as well as carrying all my modes of transportation (I haven’t had a car in 5 years). My destination could be anywhere I wanted and the feeling was wonderful and I smiled as the wind generator took off and purred overhead as I fully appreciated my efforts to become self-sufficient. I had spent most of the winter anchored in Tsehum Harbor near Sidney, BC with only mild concern about battery usage as I tested my combination of a solar panel and wind generator. Although my old outboard motor has no alternator I don’t even own a regular battery charger! I do use oil lamps for light as much as possible though. With the current development of soaring energy costs and roving blackouts it’s very gratifying! A well-outfitted cruising boat is sure a marvelous space capsule. Landlubbers could certainly learn a thing or two about such efficiency.
It surprises me how I have achieved what I have in 26’ and still have room to sit and sleep. I am amazed how all the stuff fits away but it takes me hours to stow and tie down everything and I lose my v-berth when I transport tools. For this trip I almost didn’t tie my cargo down for open-ocean conditions as I was only going 17 miles and the forecast was for light winds but my training prevailed (or was it premonition?) The knot in my stomach tightened again thinking about Shariyat being so low in the water. What effect does that have, especially on seaworthiness and increased loads on the hull, deck and fittings? Have I created an Achilles-heel in my space capsule?
While the wind was light and on the nose leaving Bellingham bay, I ran the clakity-bang machine and tested the inflated wheelbarrow innertube put around the outboard shaft to seal it into the outboard well. In the past the water in the well sounded like a runaway washing machine and slopped over into the cockpit and soaked my feet and the jib sheets which I liked to use to hold down the chart I might bring up into the cockpit. I don’t know who came up with the innertube idea, I got it off the net from the Columbia Yacht Owner’s Association (CYOA) discussion group. This is a very good resource and there is a group for about all the major boat types. This totally solved the problem and the cockpit stayed dry even during the ensuing spinnaker knockdowns and roundups! (I’m jumping ahead). I also tested the new interfaces between the GPS, depthsounder and autopilot. I am pleased that I can now have the nav info displayed in the cockpit with the GPS safely mounted below, but I’m not so sure about the boat navigating and steering itself to a destination. It will be just that much harder to stay alert and tuned in to what’s going on around me. Do I have the discipline to not let it get out of hand and overuse it? I really have to wonder about all this techno-stuff that has insidiously found its way aboard my boat. I have a lead line, taffrail log and sextant aboard and enjoy using them and as a sailor I am basically a purist at heart but I work on those fancy big powerboats and the owners just give me stuff like computer navigation programs and chart CD’s. Life is crazy sometimes and often I feel like a fish stuck between 2 watery worlds. I really do need my get-away this summer to re-evaluate where I’m headed!
The wind finally came up and aft and I started sailing and was pleased at the way the "new" main halyard winch eased the proper tensioning of the new heavier-weight fully-battened mainsail which is harder to raise and lower than the old sail. I found the winch at a swap meet for $30 and it matches perfectly the one on the other side of the mast! I won’t tell you about all the used gear I have scrounged, like the perfect brass oil lamp for a quarter, or……. I get a real kick at finding this stuff and you’d be surprised what can be even be found in the dumpster! I always look when I throw something into it. Shariyat and I close-reached along at about 4-5 knots and I watched the knotmeter as I tried different trim with the new sail using the sheet, traveler and vang. This new sail is going to take some getting used to cuz it appears to be faster when overtrimmed with the batten-end telltales stalled. Go figure!? Maybe the full battens hide the backwinding? I see that I have to talk with my sailmaker!
As I approached Eliza Island the wind dropped and came aft so with the new autopilot steering the boat I set up for the spinnaker. It is often said that once you get an autopilot you kick yourself for not getting it sooner and I see why. Since I singlehand most of the time imagine the trouble I had setting and dropping the chute! Yea, I know they make spinnaker socks to make this easy but there are bigger priorities ahead of it. It took quite a while for the pilot to make it to the top of my wish list cuz I wanted a bigger one that could handle my fin-keel spade-rudder boat in a breeze downwind without burning up on me. I had heard (again on the internet CYOA group) that this was the problem under serious use. Well, it was time for fun now so I raised the kite behind the stalled genoa on a broad reach but as soon as I jammed the halyard in the clam cleat and reached for the sheet the halyard popped loose and I caught it just ahead of the bitter end as the sail became a drift net beside the boat! I had let go the sheet to grab the halyard and as soon as I got the sail back up the sheet pulled free off the winch and I watched it unreeve itself through the quarter block, trying to put the bicycle into orbit and turning the sail into a giant wet flag streaming away from the boat! Well, there’s another fine mess I’d gotten myself into! Laurel and Hardy would be proud! Even I thought it was comical though as there was no real concern with the wind blowing less than 10 knots. Now how was I to retrieve the sheet? I tried heading up so the sheet would trail beside the boat close enough to grab with the boathook but I didn’t dare point so high as to foul the shrouds with the sail. That didn’t work as I fought back the terrifying memory of being sent aloft to 60’ at night in a gale ½ way to Hawaii with a knife to cut away a 2000’ spinnaker that had wrapped itself around the masthead (but that’s another story). I then tried running off so the sail might collapse behind the mainsail. That did the trick and I grabbed it, reeved it and got it trimmed without further mishap. Chagrined, I looked around to see who might have witnessed my oh-so-seamanlike antics and found I had lucked out as no-one was in sight! It would have been a lot more interesting without the extra "hand" on the tiller, though.
So off we danced making quite a pretty picture and I could actually go forward to look at it-what a concept! But the show was not quite over. The wind increased and came forward to a beam reach and I was just barely able to make Samish Point. Now here was a good test for the pilot as there was quite a bit of weather helm. What a treat to watch, that is until the wind increased and got gusty! Now we were on the edge of control on a tight spinnaker reach with the shoals south of Samish just a ¼ mile off to leeward. This was no longer so comical. The wind looked lighter ahead so I wanted to hang on to the chute but I had to assist the pilot at times to keep the bow down. It was thrilling as we flew along above hull speed now which surprised me since my "cargo ship" was fully loaded. Then the first roundup/collapse occurred. I took control back from the pilot thinking I could prevent another one but quickly found I could not. I tried letting out some sheet and found it had been overtrimmed and this helped, but the wind was still increasing and we soon did it again, with the whole boat shuddering when the sail re-filled and tried to shake the rig down bringing back more wonderful Transpac memories. I quickly finalized my takedown procedure while being thankful I just reworked my chainplates! I connected the pilot again and waited for a lull and quickly punched in a 10 degree course change to leeward to hopefully prevent another round-up while I raced forward to raise the genoa. I have found that the stalled genoa, along with the main makes a good wind shadow to lower the chute behind but as I let go the guy (windward spinnaker sheet) the sail came aft behind the boat to leeward. I punched in another 30 degrees leeward course change and the sail came forward into the shadow and I was able to lower it right into the opened companionway hatch and below only getting one clew slightly into the water. I quickly trimmed the genoa and main while bringing the course to weather to work out of the 20’ of water depth we had gotten into. Whew, that was cutting it close! Don’t try this with your home! The wind dropped as I thought it would and came aft and we had a lazy broad reach the rest of the way to Cap Sante Marina in Anacortes while I contemplated and made notes on what I learned on this very productive sea-trial. Most everything worked very nicely but one clam-cleat and worn-out spinnaker halyard would get deep-sixed pronto! More importantly, I’d better sail more cautiously when I am in unforgiving waters !
So now my thoughts are on my upcoming trip outside and up towards the Charlottes. I want to see how the boat (and I) will handle the open ocean to determine our future together. I really like the idea of going small but will the boat safely carry the gear? Do I need all this gear? All my previous offshore experience has been on larger, full-keel traditional boats. Is this going to be like riding inside a washing machine? Do I leave for beyond-the-sunset destinations right away or come back and toil for years more, jumping back into "the system" to make the bucks for a bigger boat after cutting my ties with the landlubbery world? Well, either way it will certainly be an adventure, and I’ll keep you all posted!