The Final Leg

There are certain spots where boats pile up waiting for a good weather window in which to continue their journey. Port Angeles is one of those places. We had left the boat on Thursday in Port Angeles while we headed home to wait for more favorable weather. We returned on Sunday, August 6th, with a forecast that showed mild NW wind and waves in the ocean on Tuesday and Wednesday. Most of the boats that had been in Port Angeles when we left were gone, and a new group of boats was stacking up waiting for the right weather.

On Sunday night, the Tuesday forecast was changed to a southwesterly, which made us decide to hold off our journey for another day. We spent an enjoyable afternoon touring Hurricane Ridge, which is in the Olympic Mountains. Hurricane Ridge is a gorgeous overlook, with spectacular views on all sides. We highly recommend it as a good place to take a drive and or a hike.

The new forecast showed the ocean wind turning to NW on Wednesday. So, we headed out on Tuesday morning for the ten hour journey to Neah Bay. Early on, there were some steep and uncomfortable waves. However, we were happy to have the current speeding us along, and felt that the waves were helping get our stomachs ready for the ocean trip.

In Neah Bay, boats were piled up waiting for the proper window to take the ocean trip. Most had left with us from Port Angeles that morning, but a few had arrived earlier, and were still waiting for their weather window. Everyone intended to head out with us the next morning. Some were planning to head straight to Astoria, others were heading 100 miles offshore for a trip down to Mexico.


The Ocean Journey

We left at 4:30 am the next morning, in the last part of darkness. By the time we reached the Straits, the sun was starting to come up. We had the current with us on our way to Tatoosh Island, at the end of the Straits. As we got closer to the ocean, we lost our visibility as fog set in. We appreciated having both our radar and AIS to "see" other nearby boats, and our chart plotter to tell us where we were.

That day was a long slog, with light westerly winds. The swell was 5-7 feet, at about nine seconds. The 7 foot waves felt large, but were far enought apart not to be too much of a problem, even on our side. We've found that the first four hours of a journey are really fun, but 17 hours gets long and boring. However, we were just so happy to be able to avoid a night out on the ocean that we didn't mind the boredom. We arrived at the Grays Harbor bar at about 8:30. We were on the end of a flood, and the crossing was a bit rocky. Once we were past the bar, the Coast Guard came out to ask us if we had been inspected recently. We've decided that they get a bit bored and inspect boats just to add some activity to their day. We were happy to tell them that we had not only been inspected recently, but that had the pleasure of a Coast Guard escort over the bar a month ago. We finally arrived at the Westport marina just as the sun finally set, at 9:30 pm. The longest leg of the ocean journey was over, and we were looking forward to a "short" trip the next day.

On Thursday, we "slept in" until 7:30 am. Given that we had a relatively short trip that day, we would have been happy to slow down a bit if it let us sail. Unfortunately, the winds were practically nonexistent, so sailing was out. We had some added fun to our day when Cory saw a huge sunfish that looked to be about 5 or 6 feet long. We saw some crabpots during the trip, but not nearly as many as on our trip up the coast.


A huge sunfish seen between Westport and the Columbia River

As we neared the Columbia River, the color of the ocean changed from a clear green to a dirty brown. The powerful river churns up so much mud that it impacts the ocean for many miles. It was an amazing sight to see.

And finally, the bar crossing. Once again, we were a bit early on crossing the bar. However, conditions were much easier than earlier in the summer, and Cory and I took turns steering the boat through to the river. We arrived in Astoria as the sun was setting, after an 11 hour journey.

On Friday, we set out from Astoria for Portland. We were planning to spend the night half way up the river, but found that we were making great time and were ready to be home that night. We decided to continue our trip home, even if we arrived well after dark. As usual, the first four hours of the trip was lots of fun. We were amazed at how flat the water on the river was. Up north, the wind and currents were always creating some sort of waves, even on windless days. As the tidal changes on the Columbia are substantially less, and it doesn't have such long straight stretches, waves don't get a chance to build. The result is a much mellower journey. I even made pancakes in the morning while underway!

While in BC, we had seen very little wildlife - a few deer, rabbits, and other small creatures. While on the river, we saw a cougar on shore. It was pretty far away, but, through the binoculars, it looked incredibily powerful. It's funny that we had to be so near civilization to see a truly wild creature.


Sunset by the mouth of the Willamette River

We arrived at the railway bridge just after dark. It was so nice to be on a familiar stretch of river, and home at last. My parents had dropped off our car and gave us a good welcome.

It's a bit of a transition from living on the boat to home. Over the last few years, with many boat projects and trips, the boat and marinas have become our life. Our social life and interests are at the boat rather than at home. We find that we are spending lots of time at the boat, and plan to continue to do so. We love the beauty of the water, and the exilaration of a good sail. However, it is also time to turn our attention to a sorely neglected house. In the next month, the house will be repaired and painted, and interior remodeling projects will be scheduled. And, of course, we must spend significant time working to make up for all the time we took of this summer.

This summer was a great learning experience, and we are very happy that we accomplished it. It was often more of an adventure than a vacation, and brought as much stress as fun times. But, it has whetted our appetite for more journeys, and we intend to continue our exploration of the inside passage and northern waterways in future years. It was fun to know that our friends and family were reading our blog, and we enjoyed hearing back from those of you who read it.

Heading South

Heriot Bay

After Gorge Harbour, we went to Rebecca Spit, at Quadra Island, and spent a peaceful afternoon at anchor. For the evening, we headed to a marina, and an evening meal at the local Heriot Bay Inn. It rained for a short time, but the wind was minimal, which was a nice change. From there, we headed for Campbell River, which is about halfway up Vancouver Island. In Campbell River, we rented a car and drove up to Port Hardy to see what we were missing. We found that driving in a car was boring after spending several weeks on a boat! Boats go much slower, but the scenery is always spectacular, and there are always navigational challenges to keep our attention. While we enjoyed the change, we were happy to head back to the boat at the end of the day.

From Campbell River, it was time to head south. On our trip up, we traveled up the west coast of the mainland after leaving Nanaimo. For the trip down, we decided to explore the east coast of Vancouver Island, and stayed several nights in Comox. After Comox, it was time for a night in crowded Nanaimo. We were afraid that the rest of the trip would continue to be filled with crowds of boats and people. Fortunately, we picked Silva Bay for our next stop. Silva Bay, which is on the east side of Gabriola Island, was beautiful, calm, and seemed a world apart from busy city life.

Our challenge after leaving Silva Bay was to head through Active Pass, which is another "gateway" in the Gulf Islands. Once again, the guidebooks offered many warnings about currents and ferry traffic. We entered just before slack, and found it to be a fairly easy passage. We were helped by our AIS, which picks up signals transmitted from commercial vessels, including ferries. These signals show up on our chart plotter, and tell us the position, heading, name, and speed of each vessel. We have found this to be much more useful than radar, which only shows a blob on the screen, and does not see around corners. Therefore, as we entered the channel, we were able to "watch" any nearby ferries on our chart plotter, even if they were around the corner and not visible.

Even with charts, it can be hard to see the rocks at high tide!


Our final night in Canada was spent anchored at Pender Island. We've discovered that if we plan carefully, we can find uncrowded anchorages, even at the high season for visiting boats. People tend to visit specific favorite places, and the masses leave places such as Port Browning at Pender Island alone.

Finally, it was time to clear customs at Roche Harbor, or "Bug Bay", as we call it. We found this to be a completely different experience than our reentry to the US two years ago, as our customs agent was much less concerned about petty details. Roche Harbor was filled with weekending US boaters, which are a different breed than the boaters that explore the Gulf Islands and Desolation Sound. Although the facilities are beautiful, we find that we never meet anyone at the marina, and feel somewhat alien to the other boaters. There are several beautiful bays nearby - next time we'll anchor out there instead of visiting Roche Harbor.

We took Mosquito Pass as we left Roche Harbor. It was fairly narrow, but well marked. The guide books warn that it is somewhat tricky, but after transiting much narrower unmarked entrances up north, it was nice and easy.

We reached Port Angeles that afternoon. The wind was light, so we were unable to sail for long, but our trip was fast as we had current with us for the entire way. We decided to head home for a few days before heading to Neah Bay and out to the ocean. We've learned that we don't like waiting on the boat for a good weather window--it wastes too much time.

As we were about to head out of town on Thursday, we had a phone call from Donna DeMeyer, my dad's cousin's daughter. (I just call her my cousin!) She and John, her husband, were returning from Barkely Sound, and would reach Port Angeles late that afternoon. What a coincidence! We know a number of people and boats up north, but they seem to be the boat we consistently cross paths with. It was too good of a chance to miss, so we decided to wait to see them in before heading home that evening.

We are now at home, and have decided that there is a reasonable weather window on Tuesday. We'll head back to Port Angeles tomorrow (Sunday), and travel to Neah Bay on Monday. Assuming that the forecast holds, we will head out onto the ocean on Tuesday, and probably reach Westport late Tuesday night. Alternatively, we may decide to head straight through to Astoria.

Waiting it out in Gorge Harbour

We left Desolation Sound yesterday and arrived in Gorge Harbour on Cortes Island. After two nights at anchor (the second a little windy, with more wind in the forecast), we decided a night at a dock would be nice. Well, the forecast for a little wind changed into a whole lot of wind, and then into a gale warning (which is way more than a whole lot of wind). Most of the boats up here right now are holed up until things moderate a little, where we were planning to go next we could still probably make it to, but the direction and strength of the wind makes it nearly impossible to get out of the dock we are at without a very exciting game of bumper-boats, and since we're comfy and protected here, we're staying put.

We've taken the opportunity to explore the island some. We hiked over to "Whale Town" today, which consisted of a general store which is closed while its being remodeled, a cafe which was closed with no posted hours, a library open Fridays 1:30 to 3:30, a post office open only Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons, and the tiny church pictured above. So much for town. There's a very nice restaurant up the way which we've had lunch at, but dinner at $35+ Canadian comes out to, eh... $35+ American. Maybe next time.

We're doing a lot of reading, watched some movies on the laptop (thanks Dave), and fortunately can hop onto the marina's wireless internet connection to keep ourselves occupied. If we are still here tomorrow we're going to try to hitchhike (Nancy for some reason is really excited about this - the harbour master says thats how a lot of people get around here) to the other side of the island where they are having a music festival this weekend.

Desolation Sound

After leaving Lund, we were off to Prideaux Bay in Desolation Sound. The first thing we noticed as we turned the corner and passed Sara Point was the large steep mountains going down to the edge of the water. Absolutely beautiful! The Gulf Islands are pretty, but the scenery isn't majestic as it is in Desolation Sound. Also, few houses, with none in Prideaux Bay.

Prideaux Bay was packed with boats, but not nearly as many as in the Gulf Islands. In between rain showers, we spent the next several days kayaking and exploring the wonderful bays, nooks and crannies, and nearby islands. Once we spent time exploring the area, we were amazed at how many boats were there. The motor boats were especially creative in finding nooks to tie up in as their draft (depth) is usually only a few feet (ours is about 6 1/2 feet). We envied them their ability to find private corners, especially when the 80 foot motor boat near us left their generator on for the whole day, spoiling the peacefulness of the anchorage.

Prideaux Bay was remarkably protected. During our explorations, we noticed that Melanie Cove, which looked more protected than Prideaux Bay, had gusts of wind rushing down the mountains and spinning in circles around the bay. However, we did get some wind the second day, and a boat that had anchored too closely to us were force to move when our boat danced too closely to it--the last boat to anchor is generally the first to move.

Anchoring for us and for many people is both an act of planning and an act of chance. You look around the crowded anchorage for the best place to set your anchor. In between going to where you want to anchor and actually setting the anchor, you usually drift several boat lengths. In Prideaux Bay, we were anchoring in 50 feet of water. This meant that, according to the books, we should have been letting out about 200 to 250 feet of anchor rode. However, given the crowded nature of the anchorages, we were lucky to let out 3:1, or 150 feet. The combination of 150 feet of anchor rode and drifting several boat lengths while anchoring meant that you never quite end up where you planned to be. Because of this, we tried to be tolerant of people who we felt anchored too closely to us, as well as hoping that others were tolerant of us. Fortunately, we were well protected from the wind the first night, so we got a good sleep. The second day was less rainy, but had wind coming down from the mountains that tested our trust in our anchoring with limited scope out.


It's been cooler up here than earlier in our trip, and has rained for a good portion of the time. We're pretty sure that it rained about five inches the first night. We heard that this has been an unusually rainy and windy summer. The wind is great when we want to sail, but not so great when we are trying to sleep.

Beautiful Pender Harbour to the Lund Zoo

Across the Georgia Straits to Pender Harbour
Our trip across the Georgia Straits to Pender Harbour was calm and uneventful. We were only able to sail for a short while before motoring again. Pender Harbour, which bills itself as the "Venice of the West" was lovely. We tied up at an old-style resort, complete with ping-pong tables, a swimming pool, a small store, and kayaks for rent. We took our kayaks and paddled several miles around the harbor to the "town" (it had a grocery store, cafe, liquor store, and a few other businesses), and hiked up the hill to the Grasshopper Pub, which had a wonderful view of a portion of the harbor. We then kayaked over to an Ericson 38 anchored nearby, and spent some time talking to the owner, exchanging notes about Ericsons and traveling north. Owning a boat from the same manufacturer is always a great way to make a new friend. We haven't yet found anyone who knows as much about Ericsons as Cory, and I don't think we will! Then back to our peaceful and beautiful marina, which was tucked inside a nook in the harbor. Our arms sure got a workout!


Lund Marina (aka "the zoo")
Our next stop, Lund, was only a few hours away. Lund is a jumping off point into Desolation Sound and was an absolute zoo. The marina had two long docks and a separate floating breakwater. The boats were tied lengthwise to the dock, and up to two additional boats were rafted (tied) to the boat attached to the dock. The harbormaster's assistant was going to have us raft up to another boat. In front of that boat, there were three boats rafted together, and behind it, there were two boats. We were going to have to line up and move directly sideways into our spot. Needless to say, sailboats don't move sideways, and we were not excited about attempting this maneuver. I spotted an empty spot on the floating breakwater. This is a secondary dock because you have to use a dinghy to get to shore. We decided that we'd rather row to shore than try to make our boat do impossible maneuvers. After an easy docking, we spent the rest of the afternoon watching boats move in and out of the marina, with the one marina staff member assisting every boat to dock. In the early evening, we ended up with two boats rafted up to us. While the people were reasonably friendly, its not our favorite way to spend an evening, and we'll probably avoid Lund in the future.

Nanaimo and Newcastle Island

We got up at 5 am on Friday to make the Dodd Narrows passage at slack tide. This was the first real "gateway" that we had to pass through. These are extremely narrow passages that have a lot of water going through. For Dodd Narrows, up to 9 knots of current could occur at maximum flood or ebb tides. We hit it a bit early, so we had a few knots of current against us, but had no problems going through. I was a bit nervous after reading all of the guide books, which really try to scare you. However, Dodd Narrows is very short, with no obstructions, and we planned ahead. After the Columbia Bar, it was a cakewalk!

We decided to spend the first night on Newcastle Island, which is across the bay from Nanaimo. The boats were so tightly anchored that we tied up at the docks. After breakfast, we took a ferry to Nanaimo to shop and explore the town a bit. Then it was back to the boat, where we inflated our kayaks and enjoyed a paddle to a neighboring island, where the Dinghy Dock Pub is located.

On Saturday morning at 6:45 am, we woke up to someone yelling, "hey, that's not your boat!" Several intoxicated guys had boarded someone's boat and tried to take their dinghy. As it was firmly attached to the side of the boat, they didn't succeed. Instead, the owner woke up and chased them off the boat. They next tried to steal a dinghy from a neighboring boat. All of the people on the neighboring boats were roused with the yelling, and the thieves were pushed into the water. Strong words were spoken, and it looked like a fight was about the break out. The thieves finally decided to swim for the next island as they were vastly outnumbered. There they stole a boat and headed for Nanaimo. The last we heard, the police had picked them up and had them in custody. Needless to say, there was much excitement and adrenalin at the docks, and nobody got any more sleep. Fortunately, no one was hurt, and no one lost their dinghy. We were glad that our "dinghy" is our kayaks, and our "engine" is our paddles. That is much less tempting for anyone to steal.

We've now spent a few days in Nanaimo, regrouping, organizing the boat, and provisioning for the trip to Desolation Sound. We'll leave tomorrow for that portion of our trip.

Galiano Island and the Hummingbird Pub Bus

This past week has been a blur. We left Victoria on Wednesday morning and headed for Galiano Island, which is one of the Gulf Islands. We actually were able to sail a good portion of the way, as the wind was fantastic. It was good to spend time re-learning how to sail. Montague Harbor, a bay at Galiano, was packed with over 100 boats. We anchored much closer to other boats than we preferred. Fortunately, there was very little wind all night, so we were able to sleep well.

The next day, we kayaked to shore and explored the Island. It has a beautiful park, with trails, a campground, and beaches where many children were playing. Cory's highlight of the day was taking the Hummingbird Pub Bus. The bus was very old, with a driver that was quick-witted and had everyone in fits of laughter. He changed hats at least three times during the drive and had all of the passengers singing "Blueberry Hill". As he said, he has been driving the bus for 16 years, but has only driven well for three weeks!

Oh Canada!

We are on vacation at last! On Monday, we left Port Angeles and headed for Victoria. It was a nice short trip...only four hours. We tried to remember how to sail at first, but were forced to motor for most of the trip once the wind died. We are moored in front of the Empress hotel, which is very entertaining. Right now I am listening to a street entertainer captivate a crowd. He seems to draw crowds all day long! The entertainment, with music, acrobatics, street vendors, etc, goes from about nine or ten in the morning until eleven at night. It has been a welcome treat, but we are thinking that we'll head to the Gulf Islands next and anchor in a quiet bay. :)

We made it at last!

Written July 3, 10:30 am

We finally reached Neah Bay yesterday, after a 21 hour rattleless and crabpot free journey. Neah Bay has never looked so beautiful! Now, I'm sitting in the cockpit as I write this and Cory is enjoying relaxing on the bow as we head towards Port Angeles.

The ocean journey was mild and uneventful. However, we agree that night journeys on the ocean are not our favorite part of boating, and should be avoided whenever possible. During the night, when you are convinced that fifteen minutes have passed, you can be relatively confident that at least five minutes have gone by. And those flashing lights out there. Are they marking a fishing net? Or are they crabpots? We just stayed miles away.

The good news is that we were crab pot free all night. The only "crab pots" we saw flew away before we had too many heart attacks.

Today, the Straits of Juan de Fuca are unusually calm. The sunshine is peeking through the clouds and the Olympic mountains look spectacular. We'll cover close to 60 miles today in about 10-12 hours. In the meantime, we're letting the autopilot steer, while we read, relax, and check around us every few minutes. We're heading back to Portland tomorrow for a few days. Then, it's back to the boat, and time to head for Canada.

Beautiful Westport

Just a quick update, we are still in Westport (after a few days in Portland) trying to resolve the rattling problem. Its probably nothing serious, but we are hesitant to continue North until its identified and resolved. While trying to diagnose it while playing in the bar here, we noticed the raw water pump on the engine was leaking (interior carbon bearing is worn). Its totally fixable, but does add to the list, and will probably include a field trip to Seattle to get the part.

UPDATE: The waterpump turned out to be the cause of the very loud rattle we were hearing, not missing Risk game pieces as some had surmised. We were greatly relieved to find it, as motoring is now much more relaxing without the horrible noise, and the problem would have turned serious sooner rather than later had we not found it and fixed it.

Landmines of the Sea

Well, we finally made it out of Astoria last Thursday morning for our long delayed trip up the coast. The seas were initially a little rougher than we preferred, but mellowed a bit as we made our way North.

Everything was going fine until about 11PM at night, about halfway between Astoria and Neah Bay, when we heard a loud clunk. Against all odds, we had managed to drive the boat perfectly between a pair of crab pot floats and had them firmly wrapped around our rudder. We immediately put the engine in neutral and tried to untangle ourselves to no avail. Fortunately, the floats had somehow missed our propeller, so we had no engine damage, however, with the line wrapped so tightly around the rudder we could only turn about 1/2 the normal radius (and it was possible it might get worse). This was fine for where we were, and we were in no immediate distress, but we didn't want to risk the entrance to the Straights of Juan de Fuca, which can be a little bumpy, in our now impaired state.

We contacted the Coast Guard and informed them of our intent to proceed to Grays Harbor, which was about 40 miles behind us. We proceeded to Grays Harbor at substantially less than full speed to reduce the loads on the rudder, and hand steered instead of using the autopilot, which is pretty tiring. We made the entrance to the harbor at about sunrise, and the Coast Guard sent out a boat to escort us in through the bar, in case our situation suddenly deteriorated. Once inside the bar, the Coast Guard tied us up along side to tow us into the marina, as we didn't feel we were manueverable enough to get in by ourselves.

Our compliments to the Coast Guard, they were polite and courteous, and as far as we're concerned a good use of tax dollars.

Even tied up to the dock, and Nancy going around the boat with the kayak we were not able to unsnare the line and floats. We had a diver come out to the boat yesterday to free us of the now many times cursed floats, and to check for any damage to the boat. It took him about 10 minutes to cut us free, and he could find no damage.

So, we are going to take the time in Westport to try to find and fix a very loud rattle that we first noticed at the start of this trip. It only happens at close to full speed and in waves. It makes it impossible to sleep at night, and difficult to use the VHF radio below decks when underway... fortunately we had a good quality handheld that we could use to keep in touch with the Coast Guard throughout the night.

The Successful Failure

We woke up Friday morning, raring to head north to Neah Bay. We put the boat in reverse to head out at about 7:30 am. Nothing happened! Cory immediately decided that our whole trip was off because something was wrong with the engine. We were relieved when we finally realized that the tide was too low, and with a 6'3" draft, we were aground. We had known that this could be a problem, but as we were leaving well before low tide, had assumed that it wouldn’t impact us. So, after several attempts to power out, we finally gave up and headed to the famous Astoria Pig ‘n Pancake for a good breakfast. We were finally able to leave our slip at about 9:30 am, two hours after our planned departure time.

Our goal in leaving at 7:30 was to leave slightly before low tide. That way, the tide would sweep us out the 13 miles to the Columbia bar, and it would be slack tide when we were in the bar itself. This can be one of the most dangerous bars in the world if you cross it at the wrong time, so it is essential to pay attention and time your crossing.

We were happy to see that although we left after the water had risen in our marina, we still had the ebb tide with us. Several miles from the bar, we finally had current against us, slowing us down a bit. However, it was a beautiful day, and when we finally entered the bar, conditions were still fairly calm, allowing us to take a few pictures. The picture above is the Cape Disappointment lighthouse. We saw dolphins near us, which seemed like a good omen for the trip.

The forecast for Friday included NW winds of 10-20 knots, with a 5 foot swell from the west at 9 seconds, and 2-4 foot wind waves. Although this was a bit lumpy, we had decided that we could handle this. Once we got past the jetty, we realized how "lumpy" this really was. We were going north into the wind, and had the waves coming at us mostly from the front. This is called "bashing" and is a very uncomfortable way to make a trip. The good news was that the boat handled it fairly well. Our 450 pound tractor engine seemed to enjoy the challenge, never lugging down, just thumping along happily through the waves. We, on the other hand, were being tossed around. The waves were steep. A few times, the boat caught air, and we could hear the loud crash as the bow of the boat hit the water. Then there were the times that a wave came over the bow of the boat. If it hadn’t been for the dodger, the helmsman would have been really wet! The apparent wind was 25-30 knots (probably 20-25 knots true), higher than predicted, and average boat speed over ground was only 4 knots.

Shortly after turning the boat north, Cory the most seasoned member of our crew, decided that this wasn’t going to work. We had to turn around. We were going slower than expected, and he wasn’t sure if we had enough fuel, we were going to reach the entrance to the Straits at the wrong time, making the crossing potentially really nasty, and this was just too hard on us for such a long period of time. However, we both were so anxious to head north, that against his better judgement, we decided to continue our trip. It’s so hard to make a judgement like this. Turning around means failure, that we didn’t have the right stuff for the journey. Going, means a long nasty journey, but when it was over, it would feel so great!

So, we kept heading north. After a few hours, however, we both realized that this was two much for us. With only two people on board what felt like a washing machine on spin cycle, neither of us were going to get any sleep. The current and the waves were slowing us down so much that it was going to take us over 40 hours to make it to Neah Bay. Crossing into the Straits would include steep waves and a strong current against us. There was the possibility that we would run out of fuel prior to finishing our trip. It was time to pack it in, admit failure, and head back to Astoria.

Right before we turned around, I heard a quiet clanking noise. The pin holding the anchor to the boat had been shoved out of position by the waves and had been lost! The windlass was holding the chain in place at the moment, but someone had to go to the bow to tie down the anchor and make sure that it wasn’t released. We turned around and immediately everything calmed down. Wow, what a difference. With the wind and waves behind us, the apparent wind was less than 20 knots, and we were surfing the waves instead of bashing into them. We could do this! Cory attached himself to the jack lines tied to the boat, and headed up to the bow to tie down the anchor.

After that, we just had to wait out the next 6 hours until low tide, when we could cross the bar safely again. It was a pleasant day, and the wind and waves moderated for a time, and at several points I was really frustrated that we hadn’t kept going. However, the entry to the bar made me realize that turning around was the right thing to do. Although we tried to time our entry, it was the worst bar crossing Cory and I have ever made. The waves were steep and coming at us from two directions. Cory was at the wheel, and had to fight to keep the boat on the right course. The waves kept trying to turn us to the side. The current was against us, so it took us at least an hour to go through the worst of this. The good news is that the rudder is deep, so even through we were going over high, steep waves, we always had control of the boat. After we finally made it through, Cory was exhausted. I took over the wheel. Even then, I found steering to take a lot of energy. The currents were intent on grabbing the rudder, and I had to work to keep it in place. When we finally rounded buoy 14, we were able to relax a bit, and put up a sail to help us out. We finally got into our slip at around 10 pm, over 12 hours after leaving the marina.

We slept in on Saturday, and generally took it easy. Our bodies were depleted, utterly exhausted. For a time out on the ocean, we decided that we aren’t cut out for this life. It wasn’t fun. We just wanted to be on shore. It wasn’t worth it. After a day of rest, our spirits are much higher, and we feel good about our experience. Although it was a disappointment to be back in Astoria, we were so happy to be out of the ocean. The boat handled very well and was reliable. We made the right decision to head back, but we got lots of good experience in handling difficult conditions. We were glad that we stayed out for 12 hours because it made us confident that our decision to come in had been correct. We came back safe and sound. This was a very successful failure.

Give it another try...

We're going to catch the bus to Astoria this evening, and hope to get the boat into saltier water at first light tomorrow morning.

If anyones curious, you can get ocean forecasts at
http://www.wunderground.com/MAR/wam.html. They are the same as the official NOAA forecasts, but its a better interface I think. Friday and Saturday have a little more wind on our nose (10-20kts NW) than I'd prefer, but the swells (4-6 ft) are pretty manageable. This is the best we've seen in the last week and a half.

Assuming all goes well, we'll probably be incommunicado until Sunday evening or Monday when we reconnect with "civilization". Theres not much of anything between Astoria and Port Angeles (or Victoria). We'll probably put in to Neah Bay Saturday afternoon, but while they have great marina facilities and strawberry waffles, thats about it.

Astoria or bust

They say that sailing is an activity with long periods of boredom interspersed with moments of sheer terror. I wouldn't say that has been our experience this week, but "hurry up and wait" has been part of the adventure. We found that once we got into Astoria, we were exhausted. So, at first we were really happy to wait for a weather window. The weather has been fairly nice - just a little rain at night. We took the trolley across town (or as we call it, the "twolley"), walked for miles and miles each day, searched for wi-fi connections, visited the boat supply store at least twice a day, and tried to finish our preparations in a reasonably leasurely manner. It was just a pleasure to be a bit more relaxed than at home, not having 101 different things to focus on. As Cory mentioned, we took the boat out yesterday to see what we could break. We had about 20 knots of wind, and the waves were nice and steep, so we felt like we were able to gain further trust in the boat's ability to handle ocean conditions. (Nothing broke, not even us!)

And as to the famous noise, athough I like Alyssa's idea that the cats left a present for us, we decided that the noise is a sympathetic vibration coming from the wooden structure around the engine, and are confident that it is not from the engine itself. We've tighted up the screws, and the noise does seem to be a bit more restrained. So, we're comfortable with taking the boat in the ocean.

The photo above is a picture of the boat in the marina in Astoria. (The dingy isn't ours.) Both we and the boat are looking forward to moving on to our next adventure. In the meantime, we're taking a short break and heading back to Portland to do a bit of work and pass the time until the planets align and we can take our ocean journey.

A link to our photo album for this trip... http://picasaweb.google.com/nrjlee/SVBalancingAct2007TripNorth

To Be Continued...

Due to a convergence of minor events, we didn't make it out of Astoria yesterday. :(

We did make it out for a nice day sail in very windy and lumpy conditions though and the boat and us held together just fine... it was the most wind/waves we've seen in this boat, and was good practice for us.

The weather is forecasted to be a bit messy for the weekend, at least for the first ocean trip for us on this boat, but things look good mid next week, so we are going to catch the bus back to Portland tomorrow, finish up some work projects we both left unfinished, and hopefully get out next week. We are really sick of Astoria at this point, and are both a little disappointed that things didn't work out for us to escape this week.

Wild Blue Yonder

We're going to cross the bar tomorrow (Thursday). I think we've resolved most of the problems we encountered on the river on the way down, and by tomorrow the navy flotilla headed for the Rose festival and their security zones (how can you have a 1 mile security zone in a channel only 600 yards across???) will have passed.

Our free wifi that we had yesterday at the marina has mysteriously disappeared today, so we're at the library, mostly catching up on a little bit of work. Argh.

The mad dash...

It has been a crazy year, and the craziness didn't stop until we left town on Sunday. As most of you know, we purchased Balancing Act, an Ericson 35 Mark III, just over a year ago. After looking at numerous boats made by a number of manufacturers (honestly, we did!) we decided that the boat for us was an Ericson 35. Just enough boat, but not too much, with nice lines, and reports that it sailed well. We spent about five months looking for one on the west coast - all the brokers kept telling us that E35 owners just don't want to sell their boats. We finally found a 1984 Mark III for sale in Alameda, CA. Cory drove down to CA that day, called me and said "she sails like a dream!" That was it-we had to have her. We knew that it needed some work, but figured we'd have it all done in a few months. Well, as one friend told me, all boats are projects. We finally made it into the marina after three months in the boatyard, and have been working every spare moment on the boat since that time. Balancing Act is now a new old boat.

Cory was hoping to get out of town in Mid-May. We were pretty happy to make it out on Sunday, June 3rd. We finished up most of the boat and work chores by Thursday, and spent Friday and Saturday provisioning the boat and getting the house ready for the housesitter. Provisioning the boat was an truly surprising experience. We kept bringing more food, clothing, and boat parts to the boat, and kept finding places to put everything. How can such a small space hold so much stuff? Balancing Act is 35'7" long, and 11'3" wide (in the widest spot). She has a reasonable amount of storage space, but not as much as some boats of the same size. However, everything we brought to the boat seemed to magically disappear. We loved our E32, but this boat is just the perfect size.

We decided not to rush leaving on Sunday, and spent a few more hours trying to make the house presentable for Amber, our housesitter. (Can't let those cats get lonely!) I'm afraid that the house has been neglected recently, although we really tried (we worked on the house until 2 am Saturday night), we appreciate her willingness to deal with imperfection. Thank you Amber!

We finally made it out of the marina about 1:30 on Sunday, and decided to head to St. Helens. The boat handled beautifully, but we heard a worrying rattling noise. As a master mechanic (ok, just an inexperience grease monkey), I decided that it was the bolts on the propeller shaft hitting other bolts - we'd had this problem early on. So, we kept the engine speed below maximum until we reached St. Helens. As Cory (at 6'2" tall) can't fit into the space required to reach the propeller shaft, I had the pleasure (I mean the pain) of wedging my body into a small space, with my head, arms, and shoulders jammed between the waterlift muffler and the sides of the engine compartment. The propeller was below me, and I couldn't lean on it, so I leaned on my hands on the floor around it. After about 15 minutes of inspecting the bolts while moaning every now and then (Cory is great with the sympathy), we finally decided that it probably wasn't the bolts. I managed to wiggle my way out of the hoses and boards wrapped lovingly around me without too much blood loss. After some thought, we decided to head on to Astoria the next day and troubleshoot the problem prior to heading out to the ocean.

Cory and I are notorious for not being able to go to bed at night and having great difficulty at getting up in the morning. Well, on the boat we don't seem to have that problem. We left St. Helens at 5:30 am and made it to Astoria by 2 pm. The tide was with us, so we made good time. On a 35 foot sailboat, that means 7.5 to 9 nautical miles per hour. I believe that a nautical miles is 1.15 miles per hour (or the other way around), so, as they say, it is the journey that matters, not the destination. It was so wonderful to be on the river again. The wind was always on our nose, so we didn't get to sail. But, that was OK. The water was fairly calm, the weather was great, and Balancing Act is a joy to be on. We kept the engine at full throttle, and worked on troubleshooting the rattle. We finally decided that it isn't coming from the engine. We think that either a board is rattling or one of the tools that got lost in a secret space on the boat (she has many of those) is letting us know it is there. We will try to track it down, but as the engine seems to be working perfectly, we plan to head out of Astoria early Thursday morning.

We are so excited to be heading on this trip and appreciate everyone who put up with our busy schedule for the past year. We don't expect this trip to be completely relaxing - we are on a boat after all! But, we are already enjoying being able to use the boat, not just work on it. We will spend some time working in the next month, but will be able to focus on having an adventure.

The ocean journey will take about 30 hours. It's nice that we have made this trip before. We still are a bit nervous before heading out into the big green sea, but that is OK. It is important to respect this great body of water. Our first stop will be Neah Bay, where we will probably sleep for about 12 hours. Then, it's off to Victoria, and good-bye to the US for a few months. We'll be sure to give you updates on our adventures, and try to include a few photos every now and then.