Any time you want an adrenaline rush, try bringing a boat into the Gate at night in dense fog. Both of us were up from four a.m. to six, monitoring the radar and talking on the VHF with other vessels and Traffic Service. A huge freighter and a container ship passed half a mile away, and we couldn't see any of their lights. Couldn't even see the bright light of the Point Bonita Lighthouse. All we saw were green blobs on the radar screen. We marveled that anyone would sail a boat without radar, yet we heard on the VHF a freighter telling a sailboat to get out of its way; the sailboat had no radar and was about to cross right in front of the freighter.
We had no problem dodging vessels and buoys; the problem was going to be getting under the bridge. On radar, a bridge looks like a solid wall; you can't tell the towers from the rest of the bridge. Rather than risk a collision, we decided to duck into Bonita Cove and drop anchor until the sun came up and the fog lifted. There appeared to be one or two other boats in there.
As soon as we were anchored, Roy took a much-needed nap (he'd been up since two a.m.), while I kept watch and rang the bell. Once, I heard a motorboat coming straight towards us. I blew the horn. He swerved and passed 50 feet away.
The fog was still thick after breakfast, so Roy changed the oil, and I updated the log. We laughed at the irony of completing a
3000-mile trip by being fog-bound 10 miles from home.
On the VHF, the Coast Guard announced that the "Good News" was abandoned and adrift. They gave the coordinates to warn vessels not to bump into it, but that also means anyone can go out there and claim it as salvage.
We sat at Bonita Cove for more than six hours, waiting for the fog to lift. By noon, we had one-eighth of a mile of visibility, so we decided to try it. Slowly and carefully, we eased out of the cove and under the bridge, following a Coast Guard boat. By the time we were abreast of Angel Island, the sun was shining, the sky was bright blue, the fog was behind us. A zillion sailboats glided about, exulting in the glorious day.
We reached Marina Bay around three o'clock. Rita Coy waved to us from a rowboat. We're home again, safe and sound! We've traveled 3425 miles to Alaska and back, and I didn't get seasick once! We've experienced some exciting adventures. We've seen some magnificent scenery. Best of all, we've enjoyed each other's companionship. Surely, we're among the most fortunate people on earth.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Saturday, October 10, 1992 - On way to San Francisco
Perfect day! Clear blue sky, warm sun, calm water. We left Fort Bragg shortly after six, just as a huge orange moon was setting directly in front of us. At first, we thought it was the rising sun, but then we realized we were facing west, not east.
Motored leisurely down the coast all day, enjoying the scenery. Cleared Point Arena precisely at noon, and Roy told me about his diving days there. A big hotel has been built at Arena Cove since Roy was last there.
Passed Fort Ross just before sunset. The full moon was rising in the east just as the sun was setting in the west. We're going to have another beautiful moonlit night. The deep red of sunset suffused the entire western sky, while the moon cast a silver path across the water to the east. The air was so clear that we could see the bright light at Point Reyes 25 miles away! This made setting a course very simple.
We had planned on spending the night in Drake's Bay, but the weather was so beautiful, we decided to keep going. Figured we'd be knocking at the Gate shortly before dawn.
A little after midnight, we reached Point Reyes -- and immediately plunged into pea soup. The light we had seen so clearly 25 miles away was completely invisible at a distance of one mile.
Motored leisurely down the coast all day, enjoying the scenery. Cleared Point Arena precisely at noon, and Roy told me about his diving days there. A big hotel has been built at Arena Cove since Roy was last there.
Passed Fort Ross just before sunset. The full moon was rising in the east just as the sun was setting in the west. We're going to have another beautiful moonlit night. The deep red of sunset suffused the entire western sky, while the moon cast a silver path across the water to the east. The air was so clear that we could see the bright light at Point Reyes 25 miles away! This made setting a course very simple.
We had planned on spending the night in Drake's Bay, but the weather was so beautiful, we decided to keep going. Figured we'd be knocking at the Gate shortly before dawn.
A little after midnight, we reached Point Reyes -- and immediately plunged into pea soup. The light we had seen so clearly 25 miles away was completely invisible at a distance of one mile.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Friday, October 9, 1992 - Fort Bragg, CA
Beautiful day. Calm and sunny. We stayed close to shore to enjoy the scenery and stay out of the high winds.
Farther out, the gale was still raging. Around 3:30, we heard a man on the VHF radio, talking with the Humboldt Bay Coast Guard. He sounded young and scared. He was single-handing a small trimaran, 45 miles west of Fort Bragg. He said the wind was blowing 35 and 40 knots, and huge waves were tossing his boat around like crazy. It had been going on all night and all day. He had a sea anchor out and a small stormsail. We really felt for him, especially after what we'd been through last night. But he's in far greater danger than we were. He's all alone, 45 miles from land, in a flimsy trimaran instead of a sturdy, sea-worthy, full-keeled ketch. The Jofian could take the weather he's in; a trimaran can't. Trimarans are fine on a lake, where it doesn't matter if you flip over; they don't belong on the ocean. But the guy wasn't asking for rescue; he mainly wanted to know when the wind was going to let up. He said he'd listened to the weather forecast, and there hadn't been any mention of anything like the stuff he was in. The Coast Guard couldn't tell him when the weather would improve. They told him to contact them again in three hours.
Then the skipper of the "Magic Carpet" came on (one of the sailors we'd heard yesterday). He spoke to him reassuringly. Told him to eat some hot soup and let the wind carry him in towards shore, where it was calm. He also told him to contact him on the VHF any time he wanted to talk with someone.
A fisherman came on (probably the same one I talked with yesterday) and told him the wind wasn't going to die down; it was always rough in that area and two or three boats a year were lost out there. Nothing like cheering the kid up.
Ironically, the name of the trimaran was "Good News".
We soon arrived at Fort Bragg. The entrance to the Noyo River was narrow and tricky but not rough. It would be a mess in a strong westerly, though.
We took one look at the marina and decided not to go into it. It looked crowded and small, with no room to turn around. On the other side of the river was a nice, long float, with only one boat tied to it, so we tied up there, even though we figured it was private. There weren't any "No Trespassing" signs.
When we walked through the gate, we saw a sign that said the dock belonged to the Noyo Fishing Center, which was just across the street but was closed.
We bought some snapper at a nearby fish store and took it back to the boat. As we were getting on the boat, we heard the loudspeaker at the Coast Guard station across the river broadcasting another trans-
mission from the guy on the "Good News", so we quickly turned on our VHF. It was nearly six o'clock, and he was ready to be rescued. He said, "I want to get out of this while I'm still alive." He sounded about ready to cry. He was poorly equipped for a sea voyage; he didn't have a life-raft or an EPIRB, but at least he had a GPS, so he was able to tell the Coast Guard his exact location. What a wonderful invention the GPS is! He also had a wet-suit, so the Coast Guard told him to put it on.
Roy and I walked out to the end of the jetty and watched a couple of SCUBA divers going in the water. It was dark when we got back to the boat. There was a man on the dock cleaning fish. He worked for the Noyo Fish Center, so we asked him for the name and home phone number of the owner. He gave them to us, and Roy phoned him to ask permission to stay overnight.
I listened to the VHF while I fixed supper. The SAR (Search and Rescue) helicopter was ten miles from the "Good News". I could hear the transmission between the two loud and clear. The helicopter had its landing lights on, and the trimaran had its mast lights on. In a few minutes, the helicopter pilot could see the "Good News". He told the guy to put on his wet-suit and PFD and to take off his weight belt. The young man on the "Good News" did as he was told, but he said his PFD (Personal Flotation Device) wasn't inflated. The pilot told him to inflate it and be ready to jump in the water when told to do so. The helicopter lowered a basket and a rescue swimmer. The swimmer swam over to the "Good News", told the guy to jump in the water, and helped him get in the basket. Then the basket was pulled back up to the helicopter. Having watched the Search and Rescue demonstration at Port Angeles, I could clearly visualize the entire operation.
Roy and I were very happy the sea drama had reached a successful conclusion. And we had permission to stay at the dock.
Farther out, the gale was still raging. Around 3:30, we heard a man on the VHF radio, talking with the Humboldt Bay Coast Guard. He sounded young and scared. He was single-handing a small trimaran, 45 miles west of Fort Bragg. He said the wind was blowing 35 and 40 knots, and huge waves were tossing his boat around like crazy. It had been going on all night and all day. He had a sea anchor out and a small stormsail. We really felt for him, especially after what we'd been through last night. But he's in far greater danger than we were. He's all alone, 45 miles from land, in a flimsy trimaran instead of a sturdy, sea-worthy, full-keeled ketch. The Jofian could take the weather he's in; a trimaran can't. Trimarans are fine on a lake, where it doesn't matter if you flip over; they don't belong on the ocean. But the guy wasn't asking for rescue; he mainly wanted to know when the wind was going to let up. He said he'd listened to the weather forecast, and there hadn't been any mention of anything like the stuff he was in. The Coast Guard couldn't tell him when the weather would improve. They told him to contact them again in three hours.
Then the skipper of the "Magic Carpet" came on (one of the sailors we'd heard yesterday). He spoke to him reassuringly. Told him to eat some hot soup and let the wind carry him in towards shore, where it was calm. He also told him to contact him on the VHF any time he wanted to talk with someone.
A fisherman came on (probably the same one I talked with yesterday) and told him the wind wasn't going to die down; it was always rough in that area and two or three boats a year were lost out there. Nothing like cheering the kid up.
Ironically, the name of the trimaran was "Good News".
We soon arrived at Fort Bragg. The entrance to the Noyo River was narrow and tricky but not rough. It would be a mess in a strong westerly, though.
We took one look at the marina and decided not to go into it. It looked crowded and small, with no room to turn around. On the other side of the river was a nice, long float, with only one boat tied to it, so we tied up there, even though we figured it was private. There weren't any "No Trespassing" signs.
When we walked through the gate, we saw a sign that said the dock belonged to the Noyo Fishing Center, which was just across the street but was closed.
We bought some snapper at a nearby fish store and took it back to the boat. As we were getting on the boat, we heard the loudspeaker at the Coast Guard station across the river broadcasting another trans-
mission from the guy on the "Good News", so we quickly turned on our VHF. It was nearly six o'clock, and he was ready to be rescued. He said, "I want to get out of this while I'm still alive." He sounded about ready to cry. He was poorly equipped for a sea voyage; he didn't have a life-raft or an EPIRB, but at least he had a GPS, so he was able to tell the Coast Guard his exact location. What a wonderful invention the GPS is! He also had a wet-suit, so the Coast Guard told him to put it on.
Roy and I walked out to the end of the jetty and watched a couple of SCUBA divers going in the water. It was dark when we got back to the boat. There was a man on the dock cleaning fish. He worked for the Noyo Fish Center, so we asked him for the name and home phone number of the owner. He gave them to us, and Roy phoned him to ask permission to stay overnight.
I listened to the VHF while I fixed supper. The SAR (Search and Rescue) helicopter was ten miles from the "Good News". I could hear the transmission between the two loud and clear. The helicopter had its landing lights on, and the trimaran had its mast lights on. In a few minutes, the helicopter pilot could see the "Good News". He told the guy to put on his wet-suit and PFD and to take off his weight belt. The young man on the "Good News" did as he was told, but he said his PFD (Personal Flotation Device) wasn't inflated. The pilot told him to inflate it and be ready to jump in the water when told to do so. The helicopter lowered a basket and a rescue swimmer. The swimmer swam over to the "Good News", told the guy to jump in the water, and helped him get in the basket. Then the basket was pulled back up to the helicopter. Having watched the Search and Rescue demonstration at Port Angeles, I could clearly visualize the entire operation.
Roy and I were very happy the sea drama had reached a successful conclusion. And we had permission to stay at the dock.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Thursday, October 8, 1992 - Shelter Cove, CA
Lost our calm water overnight, but the wind and waves are in back of us, so we're still zooming south.
Debated going into Eureka, but the forecast was favorable, so we continued south, sailing nicely wing-and-wing.
Passed Cape Mendocino around five p.m. in dense fog. Good thing the radar works. By then, the wind was howling at 30 to 40 knots, despite the prediction of 10 to 20 knots, and the waves were really kicking up. Worst of all were the huge swells from the west. When they went under the boat, Jofian tilted first one way, then the other, and slipped around all over the place. Guess we should have gone into Eureka, but there's no turning back now; we can only go where the wind takes us.
We heard some other sailboaters talking on the VHF. One was safe at Fort Bragg, but the other was taking a pounding off Point Delgado. She said the wind was blowing 40 knots and the waves were horrendous. So much for weather forecasts. A fisherman came on and advised them to go into Shelter Cove, but they had already passed it, so they had no choice but to go on and hope for the best. The fisherman said that Punta Gorda (where we were heading) was always the worst place on the entire coast.
We were sailing under reefed main and reefed headsail, doing 7 to 8 knots and sliding off the tops of waves at 10 knots. I was struggling to hold our course between 120 degrees and 150 degrees, but even with a spread of 30 degrees, I couldn't hold it when the swells hit, and then Roy had to get us back on course; I didn't have the strength.
Roy started the engine and then went out in the gale to take in the main. That's easy to write, but it was a half-hour struggle. He also pulled in all but a couple of feet of the headsail. This made steering much, much easier, so I was able to more or less hold the course.
By now, it was nighttime. The fog lifted and a brilliant moon lighted our way. We zoomed past Punta Gorda in howling winds and wild waves. Roy wisely decided to head for Shelter Cove, 20 miles southeast of us. It was after midnight when we got there and dropped anchor in 48 feet of water. Boy, did it feel good to be out of the wind and waves! We ate a bowl of soup for supper and went right to sleep.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Wednesday, October 7, 1992 - California
Lovely, calm, sunny morning. The ocean couldn't be any flatter. No waves, not even a ripple. Of course, that means no wind for sailing, but that's ok; we zipped along under power.
In the afternoon, there were a few ripples. Roy put out the main and headsail, wing-and-wing, but we used the engine, too. We're back in California!
We had planned on going to Crescent City, but the weather's so beautiful that we decided to keep going.
We heard some other sailboaters chatting on the VHF. Most of them are doing what we're doing: taking advantage of the good weather by continuing south.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Tuesday, October 6, 1992 - Coos Bay, OR
Another clear, sunny, beautiful day. A very nice man, Bob Carman, came by to visit. He lives on his 38-foot sailboat, the Ka'u, on Dock 8. He's a captain and delivers boats all over the world. We enjoyed a pleasant chat. He's in the Coast Guard Auxiliary and spends a lot of time at the Coast Guard station. He told us one or two boats a year are lost crossing the bar.
We had a hard time deciding whether to go or stay. This is a lovely place. We'd have liked to ride our bikes around and to walk along the beach, but we need to be getting back to Richmond, so we finally decided to go down to Coos Bay. That's less than 20 miles, but it's that much closer to home.
The afternoon turned out to be absolutely beautiful. We were able to turn off the engine and sail with the main and headsail wing-to-
wing. It was so quiet and peaceful. We made four to five knots. Reached Coos Bay a little after six.
The Coast Guard were Johnny-on-the-spot. We'd scarcely gotten two throw lines attached to the dock -- hadn't even turned off the engine -- when two Coasties were there wanting to board. They were very nice. They checked our registration, life-jackets, flares, placards, VHF license, etc., but they didn't inspect the boat. We passed with flying colors.
After supper, we walked to a little store and bought some vegetables.
There are good showers here, too. You get a long three minutes for 25 cents.
The weather outlook is favorable for several days.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Monday, October 5, 1992 - Umpqua River, OR
Clear, sunny, and breezy. We took the boat over to the fuel dock and filled the tank and eight jerry cans. Then we took the boat around the corner to Winchester Marina. Got a good end-tie on Dock 5.
This is a good, well-made marina. We have electricity and water. The showers are excellent.
I wanted to paddle up a little stream we'd seen. What I didn't realize was that there was no way to reach the stream from Winchester Bay; I had to paddle over to Salem Harbor. This meant going a short distance on the Umpqua River, where the wind was blowing strong against me and there were white-capped waves. I hugged the shore and made it, but when I reached the stream, I found I couldn't paddle up it at all; it narrowed to almost nothing and became impassable in less than 100 yards. So I blew back to the boat.
We enjoyed long, hot showers and shampoos. We could use all the water we wanted. Cost $1, but it was worth it.
In the evening, we carted the dirty clothes over to the laundromat. It was a nice, clean, new-looking laundromat. So now everything's clean, including us.
Roy talked with a man who watched us crossing the bar yesterday. He said the waves sometimes lifted the boat completely out of the water!
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Sunday, October 4, 1992 - Umpqua River, OR
I was on watch around five a.m. when I saw a small light in the distance ahead. I thought it was a small boat two or three miles away. Tried to find it on radar. Finally located it on the 12-mile range. It was a huge freighter 11 miles away! And it was headed directly for us, going 90 to nothing. I immediately altered our course to avoid it, but it still seemed to be coming at us. In no time, it was on the 8-mile range, then the 4, and then the 2. Its lights were glaring right at me. I turned off the auto-pilot, grabbed the wheel, and swung hard to starboard, but the monster seemed to be coming right towards us no matter what I did. There's no feeling quite like being on a sailboat in pitch darkness, going as fast as you can, watching a humungous freighter bearing down on you. But after a few tense minutes, the freighter glided silently by, 3/4 of a mile away. It was going so fast, it had no sooner gone by than it disappeared. And I started breathing again.
The day was sunny, with a northeast breeze. We put out the headsail but used the engine, too. The wind was almost directly in back of us, which made the sail flop around. In the afternoon, the wind kicked up to twenty or more knots, and the waves started getting bigger and topped with whitecaps. We had hoped to make Coos Bay, but it would have been getting dark by the time we got there, so we decided to go into the mouth of the Umpqua River. Ha ha ha. That's like deciding to climb the face of a cliff instead of taking the road around the base. We'd thought the entrance to Gray's Harbor was wild, but it was a picnic compared with the entrance to the Umpqua River. Usually, as soon as you're inside the breakwater, the water flattens out, but here huge waves were breaking inside the breakwater! The wind was up to 30 knots, and 15-foot waves were tossing the Jofian this way and that, up and down, back and forth, side to side. A couple of times we heeled 50 degrees, first one side, then the other. We were very thankful for the solid lead keel; many boats would have flipped completely over. Roy was hanging onto the wheel for dear life, trying to avoid the breakers on our left and the rocks on the right. There wasn't much distance between them. We had range finders to guide us, but it was a real feat of seamanship to keep on course when the boat was sliding this way and that off the tops of the waves. If anything at all had gone wrong -- if the engine had quit or the steering mechanism had failed -- we'd have been smashed helplessly against the rocks. But everything worked perfectly. Jofian took it all in stride; it was all in the day's work for her. After an eternity, we passed the ends of the breakwaters and entered the river. The wind was still howling, but there were no waves to speak of. What a relief! Our mouths were so dry, we both had to drink a glass of water.
There are two marinas here: Winchester Bay and Salmon Harbor. The information we had said sailboats should use Salmon Harbor, so that's where we went. We soon realized we should have gone to Winchester Bay, but at the moment we didn't care. There was plenty of available dock space, so Roy put the engine in neutral and we blew over to the first dock. Boy, did it feel good to walk on solid ground again! We're glad we had the experience of crossing the Umpqua River bar in 30-knot winds, but we wouldn't want to do it again!
We walked around a while and bought a few groceries. As we were passing a small shopping center, a woman hailed us and asked if we knew anything about fixing cars. Her solenoid had hung up and was cranking away. She had phoned her mechanic, and he had advised her to cut the battery cable, so she was out there trying to cut it with a pair of plastic scissors that would have a hard time cutting paper. Roy pulled the cable off with a pair of pliers. The woman was very grateful.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Saturday, October 3, 1992 - On way to Oregon
Movin' right along. By noon, we were abreast the mouth of the Columbia River (but way out). We're out of Washington and into Oregon!
In the morning, we turned off the engine so Roy could change the oil and empty two or three jerry cans into the diesel tank. He did all this with the boat rocking back and forth on the waves. And he didn't make a mess!
Yesterday, near Cape Flattery, two little land birds landed on the boat. They kept trying to fly back to shore, but the wind was too strong. After we rounded the cape, they were able to ride the west wind back.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Friday, October 2, 1992 - on way to Oregon
Finally got away from Neah Bay. We led the parade, but the motor yacht soon passed us.
Completely overcast most of the day. Somewhat foggy in the morning.
Had no problem rounding Cape Flattery, and as soon as we were headed south, we had a good sailing breeze. Put out the headsail, main, and mizzen. For a while, we were able to sail without the engine. That was so neat! No sound but the wind and waves and rush of the bow wake. But then the wind died and we had to turn the engine back on.
Around noon, the engine abruptly quit. We thought the valve had clogged again, but no, this time it was a leaking fuel line. We'd been smelling diesel fumes for a couple of days, but thought they were coming from the jerry cans. As soon as Roy fixed the leak, the engine started right up.
We're just going to keep truckin', day and night, as long as the weather's favorable.
Completely overcast most of the day. Somewhat foggy in the morning.
Had no problem rounding Cape Flattery, and as soon as we were headed south, we had a good sailing breeze. Put out the headsail, main, and mizzen. For a while, we were able to sail without the engine. That was so neat! No sound but the wind and waves and rush of the bow wake. But then the wind died and we had to turn the engine back on.
Around noon, the engine abruptly quit. We thought the valve had clogged again, but no, this time it was a leaking fuel line. We'd been smelling diesel fumes for a couple of days, but thought they were coming from the jerry cans. As soon as Roy fixed the leak, the engine started right up.
We're just going to keep truckin', day and night, as long as the weather's favorable.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Thursday, October 1, 1992 - Neah Bay, WA
Well, here it is October and we still haven't rounded the cape. But tomorrow, the wind's supposed to change in our favor.
This morning was overcast, damp, and windy. Our anchor was dragging, so we moved forward and lowered the second anchor. Several other boats dragged, too.
The Lady Washington's in here now. In fact, there are a whole bunch of boats waiting to go south.
Forgot to mention yesterday, when we got off the bus, the driver asked if we were senior citizens. When we told him our ages, he was surprised. He said, "You both look a lot younger." That really made our day!
Roy spent most of today working on the generator. Finally got it started at 3:30 in the afternoon. He had to disconnect the stop button, but we can stop it easily by taking the wire off the sparkplug. Sure nice to have microwave-cooked meals again.
I spent most of the day trying to tune the shortwave radio. Finally decided the antenna needs adjusting. Lowest standing wave ratio I could get was 2:1, and that was only on one or two bands. Most of the bands were around 5:1. The standing wave ratio is supposed to be 1.5:1 or lower.
After finishing repairing the generator, Roy went to town to buy a few things. He ran into the husband of the woman we were talking with yesterday and got the rest of the story, or at least the husband's version of the story. They did pay; the husband left a twenty-dollar
bill, which was more than enough to pay for their food, most of which they didn't eat. His wife had ordered a meat dip with cheese. It was brought without cheese, so she complained. The waitress went back and got a cold piece of cheese with the paper still on it and put it on the plate. The woman refused to eat it. Apparently, some heated words were exchanged. Her husband had eaten a bite or two of his hamburger, and the crew member had eaten two or three French fries. The woman had eaten nothing. The husband said, "Let's get out of here." He slammed a twenty-dollar bill down on the table, and the three of them left.
The non-uniformed police captain caught up with them in the grocery store and told the woman she was under arrest. She asked, "What for?" and he said, "For disturbing the peace." Her husband came over and told the captain he was not going to arrest his wife. He's an aeronautical engineer with a million-dollar yacht, so he had no qualms about standing up to a small-town cop. The captain threatened to arrest him for interfering with the duties of a police officer. The engineer told the captain if he wanted to keep his job, he'd better leave them alone. The argument went on and on. The woman was in tears, and a crowd of shoppers had gathered to watch. The captain got nervous and called for backup. Seven officers responded! I didn't know there were that many policemen in the entire area. The captain, who was about 25 years old, looked frightened and ridiculous. One of the officers fetched the waitress from the restaurant, and she admitted they had paid. No one was arrested. The captain told the three to get out of town and stay out, which was fine with them, since they were planning on leaving anyway. The woman took the bus to Seattle, and the two men will take the boat south tomorrow.
There should be a mass exodus out of here in the morning; a dozen or more boats are waiting for the wind to change.
This morning was overcast, damp, and windy. Our anchor was dragging, so we moved forward and lowered the second anchor. Several other boats dragged, too.
The Lady Washington's in here now. In fact, there are a whole bunch of boats waiting to go south.
Forgot to mention yesterday, when we got off the bus, the driver asked if we were senior citizens. When we told him our ages, he was surprised. He said, "You both look a lot younger." That really made our day!
Roy spent most of today working on the generator. Finally got it started at 3:30 in the afternoon. He had to disconnect the stop button, but we can stop it easily by taking the wire off the sparkplug. Sure nice to have microwave-cooked meals again.
I spent most of the day trying to tune the shortwave radio. Finally decided the antenna needs adjusting. Lowest standing wave ratio I could get was 2:1, and that was only on one or two bands. Most of the bands were around 5:1. The standing wave ratio is supposed to be 1.5:1 or lower.
After finishing repairing the generator, Roy went to town to buy a few things. He ran into the husband of the woman we were talking with yesterday and got the rest of the story, or at least the husband's version of the story. They did pay; the husband left a twenty-dollar
bill, which was more than enough to pay for their food, most of which they didn't eat. His wife had ordered a meat dip with cheese. It was brought without cheese, so she complained. The waitress went back and got a cold piece of cheese with the paper still on it and put it on the plate. The woman refused to eat it. Apparently, some heated words were exchanged. Her husband had eaten a bite or two of his hamburger, and the crew member had eaten two or three French fries. The woman had eaten nothing. The husband said, "Let's get out of here." He slammed a twenty-dollar bill down on the table, and the three of them left.
The non-uniformed police captain caught up with them in the grocery store and told the woman she was under arrest. She asked, "What for?" and he said, "For disturbing the peace." Her husband came over and told the captain he was not going to arrest his wife. He's an aeronautical engineer with a million-dollar yacht, so he had no qualms about standing up to a small-town cop. The captain threatened to arrest him for interfering with the duties of a police officer. The engineer told the captain if he wanted to keep his job, he'd better leave them alone. The argument went on and on. The woman was in tears, and a crowd of shoppers had gathered to watch. The captain got nervous and called for backup. Seven officers responded! I didn't know there were that many policemen in the entire area. The captain, who was about 25 years old, looked frightened and ridiculous. One of the officers fetched the waitress from the restaurant, and she admitted they had paid. No one was arrested. The captain told the three to get out of town and stay out, which was fine with them, since they were planning on leaving anyway. The woman took the bus to Seattle, and the two men will take the boat south tomorrow.
There should be a mass exodus out of here in the morning; a dozen or more boats are waiting for the wind to change.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Wednesday, September 30, 1992 - Neah Bay, WA
First thing we discovered this morning was that the bilge pumps weren't working, so Roy spent the morning cleaning the bilge. For-
tunately, that was all that was needed; the pumps were just clogged. They work fine now.
While Roy was doing that, I paddled ashore and bought a few groceries and a book of stamps. Then I paddled around the bay. Went over to the remains of the bridge but got chased away.
We had tried to listen for Ken at ten a.m., but the reception was very poor, and we kept hearing the loud ticking. After lunch, I noticed that the depth sounder was on, and it occurred to me that might be what was causing the ticking. Roy agreed that was a good idea. He turned on the radio and turned off the DC circuit breakers one by one. The ticking wasn't caused by the depth sounder; it was caused by the radar. That makes sense; the radar has to time the beams it sends out, probably by a crystal oscillator, and it's located close to the radio antenna. So now we know how to eliminate the ticking.
We paddled ashore to take the bus to Forks. In spite of my reminder, Roy forgot the chain, lock, and key, so he had to zoom back to the boat and get them.
While we were waiting for the bus, two men and a woman came up and started a conversation. The woman said she had been treated very rudely in the restaurant across the street. They hadn't brought her what she had ordered, so she had refused to pay for it.
When Roy and I got on the bus, we saw the Police Captain's car in front of the restaurant. The captain (?), in jeans and sports shirt, was talking with two waitresses. We surmised the waitresses were complaining about the woman who didn't pay. They looked at me on the bus as if they thought I was the one. (There was a slight resemblance.) Sure enough, the bus had gone a very short distance when it was stopped by the police captain. He got on the bus and asked about the people who had got on at the motel. Another man who had gotten on with us immediately spoke up and said he'd gotten on there and had heard about someone who hadn't paid in the restaurant. We told the captain that the woman and two men had headed towards the general store. He thanked us and left. Methinks that's going to turn out to be an expensive meal.
Enjoyed a pleasant, free ride to Forks. It's about 45 miles each way, the first ten alongside the strait, the rest through woods. It was an unusually warm, almost hot, day. We strolled around Forks for a couple of hours and bought a few things we couldn't get in Neah Bay, including a little camping toaster (non-electric) to use on the propane stove.
tunately, that was all that was needed; the pumps were just clogged. They work fine now.
While Roy was doing that, I paddled ashore and bought a few groceries and a book of stamps. Then I paddled around the bay. Went over to the remains of the bridge but got chased away.
We had tried to listen for Ken at ten a.m., but the reception was very poor, and we kept hearing the loud ticking. After lunch, I noticed that the depth sounder was on, and it occurred to me that might be what was causing the ticking. Roy agreed that was a good idea. He turned on the radio and turned off the DC circuit breakers one by one. The ticking wasn't caused by the depth sounder; it was caused by the radar. That makes sense; the radar has to time the beams it sends out, probably by a crystal oscillator, and it's located close to the radio antenna. So now we know how to eliminate the ticking.
We paddled ashore to take the bus to Forks. In spite of my reminder, Roy forgot the chain, lock, and key, so he had to zoom back to the boat and get them.
While we were waiting for the bus, two men and a woman came up and started a conversation. The woman said she had been treated very rudely in the restaurant across the street. They hadn't brought her what she had ordered, so she had refused to pay for it.
When Roy and I got on the bus, we saw the Police Captain's car in front of the restaurant. The captain (?), in jeans and sports shirt, was talking with two waitresses. We surmised the waitresses were complaining about the woman who didn't pay. They looked at me on the bus as if they thought I was the one. (There was a slight resemblance.) Sure enough, the bus had gone a very short distance when it was stopped by the police captain. He got on the bus and asked about the people who had got on at the motel. Another man who had gotten on with us immediately spoke up and said he'd gotten on there and had heard about someone who hadn't paid in the restaurant. We told the captain that the woman and two men had headed towards the general store. He thanked us and left. Methinks that's going to turn out to be an expensive meal.
Enjoyed a pleasant, free ride to Forks. It's about 45 miles each way, the first ten alongside the strait, the rest through woods. It was an unusually warm, almost hot, day. We strolled around Forks for a couple of hours and bought a few things we couldn't get in Neah Bay, including a little camping toaster (non-electric) to use on the propane stove.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Tuesday, September 29, 1992 - Neah Bay, WA
Now that we have nothing to do but wait for the wind to change, we can take care of some of the things we've been putting off.
This morning, we finally checked into the problem with the short-
wave radio. We haven't heard a sound out of it for months. We removed the radio and the tuner from their cubbyholes and saw that the wire that was supposed to connect the two was disconnected! We plugged it in, expecting that to take care of the problem, but to our dismay, we still couldn't hear anything. We checked all the other connections, and they seemed to be fine. Then Roy had the brilliant idea of listening with his earphones. He could hear perfectly! Thinking the speaker wasn't functioning, he pulled out the plug for the earphones. Lo! We could hear the radio loud and clear. Such a simple little thing!
Before the day was over, we had listened to the Voice of America in New York, Family Radio in North Carolina, the BBC in London, the Voice of Italy in Rome, and the Voice of Cuba in Havana. How neat to have a shortwave radio that works!
Of course, all those stations have very powerful transmitters. Communicating with other hams is another matter. At five o'clock, we listened to 3868.5 to see if we could hear Roy's brother Ken, but reception was poor. We kept hearing a loud ticking. Can't figure out what's causing it.
Besides playing with the radio, Roy made some repairs to the boat and we read. We also finally found out what those huge concrete things are at the end of the bay. They're just what they look like: approaches to a bridge. A bridge on I-85 collapsed a few years ago, and the remains were brought here. They'll eventually be used as a breakwater.
This morning, we finally checked into the problem with the short-
wave radio. We haven't heard a sound out of it for months. We removed the radio and the tuner from their cubbyholes and saw that the wire that was supposed to connect the two was disconnected! We plugged it in, expecting that to take care of the problem, but to our dismay, we still couldn't hear anything. We checked all the other connections, and they seemed to be fine. Then Roy had the brilliant idea of listening with his earphones. He could hear perfectly! Thinking the speaker wasn't functioning, he pulled out the plug for the earphones. Lo! We could hear the radio loud and clear. Such a simple little thing!
Before the day was over, we had listened to the Voice of America in New York, Family Radio in North Carolina, the BBC in London, the Voice of Italy in Rome, and the Voice of Cuba in Havana. How neat to have a shortwave radio that works!
Of course, all those stations have very powerful transmitters. Communicating with other hams is another matter. At five o'clock, we listened to 3868.5 to see if we could hear Roy's brother Ken, but reception was poor. We kept hearing a loud ticking. Can't figure out what's causing it.
Besides playing with the radio, Roy made some repairs to the boat and we read. We also finally found out what those huge concrete things are at the end of the bay. They're just what they look like: approaches to a bridge. A bridge on I-85 collapsed a few years ago, and the remains were brought here. They'll eventually be used as a breakwater.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Monday, September 28, 1992 - Neah Bay, WA
We couldn't have had a better day for going to Neah Bay. Both the wind and the tidal current were with us, and it was sunny and fairly warm. There wasn't much wind, so we had to use the engine, but we zoomed along at close to eight knots over the ground. Left Port Angeles at 7 a.m. and arrived at Neah Bay around 3:30 p.m.
The only floats appeared to belong to a seafood company, but a man on a fishing boat said they were public floats and we could tie there. He also said there was a space on the other side of the wharf, so we went around there. Had a little difficulty docking, because the wind was blowing, and I was rushing around as usual, changing lines and fenders from port to starboard, so I wasn't ready when the boat reached the dock, and we had to make a second pass. That time, I threw the small grappling anchor and caught the dock on the first try. Also, the man who had told us we could tie up there came down and tied the bow line. We put out a lot of fenders and lines and soon were secure, but after all that work, when we went to the office, the woman said the floats were only for commercial fishing boats and we couldn't stay there. Roy asked her if we could stay for an hour or so, and she said that would be all right, so we walked to the general store and bought a few groceries. Then we moved the boat to an anchorage.
So now we're only six miles from Cape Flattery, but it looks as if we'll be stuck here for several days, as gale-force winds out of the southeast are predicted for tomorrow and Wednesday. When we were heading north, the wind was out of the north, and now that we want to go south, it's out of the south.
Neah Bay is a small village. There isn't much here, but the harbor is well-protected. All we need is patience -- and we want it right now !
By the way, the entrance to Neah Bay is between Waadah Island and Baadah Point. No kidding. If you don't believe me, look on a chart.
The only floats appeared to belong to a seafood company, but a man on a fishing boat said they were public floats and we could tie there. He also said there was a space on the other side of the wharf, so we went around there. Had a little difficulty docking, because the wind was blowing, and I was rushing around as usual, changing lines and fenders from port to starboard, so I wasn't ready when the boat reached the dock, and we had to make a second pass. That time, I threw the small grappling anchor and caught the dock on the first try. Also, the man who had told us we could tie up there came down and tied the bow line. We put out a lot of fenders and lines and soon were secure, but after all that work, when we went to the office, the woman said the floats were only for commercial fishing boats and we couldn't stay there. Roy asked her if we could stay for an hour or so, and she said that would be all right, so we walked to the general store and bought a few groceries. Then we moved the boat to an anchorage.
So now we're only six miles from Cape Flattery, but it looks as if we'll be stuck here for several days, as gale-force winds out of the southeast are predicted for tomorrow and Wednesday. When we were heading north, the wind was out of the north, and now that we want to go south, it's out of the south.
Neah Bay is a small village. There isn't much here, but the harbor is well-protected. All we need is patience -- and we want it right now !
By the way, the entrance to Neah Bay is between Waadah Island and Baadah Point. No kidding. If you don't believe me, look on a chart.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Sunday, September 27, 1992 - Port Angeles, WA
Another change in the weather. Today was totally calm, clear, sunny. We could have made it to Neah Bay, but Roy wanted to finish working on the generator, and we wanted to attend the Aquafair events. Most of them were canceled yesterday due to the wind, but today all signals were go.
At ten o'clock, we watched the Coast Guard Search and Rescue demonstration. A helicopter lifted a man out of the water. (The blast from the rotors nearly drowned him first!) Then the oil skimmer "Shearwater" and the tall ship "Lady Washington" came in and we watched them dock. At noon, we toured the Coast Guard cutter "Active"
and the "Shearwater". Both very interesting. However, when the guide on the "Active" was asked how fast ten knots is, he didn't have a clue, so I explained it.
After lunch, we toured the "Lady Washington", which is a replica of an old square-rigger. Watched a guy climb the rope ladder to the first spar. Found out the poop deck got its name from the "pupi", or images of saints, that the Genoese put on the aft railing.
At two o'clock, there was a kayak demonstration. We considered taking our Royaks, but when we saw that it was being put on by a store trying to sell its kayaks, we decided not to.
Roy figured out that the generator problem was caused by a faulty igniter, so we'll be cooking with propane until we get somewhere where we can have it fixed.
At ten o'clock, we watched the Coast Guard Search and Rescue demonstration. A helicopter lifted a man out of the water. (The blast from the rotors nearly drowned him first!) Then the oil skimmer "Shearwater" and the tall ship "Lady Washington" came in and we watched them dock. At noon, we toured the Coast Guard cutter "Active"
and the "Shearwater". Both very interesting. However, when the guide on the "Active" was asked how fast ten knots is, he didn't have a clue, so I explained it.
After lunch, we toured the "Lady Washington", which is a replica of an old square-rigger. Watched a guy climb the rope ladder to the first spar. Found out the poop deck got its name from the "pupi", or images of saints, that the Genoese put on the aft railing.
At two o'clock, there was a kayak demonstration. We considered taking our Royaks, but when we saw that it was being put on by a store trying to sell its kayaks, we decided not to.
Roy figured out that the generator problem was caused by a faulty igniter, so we'll be cooking with propane until we get somewhere where we can have it fixed.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Saturday, September 26, 1992 - Port Angeles, WA
What changeable weather! Yesterday, it was clear and sunny with a 15-knot northwest wind. This morning, it was cloudy and rainy with a southeast gale, 30 to 40 knots. This afternoon, it was clear and sunny with a northwest gale. Weird. We were very glad we were tied securely to a dock, even if the dock does jump around. The harbor was full of waves and whitecaps. If this wind keeps up, we might never get away from here.
In the morning, Roy worked on the generator and almost got it running. I walked over to Safeway and bought a few groceries. Then I packed a picnic lunch and we caught the free bus to Lake Crescent. Roy would have rather finished the work on the generator, but he very sweetly acceded to my wishes.
We walked on a very nice trail to Marymere Falls. The forest and the falls were really beautiful. We ate our lunch next to the falls and then walked back to the lodge. Strolled along the lovely lake until it was time to catch the bus back to Port Angeles.
There's a marine lab on the city pier near where we're docked. They held an Open House this afternoon, so we went to that. Saw a lot of starfish, crabs, anemones, etc.
The local Indian tribe held a salmon-bake fundraiser right outside the lab, so we bought supper there and ate it on the boat. The corn on the cob was good, but the salmon was overcooked.
In the morning, Roy worked on the generator and almost got it running. I walked over to Safeway and bought a few groceries. Then I packed a picnic lunch and we caught the free bus to Lake Crescent. Roy would have rather finished the work on the generator, but he very sweetly acceded to my wishes.
We walked on a very nice trail to Marymere Falls. The forest and the falls were really beautiful. We ate our lunch next to the falls and then walked back to the lodge. Strolled along the lovely lake until it was time to catch the bus back to Port Angeles.
There's a marine lab on the city pier near where we're docked. They held an Open House this afternoon, so we went to that. Saw a lot of starfish, crabs, anemones, etc.
The local Indian tribe held a salmon-bake fundraiser right outside the lab, so we bought supper there and ate it on the boat. The corn on the cob was good, but the salmon was overcooked.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Friday, September 25, 1992 - Port Angeles, WA
The rain finally stopped. Glorious day today! Clear and sunny, but windy and brisk. Fall is in the air, and leaves are turning colors.
I wanted to ride the bus out to Lake Crescent, but the generator isn't working again, so Roy wanted to stay on the boat and fix it. He also wanted to change the impeller, lubricate the anchor winch, replace the manual bilge pump, etc.
I told Roy I'd go price oil for him. To my amazement, I hadn't been on the bus five minutes until I saw Roy waiting at a bus stop. When he got on, he was as surprised to see me as I had been to see him. So we went to Payless together, and he bought a new watch to replace the one that broke a few weeks ago. He also bought a case of oil. There was a minor dispute over how many 20's Roy had laid on the counter. The clerk gave him change for $40, but Roy was certain he'd put down three 20's. The manager came over and counted the cash. Sure enough, it was $20 over, so the extra 20 was returned to Roy.
After we returned to the boat, Roy began working on the impeller, and I went for a walk. It was an absolutely perfect day for walking. I went out Ediz Head as far as I could go, about 4 1/2 miles. The wind was really blowing, and the surf was crashing against the rocks and throwing spray way up in the air.
When I got back to the boat, Roy was gone, so I read. He came back with a fresh haircut. He had replaced the impeller, lubricated the winch, and installed the new bilge pump, but the generator still doesn't work.
In the evening, we went to a "Campfire Talk" at the marine lab. It was somewhat disappointing. It was about testing water quality.
I wanted to ride the bus out to Lake Crescent, but the generator isn't working again, so Roy wanted to stay on the boat and fix it. He also wanted to change the impeller, lubricate the anchor winch, replace the manual bilge pump, etc.
I told Roy I'd go price oil for him. To my amazement, I hadn't been on the bus five minutes until I saw Roy waiting at a bus stop. When he got on, he was as surprised to see me as I had been to see him. So we went to Payless together, and he bought a new watch to replace the one that broke a few weeks ago. He also bought a case of oil. There was a minor dispute over how many 20's Roy had laid on the counter. The clerk gave him change for $40, but Roy was certain he'd put down three 20's. The manager came over and counted the cash. Sure enough, it was $20 over, so the extra 20 was returned to Roy.
After we returned to the boat, Roy began working on the impeller, and I went for a walk. It was an absolutely perfect day for walking. I went out Ediz Head as far as I could go, about 4 1/2 miles. The wind was really blowing, and the surf was crashing against the rocks and throwing spray way up in the air.
When I got back to the boat, Roy was gone, so I read. He came back with a fresh haircut. He had replaced the impeller, lubricated the winch, and installed the new bilge pump, but the generator still doesn't work.
In the evening, we went to a "Campfire Talk" at the marine lab. It was somewhat disappointing. It was about testing water quality.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Thursday, September 24, 1992 - Port Angeles,WA
It's a good thing we hauled out this morning; all three blades of the propeller were bent, the zinc was missing, and the nut was broken. If we'd tried to wait until we got to Richmond to haul out, we'd have had major problems. We were also lucky that a guy came by who just happened to have the right-sized nut. I'd already checked every marine-supply store in town without finding it and was thinking I'd have to rent a car and drive into Seattle to get one. So Roy was able to replace the prop and the zinc and the nut, and we were back in the water in two hours. And they only charged $127 for the haulout.
Our timing was perfect, too. We went over early in the morning when it was calm and got back just as the wind was starting to pick up. By evening, it was really blowing, and these docks were jumping all over the place, but we had plenty of lines and fenders out.
In the afternoon, we took another free bus ride about 20 miles to Lyre River Park. We thought it would be a State or County park, but it turned out to be a private RV park and campground. We strolled around for a couple of hours anyway.
When we were in Victoria, someone told us the people in Port Angeles aren't friendly to boaters. Ha! Everyone we've met so far has been as friendly and nice as can be, even the bus drivers. They couldn't be any nicer.
Our timing was perfect, too. We went over early in the morning when it was calm and got back just as the wind was starting to pick up. By evening, it was really blowing, and these docks were jumping all over the place, but we had plenty of lines and fenders out.
In the afternoon, we took another free bus ride about 20 miles to Lyre River Park. We thought it would be a State or County park, but it turned out to be a private RV park and campground. We strolled around for a couple of hours anyway.
When we were in Victoria, someone told us the people in Port Angeles aren't friendly to boaters. Ha! Everyone we've met so far has been as friendly and nice as can be, even the bus drivers. They couldn't be any nicer.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Wednesday, September 23, 1992 - Port Angeles, WA
In the morning, we walked over to the marina where the travel-lift is located to arrange for a "hanging haulout", so Roy can replace the damaged propeller. (The boat is lifted out of the water and held dangling but not placed on land.) We were going to have it done today at one o'clock, but by the time we got back to the boat, the wind was starting to blow and rain was sprinkling, so Roy phoned them and postponed the haulout until 8:30 tomorrow morning. Then we walked over to the Post Office and mailed some postcards.
The bus fare here is unbelievable -- it's FREE! For people over 65, that is. And the buses don't just run around Port Angeles; they go 30-40 or more miles out in the country, to places like Sequim and Neah Bay and even La Push! So we hopped on the first bus that came along, rode around Port Angeles, and then took the bus to Sequim (pronounced "Swim"), about 20 miles east of here. We ate a delicious lunch at a pleasant little restaurant, walked around a while, and then rode the shuttle bus around Sequim. Next, we rode out to Dungeness Bay and back. Then we took a bus to Diamond Head Point, a very scenic ride. Went past the John Wayne Marina, where he used to keep his boat. Passed Sequim Bay and went to Discovery Bay. A hundred years ago, Diamond Head was a quarantine station for immigrants from the Orient. Now it's a pleasant little community.
When we returned to Port Angeles, we stopped at Safeway for a few groceries. By then it was really pouring, so we were glad we could take the bus instead of having to walk.
The bus fare here is unbelievable -- it's FREE! For people over 65, that is. And the buses don't just run around Port Angeles; they go 30-40 or more miles out in the country, to places like Sequim and Neah Bay and even La Push! So we hopped on the first bus that came along, rode around Port Angeles, and then took the bus to Sequim (pronounced "Swim"), about 20 miles east of here. We ate a delicious lunch at a pleasant little restaurant, walked around a while, and then rode the shuttle bus around Sequim. Next, we rode out to Dungeness Bay and back. Then we took a bus to Diamond Head Point, a very scenic ride. Went past the John Wayne Marina, where he used to keep his boat. Passed Sequim Bay and went to Discovery Bay. A hundred years ago, Diamond Head was a quarantine station for immigrants from the Orient. Now it's a pleasant little community.
When we returned to Port Angeles, we stopped at Safeway for a few groceries. By then it was really pouring, so we were glad we could take the bus instead of having to walk.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Tuesday, September 22, 1992 - Port Angeles, WA
Another warm day, but a little cooler and cloudier than yesterday.
Went over to the British Columbia Records and Archives Services to see what we could find out about Swanson Bay and Butedale. There had been a pulp mill at Swanson Bay. It had been built in 1918, changed hands several times in the 20's, started going out of business in the 30's, and shut down completely in the early 40's. Didn't find out much about Butedale, except than in addition to the cannery, there had been mining and logging activities there.
After lunch, we chugged 17 miles across the strait to Port Angeles. Couldn't have had a much nicer day for it.
As soon as Roy got Customs clearance (by phone), we walked over to Safeway and restocked our grocery supply. What a difference in the vegetables and the prices!
Went over to the British Columbia Records and Archives Services to see what we could find out about Swanson Bay and Butedale. There had been a pulp mill at Swanson Bay. It had been built in 1918, changed hands several times in the 20's, started going out of business in the 30's, and shut down completely in the early 40's. Didn't find out much about Butedale, except than in addition to the cannery, there had been mining and logging activities there.
After lunch, we chugged 17 miles across the strait to Port Angeles. Couldn't have had a much nicer day for it.
As soon as Roy got Customs clearance (by phone), we walked over to Safeway and restocked our grocery supply. What a difference in the vegetables and the prices!
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