Relying on the Kindness of Strangers

Michael Calabrese became famous for attempting to outrun hurricane Irene, anchoring off a lee shore, taking a nap during the storm, ending up on the beach, and having 'someone' set his boat on fire.  Then, he was arrested for various charges, including defecating in a police car.  Now, some angel has bought him a new boat at an auction.


http://www.wtkr.com/news/wtkr-michael-calabrese-gets-a-new-boat-new-look-at-life-20111214,0,333122.story


On one hand, I can understand how some folks don't always deal with the crap that life can toss at us.  The whole "walk a mile in his shoes and see how you handle his life" reminds me that I don't have all the answers and I'm not done growing up.

On the other hand, there were many times in my life, when it may have been convenient for people to just give me things so I could "get a new look on life."

But they didn't.  I had no angel that just gave me stuff and solved my problems.  I had to deal with my baggage myself.  I had to take responsibility for my own baggage, my own mistakes.  I had to carry it, find a way to lighten my load, and try to trim my own shit down to a package that can fit in the overhead bin of life.  I haven't done too bad.  The baggage was mine but, you know, the lessons are mine too.  I earned them.  

When I've needed it most, sometimes people have helped carry my baggage, but it was always mine and it always landed back on *my* shoulders.  

I don't resent that someone gave this guy a boat, but I do recognize that, unless he owns his own stuff, he will be one of the driftwood human beings in our society, a modern day Blanche from A Streetcar Named Desire, always relying on the kindness of strangers and never taking responsibility for himself or his actions.

New Cushions

We have been waiting a year for this.  The cushions weren't as much an issue to me as they were to Kerry.  I was more focused on the systems.  She is more focused on comfort and beauty. I like comfort and beauty so, this is a good match.

The original cushions were pretty beat.  Not only were they less than beautiful, they were also very worn.  The foam was completely bottomed out.  The best recipe for an ass that is completely asleep is to sit on the salon cushions for about thirty minutes.

The old beige cushions.

As you can see, they weren't that bad, but they look better than they are.

It was a long process.  The first company we called ended up being this distracted (took a phone call from another customer while measuring our boat) guy who blew us away with his estimate.

It was $8,000.

What?

Oh, oops, he made a math mistake.  It's really $6,700 instead.

And does that include the 15% materials discount.

Oh, he forgot that too.

Sorry, see ya.  Mistakes or trying to take us on the cost; it's the same difference to us.

So we called Pam at Vashon Portage Canvas.  We saw her work at the Boats Afloat show back in September.  Pam came out, measured the boat and provided us with a real reasonable estimate.  We had a lot of discussion on the right foam and fabric.  Bob Perry, the designer of the boat suggested we go with different colors for the base and the back.  We decided to try that out and found a combination that we liked.  Kerry loves rich colors and I see no reason not to indulge her.

First she stopped by with just the foam, to make sure it all fit.

Kerry is very happy...new foam!

Then we waited for her to complete the fabric.  It arrived today.

We chose a burgandy faux leather for the bases and a red/orange/gold material for the backs.  We ended up spending quite a bit on the fabric to get the hightest quality (durability/stain resistance) we could.  We think it's worth it.

The starboard sette in the main salon.

The port sette.

Note the buttons.  We decided to use the base fabric for the buttons on the backs.  It turned out great.

The chart table.

All in all I think we are going to be very happy with this.  The foam is perfect.  It doesn't bottom out at all. It's very comfy.  While the fabric is not your usual beige/blue we have seen on so many boats, it really works in the teak interior of Brigadoon.

Thanks to Bob Perry for his suggestions, to Pam for the work, and to Kerry for her inspiration and drive around this project.  Now we feel like we can really entertain in comfort and style.

One Year with my Princess on Brigadoon

My princess moved onto a boat with me one year ago.

I call her my princess as our little joke because, in very many ways, she is very comfort oriented. She is not into camping, hiking, etc.

Yet, one year ago, we closed on Brigadoon.

A few days later, we spent out first night aboard.




All I had to do was figure out how to keep things comfy and cozy.




Since then, Brigadoon has been our only home. Kerry has taken sailing lessons on her own and learned to pilot Brigadoon.  She's darn good at it too.  Best first mate evah!



She's helped me work on systems, upgrade the upholstery (it comes this week, we think) and order new sails. She has been through a few challenging things, here and there but, for a princess, she's pretty damn happy on this boat.

And, it makes a great prop for Halloween.  May I introduce Granwel O'Malley, the pirate queen of Ireland.




I couldn't be more fortunate or more happy.

Life does not suck on a boat. 

One Year (Kerry's view)

Most of the time Donn writes about our adventures and his musings on our life on the boat.  Today I feel like chiming in a bit.

One year ago today, we closed on Brigadoon, were handed the keys and motored the short distance from the broker's dock to our new home.  Life since then has been nothing short of amazing.  Let me list the ways...

1. Simplifying and purging my belongings down to what I *really* need and want has helped me get really clearheaded about my spending habits and shunning clutter.
2. I thought I would miss some of the creature comforts of a land-based home more than I do.
3. Adventure on a boat can be found anywhere from sailing through 6 foot waves in Puget Sound, to losing our engine a little too close to the shipping lanes, to simply waking up in the middle of a windstorm at the "safety" of our own dock.
4. I truly think our boat is one of the most beautiful environments I've ever lived in.
5. I have been learning - and will continue to learn how to be the best sailing crew I possibly can.
6. Entertaining guests in such a small cozy space yields wonderful conversations and fellowship.
7. I am constantly in awe of our amazing view and the nature that surrounds us, even in the heart of our city.
8. I am also constantly in awe of the skills Donn has and continues to collect around fixing and maintaining our boat.  I know Brigadoon will be well cared for and become even more beautiful over time as he and I continue to update her and keep her running smoothly.
9. Since selling most of my physical library of books, I am slowly adding to my new digital library on my Kindle.  I love my evenings reading on the boat!
10. As Tom Petty would say... "the future is wide open".

That last one is in some ways the most important.  This past year we have started forming and discussing our future.  A future made possible because of Brigadoon and what she can offer us in terms of travel and adventure.  I feel like my focus has gotten really specific, my priorities have subtly shifted, and my objectives are clear and bright.  It's a really good and satisfying feeling.

I'm looking forward to what year two has in store for us.  More trips and adventures, more upgrades, and continuing to value and cherish this life I get to share with my incredible Captain and Love.

Home...

The glassy waters of Lake Union reflect the lights of the city.
They reflect my dreams.
Long ago, I drew pictures of a sailing craft that I would build,
to sail away.
Those dreams were slain, silent, in the indifference of my family, of my then love.

Today, I live in a yacht there that is possible.
Where I can sail the whole world if it is my desire.
I am grateful for that.
For my dreams.
In Reality.
Today.

The wakes of passing boats gently rock my Brigadoon.
Reminding me of the bosom of the waters that cradle me.

It is home.
With my love,  it is home.

"Allowed...." Allowed!

Disclaimer: Yes, I know everyone should read every word of every document from every company from which it is received. Sometimes we don't.

So a "friend" of mine found the following in his boat insurance policy:

"It is warranted that a USCG licensed captain must be aboard your yacht whenever it is being operated and whose license and resume must be on file with us. This warranty will remain in effect until we have received and reviewed a Proficiency Letter which should include the number of hours logged jointly, from the USCG Captain and written notification of the removal of this warranty has been issued by us."

"WTF? Logged training hours? This isn't a general aviation aircraft." says the owner of the boat (who also has a PP-ASEL certificate from the FAA), who has been operating it for almost a year, in fresh and salt water, raising bridges, going through locks, docking in challenging conditions, sailing in all sorts of conditions, navigating shipping lanes, etc -- just fine.


so....


It's me.

I'm not happy about this. Frankly, it pisses me off.

I wasn't aware this was in my policy.

I learned to sail when I was nine. My father taught me.

I was sailing a myriad of daysailers all my youth, from sunfish to hobie cats, to larger boats.

I've rigged and sailed an El Toro, a Sunfish, a Sailfish, Hobies 14 and 16, a Luger Leeward, built a kit boat, including mast and sails, and owned and sailed a San Juan 21 for half a decade, sailing it in weather that would scare the shit out of most sailers. I have even single handed the thing through both the small and big locks in Seattle, in 1995.

I *taught* people to sail, in Fremont, Califorina, in Biloxi, Mississippi, in Lake Washington.

I helped a friend of mine, who really didn't know his O'Day 30, take it through the Snohomish Channel to Lake Washington.

I helped another friend, take his power boat from Everett, through the same channel, to Anachortes, stopping him from running it aground entering Cap Sante' because he cut the first buoy,

I've never capsized a boat, after my father taught me how to right one after he did it to me.

I've never lost a person overboard.

Never hit a dock, a piling, or another boat.

Never run aground.

I know this may jinx me but, I'm a pretty damn cautious sailor.

I'll make mistakes, I'm sure but, they are going to be pretty unique and out there and, get this; I'll learn from them.

When I read the "you are not allowed...."

I have operated police vehicles at high speed on a EVOC course, I've driven a one-ton pickup truck with heavy armor at 90mph in total darkness in Iraq, I have set good times at Sears Point on both cars and motorcycles, I have a goddamn Private Pilot Single Engine Land certificate for god sakes and you are questioning my right to "operate" my sailboat?

I can't tell you how entertaining it was to watch the damn power boaters smash into boats and docks in Pt. Townsend on my last trip. Where is their Captain's Signoff?

How dare you? Not allowed? You may say I'm not covered if I damage the boat. You may say that you may purchase coverage at high expense if I don't but, how dare you write that I am not *allowed* to operate my boat? Not allowed?

Brigadoon is *my* goddamn boat and and I'm the f'in Captain. Period.

Well, I got pissed.

I think this got missed, screwed up, in all the activity of finding, offering on, financing, buying and insuring Brigadoon.

I think it's time to write a goddamn sailing resume.

Ya know...to prove I can handle my own damn boat.

Can you tell this bugged me? I might apologize for my language; tomorrow. 

Safety Decisions: Knives

As a sailor, motorcyclist, motorcycle safety trainer, camper and security
professional (not credential-ism here, just letting you know from whence my
opinion springs), I have always supported making the best decisions on what
safety gear to use.

Whether it be a motorcycle helmet, a ballistic vest, or a PFD, it's best to make
decisions that are informed by facts and data. Informed decisions are,
hopefully, free of emotion, or assertions not based on any fact.

Every single piece of safety gear has a drawback that has to be dealt with.
Every single decision surrounding safety gear is an equation where we weigh the
costs/benefits in order to come to a decision. Everything has a price of
admission.

Sometimes it's cost, sometimes it's comfort (physical/emotional), sometimes it's
fashion.

When making choices about safety gear, the biggest mistake I have seen people
make, is focusing on one drawback, one negative, at the expense of supporting
evidence for it's use.

I would strongly suggest that peer pressure, fashion, or worrying about looking
like a dork, should not be part of any equation. Ever.

Inflatable PFD choices are not free of this decision process.

Both of the following are true:

1) Manually operated PFDs will not open unless manually deployed. This is
considered a bonus for those that think this is important.

2) Manually operated PFDs cannot be deployed if you are unconscious (struck by a
boom, stumble and hit your head, pass out from something else) when you fall
overboard.

If the contributing factors for the deaths of the sailors in the Mac race were
automatically operating PFDs, combined with being tangled in the tethers,
trapping them under a boat, one lesson may be the inclusion of an effective
knife to:

a) cut the tether
b) deflate the PFD if necessary

If you are going to get a knife to mitigate this issue, I'd suggest the
simplest, most rugged, most effective, most cost effective, fixed blade knife
you can get. I got this one for my wife. I think it's an excellent knife, for
many reasons. In my opinion, some of them are:

1) There is no opening mechanism to operate.
2) There is no opening mechanism to fail.
3) The knife is very rugged.
4) It is stored in and deployed from a very secure and rugged sheath.
5) Notice no pointy end. It's not easy to stab yourself, or others, with this
knife.
6) The serrated edge is very very sharp and, in my opinion, would be effective
in cutting.
7) It's inexpensive -- you can buy more than one.


http://www.gerbergear.com/Outdoor/Knives/River-Shorty-Knife_05640

On Globalization

Understanding that globalization exists and choosing when and how to participate in it are two different things.

Since we are defending globalization, I'll weigh in on that subject. 

Yes, I know my cell phone is made in China by many, many very little hands, attached to bodies that never sit, who do the same little motion every day, for sometimes 18 hours a day. If I require a cell phone I have no choice in the matter, really. None of the companies that provide cell phone service make a phone locally. That choice is not available. 

Additionally if I want an iPad or an iPhone (I don't and won't own either one) I have to buy one manufactured by 300,000 to 450,000 workers (many of them very very young) who are employed in Shenzhen at the Longhua Science & Technology Park, a cramped, walled campus sometimes referred to as "Foxconn City" or "iPod City". This would be the factory where they put up suicide nets and made workers sign non-suicide pacts.

Now I'm not saying this is what your sail manufacturer is like. I'm using this as an example of being aware of where our STUFF comes from and the impact of using price as a primary driver for obtaining that STUFF.

The nice thing is, I have other choices when it comes to other things. There is a plethora of things, necessities, luxuries, that I can buy that aren't manufactured in (your words): "Sri Lanka rather than China. Labor laws are much looser in Sri Lanka and costs are a lot lower there."

I see that and I get to ask myself some interesting questions about the value of cost savings (I get cheap STUFF!) when weighed against doing business with a company that outsources to a country because the labor laws are looser than -- China. China, where Foxconn works people 18 hours a day and they sleep 15 to a room?

I get to decide if I want to live in, what seems to me, an "I gots mine" and "and damn who made my stuff as long as I save money" mentality. That's the way I look at it. Others may see it differently.

What it really comes down to is that I have choices. That means I have chosen to pay attention to where my STUFF is built, by whom, and under what conditions. I take notice of companies that talk about savings through utilizing economies of scale without mentioning *where* their STUFF is made. My choosing to purchase locally where I can, with most of that money going locally, to workers here, who work under fair labor laws is, in my opinion, a good thing. I like doing it. I can do it. It's *my* money.

If the expression of this makes some company, or representative of a company defensive, well, that isn't my problem.

Back to boaty stuff. While I have no control over where Brigadoon was built thirty years ago, I do have some control over what I put on her now.

All things being equal in the ethical business person department -- leaving aside the ethics of manufacturing in "Sri Lanka rather than China. Labor laws are much looser in Sri Lanka and costs are a lot lower there." -- this customer sees a clear benefit in choosing the company that is located here. This customer sees an advantage in a company that manufactures their product here. This customer likes a company who will come to my boat (not ask me to measure my own sails to save money) to ensure the product is right. This customer also really really likes the fact that I can visit the actual factory/loft where my sails are being made, talk to the workers, and know that, if I have any problems, I know where to go.

All things being equal, of course.

Baby needs a new set of sails...

Brigadoon has some pretty worn out sails.  I suspect the main is actually original.  The suit is from Lee sails.  

The main is so bagged out it's hard to depower it.  It causes great weather helm in winds above 12 or so knots.  Sure the boat goes but, it's going under a canted rudder and she's not balanced.  We knew we needed sails.

I did some preliminary searching on various sail sites.  I obtained preliminary estimates of around 8-10K for a cruising set.  I looked at Mauri sails, North, and others.  All the inital bids came in around that price.  Then we visited Port Townsend in August and ran into Carol Hasse of Port Townsend Sails as she was measuring a friend's Valiant 40.  I was impressed with her thoroughness as she combed over the boat, talking to the owner about where he stood in the cockpit (to ensure the boom height was where it needed to be), where the sails would possibly chafe, his problems with hoisting his main, along with challenges he had with his roller furling.  She spent quite a bit of time with him, measuring everything, going over every detail of his boat.  She even recommended removing the self tending track for his staysail, pointing out how it was limiting his ability to sheet the sail in and control it's shape.

So we decided to visit the loft.  Kelsey Booth showed us around the loft.  We were witness to every aspect of the sail construction as women worked everywhere in the place.  Sails were being cut, others were being stitched on a machine.  We saw luff tape being installed on headsails and watched some women work on hand finishing the sails.  Kelsey showed us an example sail, with all the bells and whistles, all hand finished and looking like a piece of art.

So we got to the question...how much?

The first estimate for main (two reefs lines, easy reefs and Cunningham included), a 110% Yankee and a staysail, in tanbark (we were considering it at the time), with full battens and a high tech strongtrack system?

It was about 15-16K, easily about 40% more than sails ordered here and made in Singapore.

We weighted the cost against the fact that these sails would be made here, in Washington, in the loft in Port Townsend.  Our sail material would come in the one end of the shop and our finished sails would come out the other end.  The sails would be custom made for our boat.  They would, by design fit Brigadoon and our needs, perfectly (one would hope).  After reading and witnessing, stories of new sails that didn't fit, sails that needed "tailoring" after being made, I thought it might be worth it to have it all done here, in one shop, by a sailmaker with a good reputation.

The only decision left, really was when to pull the trigger on the deposit and whether or not to go with tanbark sails.

With tanbark, the boat would no doubt look grand.  The drawback was that the tanbark cost more money and yet, the quality of the fabric could not match what they would normally use.  They can't get dyed dacron in the same quality.  Now, the quality is still very good. It's just not the best.  The nice thing about the shop is that they were very honest and up front about it. Kelsey was excited to make a set of tanbark for my boat, but was perfectly happy with whatever decision we made.

And that is what finally swung it for me.  It made no sense to pay more money for each sail (he dyed fabric is special order) to get a slightly lower quality material.  There was also a very good point raised about safety.   White sails can be seen better at night. I think that's worth considering.  

In the end we are going for the highest quality material available.  This means white dacron.

I call the shop today and put down a 50% deposit.  We'll schedule the measurement with Carol.  

We will have each sail made as the money flows in.  It will be all cash.

We just pulled the trigger by paying the deposit.

It will be worth it.

Listing to Port -- not so much anymore.

In a previous post I wrote about getting my tools on board.

Brigadoon has always listed slightly to port. Not as drastically as the big Beneteau in our marina, but enough to notice, especially when we are laying in our bunk.

After our long vacation in August, one of my goals was the get my tools on board.  I had two large tool boxes located in storage.  They were still there after nine months on Brigadoon because a) I had most of what I needed on board and, b) I was too busy/lazy to drag 300 lbs (yes I'm not kidding) down to the dock to sort through and bring aboard.

I finally got to storage and, after a rather dramatic struggle getting them from Smartie (our little Smart Car) into a really crappy dock box, Kerry and I were able to get them down to the dock.  She helped me as I sorted though hundreds of wrenches, sockets, screwdrivers, pliers, wire cutters, needle nose, specialty tools and such.  It was a long, hot sit in the sun but, in the end I had a bunch of stuff I needed, and a big pile of discards.

And this is where they needed to go.  It's the space under the pilot house chart table.

About 18 cubic foot of space, stuffed to the top with everything.

And the slight list to port becomes worse.  You see, I had about 200 lbs of tools there, under the pilot house seat, and way to port, right above the 60gal fuel tank.

That lasted about a week or so.  It made sleeping harder as I rolled into Kerry during the night.  Now, that isn't necessarily a bad thing, until we want to actually sleep.  

So, time to change the plan.

I got home the other day and emptied the entire storage compartment out, moving every single toolbox to the salon cabin sole.  Then I started loading them into the strorage space under the starboard sette.

Better picture to come later but, it's the bench on the right.

Moving all the tools below the sette changed everything.  Brigadoon sits almost level on her lines now, pretty balanced between port and starboard.  I now also have easy access to all the tools without having to dig into a deep box.  They are now spread out under the cushions where I can get to them easily.

Boat in balance.  Sleep in balance.  Life in balance.

First Mate's Log of Brigadoon: The Rest of our Sailing Vacation - August 19-28, 2011

By: Kerry Christianson

So - as a warning, this may be a bit longish...  but I want to try to get down in words my memories of the last couple of weeks.  :-)

We left Shilshole on Friday morning, 8/19 with a north wind beating down as we tacked our way towards the south end of Whidbey Island on our way to Port Ludlow.  Then the wind died and we made the decision to bring the sails down and motor for a bit.  Well, as Donn was securing the main to the boom, the engine started sounding funny... and then died altogether. We immediately brought the sails up again, although we weren't moving much at that point, and I did my best to sail, while Donn headed down into the engine compartment to try to figure out what was going on.  He worked on replacing some filters and tried a few times to restart the engine with no success.  Meanwhile we kept sailing and the wind started to slowly pick up.  About two weeks before our trip I had deciced it might be a good idea to purchase Vessel Assist insurance "just in case".  I gave them a call and we had them meet us outside the Port Ludlow Marina to get us to our slip, as we didn't know the marina at all and weren't sure how easy it would be to sail in.  Because of the insurance, we paid nothing for a $700 tow.  We arrived around 7:30pm, got situated and went to find ourselves a much needed dinner, complete with wine in front of a lovely fireplace.  

We were in Port Ludlow for the Bob Perry Rendezvous - which is a gathering for any boats designed by Bob Perry.  He, himself attends and everyone gets to look at each other's boats, mix, mingle and party.  Saturday morning, Donn asked at the Marina office if there was a diesel engine mechanic nearby he could call.  There was, Donn called, and Gabriel Marine was on the job!  By that afternoon our engine problems had been figured out and fixed.  Great guy - we'd recommend him to anyone needing assistance with their engine in that neck of the woods.  

We enjoyed the rest of our day by watching the blind dinghy races, talking with other boat owners and preparing for the potluck and party that evening.  Dinner came, we ate and enjoyed ourselves and then around 8:30 or so headed back to the boat feeling tired after a full day.  That's when I started not feeling so well.  I will keep this part short - but I just need to share that around midnight when I found myself puking over the stern of Brigadoon - I was amazed at the beauty of the phosphorescence effects as my dinner came up and hit the water in the dark.  I had to laugh at the beautiful effects from a not-so-fun ordeal. 

Sunday morning, 8/21

We had decided to travel to Port Townsend with 2 other boats just in case we had engine troubles again - we'd have someone close by to help us out if necessary.  We left at high tide around noon and said goodbye to Port Ludlow.  We ended up motoring a little bit of the way but then the wind came up and we raised the sails and had a fun time sailing most of the way up to the Point Hudson Marina in Port Townsend.  We arrived around 3:30, checked in and then Donn went to the marine shop nearby to inquire about getting our oil changed and our fuel tank cleaned. Then we headed out to dinner with one of the other couples we had travelled with.  Afterwards we met up with my friend Kim over at Sirens and had a couple of drinks.  It was a really nice evening.

Monday, 8/22

Today we got the oil changed and wandered around town a bit.  Had mexican for lunch and then another nice dinner at one of the local Thai restaurants.

Tuesday, 8/23

We had the fuel tank polished today - took about 4 hours but boy was our tank and fuel sparkling clean after that - good feeling.  We also went up and visited the Port Townsend Sail Loft - owned and run by Carol Hasse and completely staffed by women.  Amazing artistry and quality - everything is hand sewn there, onsite in their loft.  We ended up getting a quote for new sails for Brigadoon (sorely needed) and are now discussing finances and a timeline for how to get ourselves some of these beautiful sails.  We enjoyed another nice dinner and hit the local Rose Theater to see "Another Earth" - which we both enjoyed.  Quite thought provoking.  

For the last couple of days we had been discussing where to go next.  Our original plan had been to leave by Tuesday and head up to Victoria if the weather was good.  But that was before the engine/fuel problems and neither of us felt a huge urge to head further north at this point.  So... we thought about our options and decided to head south and take it one day at a time and see where we felt like going....

Wednesday, 8/24

No wind.  We left around 8 at a very low tide and motored for 5 hours with a flow current down to Edmonds Marina.  No problems with the boat at all - things were looking good.  Barely found a spot on the guest dock, which was mostly populated by small fishing runabouts.  We managed to get tied up, went in search of lunch and then came back for a well earned nap.  That evening, we headed into town and caught another movie - "The Help".  Great movie - hard to watch at times.  Not a proud time of American history.  Things close up early around the marina - so we headed back to boat after the movie and read for a bit before falling asleep.  

Thursday, 8/25

I slowly awoke as diesel fumes filled our cabin and in my half-asleep state I was having worries of passing out and dying in our bunk.  The fishing boats and work boats around us had been starting (and running) their engines around us and the fumes had made their way in.  We got ourselves up - made use of the marina showers and got out of there.  Not a marina we'd stay in again if we could help it.  No wind again.  We motored southwest to the north end of Bainbridge Island and headed into Agate Passage down the west side of the island.  Then we made a right hand turn into Liberty Bay and made our way slowly up to Poulsbo.  We found ourselves a slip at the main marina and headed into town for some food.  It was a hot day and after lunch, as Donn went shopping for deals at the local marina store, I sought out the local salon/spa and got myself a mani/pedi (which I never do).  It was lovely - my nails became a bright rosy pink and my toenails a deep blue.  :-)  I was a happy girl.  Donn came by in high spirits having found two amazing items at a steep discount.  Our boat now has a new compass in the cockpit and he also scored a Top Climber, which allows a person to climb their own mast, unassisted.  As neither of us had ever been up our mast - he was eager to try it out.  Later that afternoon, I enjoyed some reading, while Donn took down one of the kayaks and headed out into the bay for a bit.  He came back glowing after having seen a mama and baby seal pop their heads up just 5 feet from where he floated.  At this point, we were enjoying Poulsbo a lot and decided to just stay put for another day.

Friday, 8/26

Enjoyed breakfast at a 2nd story German restaurant in town, sitting on the balcony overlooking the main drag.  Wandered around town some more and I ended up finding and buying myself a nice sundress, which I wore that evening out to dinner.  We walked through the small aquarium on the edge of town - a highlight was watching the octopus get fed.  We made it back to the boat and Donn got out the new Top Climber and started his slow ascent up the mast, while I watched and took pictures.  Everything went well and now we know we can get up there when and if necessary.  We got the kayaks down and both went for a late afternoon paddle at high tide towards the very end of the bay.  It was a slow easy paddle, complete with bird watching (including a beautiful eagle hunting from a tree over the water) and another seal sighting.  By the time we returned, we were both ready for dinner.  I showered, put on my new dress and we headed to a wonderful Spanish Tapas place in town.  We sat at the bar and let the bartender take care of us.  Great dinner!

Saturday, 8/27

Ok - so I thought I had the tides/currents figured out for our departure...  the tide was going to be coming in, so we left at slack and instead of heading up through Agate pass again, where I knew we'd be fighting an incoming current, I planned for us to head south around the south end of Bainbridge Island and out into Puget Sound.  Well...  we had an incoming current on that end too and it was fairly strong (3-4 knots) and no wind.  So we motored slowly through it until we were able to come out into the more open waters of the Sound and suddenly the current was mostly gone and we had wind!  Yay!  We were off and sailing merrily towards Seattle, heading NE on a port tack.  After we had successfully crossed the shipping lanes and were much closer to Seattle, we had an interesting close call with a container ship who turned towards Seattle with us right in his path.  We tacked away and were fine and kept heading north towards Shilshole.  Then another container ship headed out of Seattle behind us and I noticed he was putting off quite a wake and mentioned it to Donn.  He told me to keep an eye on it and we kept on sailing.  A short while later, I look off our port side and saw this huge wall of water heading our way.  "WAKE!" I shouted to Donn and pointed to the west.  He looked and turned us away from it just in time for it to lift up the stern and sending us surfing down about 12-15 feet.  3-4 more waves followed and we hung on and went for the ride.  Wow - that counts as my biggest wave ever so far on the boat.  Kind of like riding a roller coaster.... (and I love roller coaters).  :-)  We pulled into Shilshole again for our last night and headed out to Ray's Boathouse for another splendid dinner to celebrate a safe and happy homecoming.  

Sunday, 8/28

Got up to a foggy morning and took our time leaving to head over to the locks.  When we got there, the train bridge was down.  We sounded our horn and were met with the 5 blast code of "you shall not pass now!"  So we waited on the west side of the train bridge while the small locks opened, some boats came out and they loaded up the next batch heading east.  There was enough room for us and they actually looked like they were holding the locks for us so we could come right in once the train bridge went up.  It wasn't to be.  By the time two trains went by and they finally raised it, the locks had to close and do another round so we could get in next time.  We tied up at the waiting wall and waited.  When it was finally our turn, we were the first in and got situated and tied up pretty quickly with little problem.  Then we watched the rest of the fun.  They packed us in and when the rear (west) gates started to close, the gates actualy got stuck on someone's boat because they were too close.  The locks officers had some of the boats shift a bit, so that guy could move forward and we progressed from there.  I would have been freaking out if the lock gates were stuck on our boat.  Dang.  We got out safely, got through both bridges with no problem at all and were home by noon.  We spend the afternoon resting, getting our boat back to living at home mode, and bringing our minds back into home/work life.

It was an amazing ten days and I feel happy to realize that I'm excited to go out again.  I like this life - I love travelling and meeting new people and I'm really enjoying sailing with my partner and Captain, Donn.   We have plans for ordering new sails, new upholstery and a multitude of small projects over the next several months.  It's truly an awesome adventure. 

My neighbors

I'm sitting in salon the other day, playing guitar while Kerry works on her laptop, when I hear the neighbors stop by.  There is a loud and incessant chittering right above my head...

Swallows.  They were everywhere, scattered along my lifelines, stanchions, and all over the boat docked off our bow.  They hung out for about twenty minutes, arguing bird politics quite energetically, until they noticed me capturing their feathered debate with my trusty Canon.  

Whereupon they split, tearing across the lake like the little feathered fighter planes of the animal kingdom that they are.

I like my neighbors.

Houston, we have Tools

It's been challenging, being on the boat without my tools.  I came from a home in the suburbs, with a two car garage, a huge workshop, and over 30 years of accumulated tools.  Even though I sold off the drill press, the grinders, and a host of other tools I thought I would not need as a City Mouse in Seattle, I still ended up with a two very large and heavy tool boxes.

Those have been sitting in storage since November 1 of 2010.  You see, I could not see how I could get to 50+lb tool boxes on Brigadoon.

Then I discovered a little organizing skills.

You see, this is my tool storage:

The space under this chart table holds ships spares and tools.

That space isn't very large or easy to access.  Putting two huge tool boxes, especially a very heavy and unwieldy one with drawers just didn't make sense.

The huge tool box worked great on my twelve foot long workbench.  Not so much in the space you see below:

This is the chart table seat with the cushions removed.

As you can see, there is a larger space below.  I call this deep storage.  I think it can hold about two to three bodies.

Deep storage, under the chart table seat storage.

Brigadoon is like a puzzle, where you find space for things.  Kind of like a Tetris game, where you get bonus points for putting everything in the right place.

So, I pulled the two tool boxes from storage and spent a very long afternoon sorting, categorizing, and discarding, tools I didn't need.  I mean, how many needle nose pliers of exactly the same size, with cutting feature, does one need?  How many 13mm sockets?  How many 10mm open end wrenches?

The answer, simply, is two.  You can get by with one but, if that one breaks, you can't always go to the store.  So, the exercise was: find one 10mm socket in 3/8" drive.  Find another of exactly the same type.  Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.

You do this until you have examined every tool you have and decided what you need and what you don't.

So, now I'm down to a separate toolbox for the sockets, one for the wrenches (including allen wrenches), another for screwdrivers and pliers/needle nose/diags, and other miscellaneous tools like the tiniest hand plane you have ever seen and a huge drawknife (made a boat oar with it once).

The collection has been vetted and now all it needs to be is stowed.

This is where you play Tetris:

Huge metal toolbox hidden behind wrenches, sockets, ships supplies, spare parts, and work coveralls, along with storm trysail.

It's done.  I ended up sitting in the sun for a couple hours, staring at wrenches and sockets.  Too tired to eat dinner, all I could do is sip on a cider and eventually go for a walk.  However, as I type this, I'm sitting six inches above every tool I own and it's all aboard Brigadoon.

Now, where to put that underwater welder...

Ten Days at Sea, sort of.

What This is About

Brigadoon at full tilt under sail.

Sailing with my Kerry

The Plans

Plans, plans and more plans were made as we prepared to take off on our longest cruise yet.  The idea was to spend ten days out on Brigadoon, traveling approximately 200 nautical miles, circumnavigating Puget Sound.  Our plan was to visit Port Ludlow for the Perry Rendezvous, continue to Port Townsend, cross the Strait of Juan de Fuca, visit Victoria, cross through Deception Pass, stop over in Oak Harbour or Penn Cove on Whidbey, and continue on south to Shilshole and back home.

The Planned Route.

And yet, those are just plans.  Just as "get-there-itis" has brought down many a pilot, it can vex sailors too.  Attempting to rigidly stick to a plan or schedule can force bad decisions upon boat and crew, leading to a less than optimum voyage, if not outright disaster.  As with all things on the water, the plans can change due to weather conditions, the crew, and the systems on the boat.  On this trip, many things changed.  We met many unexpected challenges, and yet were prepared for it none the less.

Eventually, we sailed this route, covering about 150 nautical miles.

Our Actual Route.

So with plans and contingencies in mind we set off on the evening of Thursday, the 18th of August, for the locks and our first stop, a loaner slip at Shilshole Marina from the kindness our cruising friends on Deep Playa, who are on their way to points south as I write this.  Kerry gave great directions as we motored into Shilshole, looking for our slip and finding it rather quickly with a , "There it is!"

I turned in quickly and we were shortly tied up, all snug, in Deep Playa's old slip.

Brigadoon rests quietly at Shilshole.

Setting Off

The morning dawned very early for us, as was the case the whole vacation.  We rarely stayed up terribly late and often found ourselves rising fairly early.  I was usually up and about around 7:00 AM in search of, or making, coffee.  Kerry usually popped up shortly thereafter.  After returning from finding coffee (chai for my Kerry) at the Purple Cow cafe just south of the marina, we started our plans for setting off.

Kerry plotted out our course on Rose Point (our laptop navigation software) while I busied myself with prepping the boat for casting off.  Our first stop after the slip was the fuel dock to pick up 20 gal of diesel to top up our fuel tank for the trip north.

The plan was to sail, as much as possible, from the north entrance to Shilshole, around Point No Point, around Fairweather Bluff, and arrive triumphantly at the Perry Rendezvous in a very rare (only six ever made) Pilot House version of Bob's Baba 35 cutter.

With a full tank we motored out of Shilshole and started our tacking journey against steady north winds.  The actual distance between Shilshole and Port Ludlow is about 25 nautical miles.  That, however, is a straight route, taking us around the major shipping lane that occupies the majority of Puget Sound.  We had to tack, back and forth, against the wind, to work our way north.

At one point, as we finally made it past Edmonds, Kerry said, "we aren't making much progress it seems."

Well, she was right.  It didn't seem that way but, we hadn't spent much time doing this yet.  Brigadoon was actually doing well, sailing against a steady 10-12 kts of northerly breeze and making good time at around 6 kts of boat speed.  She sails well pointing into the wind, even with her baggy saggy old mainsail.

Brigadoon, at full tilt, about 6.5 kts, tacking northward towards Whidbey Island.

I really like it when Brigadoon is galloping along, like an 11 ton war horse.  She is really in her element.

Soon we had made our way to the south end of Whidbey island, where the winds calmed a bit.  We ended up almost to Useless Bay (named because it's quite inviting but shallow and useless in a southerly blow, being open completely to the south).  But the wind was from the north and Whidbey was not going to share it with us.  Being in the island's shadow meant that we could see Point No Point but were making slow progress towards it.  With that, we decided there was no harm in motoring over there and into Port Ludlow for our arrival.

Engine Failure


Kerry took the wheel, driving Brigadoon northward, into the wind as I doused the mainsail.  As I stood on the pilot house, securing the mainsail to the mast, I could hear the engine running along and feel the boat rocking against the swells.  As I concentrated on the sail, I heard something funny.

I looked back.  Kerry looked a little confused.

"The engine sounds funny," she said.

The boat was rocking into the swells a bit, so I figured the changes in revs were do the prop partially coming out of the water.

"Keep her on course and I'll be right there," I replied.

Quickly getting the mainsail secured I headed down off the house and to the wheel.  Kerry turned to controls over to me as I tried to see what was going on.  The engine was running erratically, with revs changing up and down.  I pushed the throttle full forward, expecting about 2500 to 3000 rpm and, eventually, about 5 kts of boat speed towards Port Ludlow.

Instead, we ended up watching the revs on the tach drop to zero and listening to the engine die.  Attempts to restart her were for naught.  All I got was cranking.  No engine.  No start.  Nothing.

This, on our first day.

Besides, sailors of old made due without engines.  Right?

"Well, We Are a Sailboat Now."

That's what I said to Kerry as I quickly moved forward to get the main raised again.  My trusty and reliable first mate took the wheel as we transitioned back to being a pure sailboat, running on main and staysail.  Soon, we were indeed a sailboat, floating about, just south of Useless Bay, in barely any wind, trying to stay out of the shipping channel and not get run down by the passing freighters and cruise ships.

The first of many container ships we encountered in this journey.

This ship can kill you and not even notice.

The bow or killing end.  

You see, in the shipping channel, those ships are moving. They are big.  They are fast. They don't move for you.  You are expected to move for them.  Sailing under good wind, or with a good engine, gives you options.  You still have to keep out of their way.  They are still moving much much faster than you expect, but you have options.

With a dead engine and Brigadoon capable of a whole 3 kts of boat speed in these light winds, our options of navigating the shipping lanes easily or quickly were much diminished.  Kerry had her hands full but she was clearly up to the task; sighting approaching ships, calculating closing speed, choosing when to tack away from the channel and when we could be in it.  This allowed me to concentrate on why we didn't have an engine.

Diving In 

There I was, ripping the stairs out of the pilot house, pulling out the engine manual, sorting through tools and preparing to figure out why we didn't have an engine in the middle of the Puget Sound, alongside the shipping lanes.  This was all my fault, by the way.  I'll elaborate later but, right now, let's concentrate on what I tried to do.

Trusting Kerry to keep us safe and sailing, I started examining the fuel system.  You see, the great thing about diesel engines, especially marine diesel engines, is that they are so simple.  All you need is air, fuel, and compression, assuming the engine itself is mechanically sound (not all broken inside).

I dove into the fuel system, suspecting fuel starvation.  Working through the fuel system, I replaced the primary Racor fuel filter, bleeding it for air (there can be no air in the system for the engine to function), then moving on to the secondary filter on the engine.  I quickly got that off and found it mostly empty of fuel.  I changed that filter and attempted to bleed the air out of that one.  The manual, low pressure pump wasn't working so I tried another technique.  I used the decompression levers on the engine and cranked her over with the starter, pumping the air out of the top of the filter.  Completing that I tried an engine start.

Note: this was a try for luck as I had not completed the air bleeding procedure but, at the worst, it would mean no fuel delivery to the engine and just wasted cranking.

Turning the key, I poised my finger over the button and pushed.

"THUNK."

Wait, it wasn't supposed to make that noise.  The engine would not turn over.  I suspected, for some insane reason, a dead start battery but, I had ample voltage on both banks.  It should, at least, try to turn over.

"THUNK."

Nope.

We are still primarily a sailboat.  So, we sailed.  The engine was frozen, or won't turn over and we need to get to Port Ludlow before dark.  Fortunately, Kerry had signed us up for Vessel Assist (the AAA on the water) so we started making arrangements for a tow to our slip once we got into Port Ludlow.

The crisis wasn't over but, we were dealing with it well.  We were under sail, making way, and scheduled for a meetup with the tow boat for our triumphant entrance to the  Perry Rendezvous.

The nautical tow truck getting us to our slip at Port Ludlow.

We made it to our first destination and were quickly nestled into our slip.   We shortly ran into Bob.  He gave me a great hug and welcomed us.  I had much on my mind.  With the dead engine, I had no idea what the rest of our trip was going to be like.  At least we were safe and at the event.

We weren't the only boat to have issues, or need a tow in.  Another Baba 35 had a coolant issue and ended up in the entrance to Ludlow with a cabin full of smoke.  We had listened to them on the radio as we worked our way in under sail.  At least we didn't have a possible engine fire.

Sorting Out the Engine


The next day we were able to engage Burton Gabriel of Gabriel Marine Services to come sort out our engine issues.  Burton was excellent.  He worked with me to go through the fuel system, educated me on what I needed to do to resolve this in the future, and discovered our problem.

The reason why the engine would not turn over was that the rear cylinder was full of seawater.  This was my fault.  I cranked the engine too long out in the sound and, since a marine diesel engine uses seawater to cool the exhaust, the water back filled from the exhaust riser into the engine.  We got it cleaned out and, with a few hours work, had the entire fuel system bled.  The engine struggled at first but, with some coaxing and cranking, the little Yanmar started up and ran well.   Burton checked over everything twice, declaring that the engine was likely fine and that we should have no problems making it to our next stop; Port Townsend.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon on Saturday and our trip wasn't ruined.

The Party

That night we made some new friends, shared a potluck, danced to Bob and his band and let some of the stress and worries go.

To Port Townsend

Sunday morning was filled with a little more relaxation, and planing our next leg.  With Kerry plotting our course, I cleaned up the boat and, with a little fretting here and there, decided that we could head out.  Two other boats were headed to Pt Townsend too, and one of them was the Baba 35 with the possible overheating issue, so we decided to keep and eye on each other on the way.

I spent plenty of time during the trip checking the Racor fuel filter and ensuring it wasn't clogging.  Each time it looked good, so we carried on.

It was a really good sail.  We got to practice some motor sailing along the way and eventually ended up under full sail, pointing hard into 15+ kts of north wind, working our way across the shipping lanes at just about 7 kts towards Point Hudson Marina in the town of Port Townsend.

Docking was a challenge.  There was plenty of yelling between Kerry and I (the good kind, just being heard) as we dealt with pulling into a slip upwind of a big ketch and ensuring we didn't drift down on her before we got the lines tied up.  We did well.  I'm proud of how well Kerry and I work together, how we handle challenges, and how we solve problems before they become a crisis.

After fifteen nautical miles in the sound we were tied up at our slip.

We were to spend three nights there.

Pt Townsend

While we were here, in this picturesque little town, we decided to engage SEA Marine, have a mechanic change the oil on the engine along with finding and engaging a fuel polishing service.

The view from the Pt Hudson Cafe while the fuel polishing service was done.

Internet access at the dock.

I wanted to know the engine was in top shape and that my fuel tank and supply was as clean as possible.  We were in a beautiful little town with great services available so we made the best of it.  While we had some great dinners, and wandered the various shops, hung out with our new friends, the engine and fuel system was sorted out.

When we were all done, the mechanic confirmed that, our engine was indeed sound.  I had a fresh oil change, in both the engine and transmission.  I also knew that the fuel was spotless, clean of all dirt, and the steel fuel tank was in "excellent condition."

So why did all this happen?

It was my fault.  You see, when we got the boat, we had a huge punch list of things we had to do.  I addressed many items but, aside from running the engine, knowing I needed an oil change eventually, and getting to know the engine, I didn't do what I should have done.  I should have changed every single fuel filter.  I should have changed the engine oil.  I should have had the fuel polished and the tank inspected.  I should have, I should have, I should have.  I didn't.  I didn't make the engine and fuel systems a priority and it cost us a lesson or two.   Granted the lesson wasn't that expensive... we didn't run aground, we didn't have a disaster but, this was likely completely avoidable if I had spent that thousand dollars before the trip instead of during it.

But now we had a clean starting point.  The engine was to perform and run like a well oiled clock for the rest of the trip and, by the time we were fighting tidal currents at the south end of Bainbridge on Saturday, I had no worries of engine failure.

New Sails for Brigadoon

While we were in Port Townsend, one of our friends had an appointment with Port Townsend Sails, owned by Carol Hasse. As Kerry and I watched Carol go over our neighbors boat, while we were getting our fuel system polished, I noted how thorough she was.  Kerry had seen her work in a display in the local chandlery store so we thought it would be a good idea to visit her shop.

Brigadoon's sails are quite tired. We had been discussing what to do about it.  Now seemed a good time to look at some options.  So we stopped by the sail loft and talked to all the friendly folk there.  Port Townsend Sails is an all woman operation.  The staff is amazing and, to top it off, they hand make every single sail right in that loft.  Many sail makers measure your boat and send an order to the far east.  Sometimes your sails fit when they are delivered and sometimes they don't. Sure a main may only cost $3,000 from them but, what if it doesn't fit.  At Port Townsend sails the main sail may cost us closer to $5,000 but, is made right there, hand finished, right in their loft and they ensure it will fit our boat, our use and our needs, perfectly.

It's very likely we will be ordering new sails for Brigadoon from them, even though it will cost about 30% more.

A Change of Plans

We had originally planned on heading north from here, possibly crossing the strait to make landfall in another country; to visit Victoria.  Kerry and I sat down and discussed the plan.  We decided that, even though we had the engine sorted out, that moving south was a better option for this trip. If something else came up, if our luck (mostly self created) turned south again, we should be closer to home than farther away.

With that we decided to head for the Port of Edmonds, then go through Agate Pass to Poulsbo.

The Nicest Trailer Park 


After our three night stay in Port Townsend which included great dinners, a higher level of confidence in our boat, and a quote for new sails, we slipped our lines and motored out of Point Hudson Marina onto a glass smooth sound.  We ended up motoring the entire way to Port Edmonds Marina and, despite all the local fishermen out hogging the guest moorage, were able to find a slip for the night.

Awaking early the next morning, almost suffocating on diesel fumes from a working boat that was idling nearby, we decided to get out of Edmonds.

Agate Pass and Poulsbo

We had often heard our friend John talk about rafting up in Poulsbo and taking advantage of the quaint little town with its fine collection of restaurants. We had yet to visit Poulsbo in Brigadoon, only having been there by car in 2010 when we visited the marina on our search for our boat.

Agate Pass sits deep inside Port Madison.  It is a narrow channel, only 200 yards wide and is topped by the bridge connecting Bainbridge to the Peninsula.  It was a great passage, being pushed along by a three knot tide.  We zipped through Agate Pass, scooted under her 70 foot-tall bridge and, after negotiating the twisting channel, found ourselves in the quaint nordic-esque town of Poulsbo.

We decided to spend the next two days enjoying the restaurants, shopping for stuff at Longship Marine, kayaking, and generally enjoying this quiet little town.

Longship Marine was a great find.  I had seen many ads on Craigslist over the last year from them.  I wanted to stop by and see what they had and, boy did I make out well.  While I was looking about in Longship, Kerry treated herself to a manicure and pedicure. She deserved it after all her hard work.

Finding Our Way

At Longship I made two great finds. The first was a replacement cockpit compass for Brigadoon.  Our original compass dome was yellowed and faded, the oil level was low, making it hard to see through the big air bubble; it needed a service badly.  We had a quote for $500-700 for servicing the compass and making it new again.  Then I found this...

Old compass on the left.  New compass on the right.

This is the same compass.  Actually it's a better model.  I found it for only $190.00.

Now to install it.  I had to pull the old compass and upgrade some wiring.  This is what was under the old compass.  It's supposed to feed a dome light for night navigation.

Those are wire nuts.  They belong in houses, not on boats.

These, left on the boat by the previous owner, went straight into the trash that day.

This is a properly wired lighting connection for the new compass.  No wire nuts.

The new Danforth White Express compass, installed.

Kerry loved this.  She hated the old compass. She struggled while driving the boat, trying to follow a course. It's funny how you can make a girl happy by getting her a compass.

Going Aloft

The other find addressed one of my concerns.  I had never been aloft on Brigadoon.  In the almost-year since we bought her, I had never been up the mast on my own boat. The reasons for this are many.

1) I didn't have a proper bosun's chair, nor climbing gear.
2) Kerry and I didn't feel comfortable winching someone up the mast with non-tailing winches.
3) A fall form 55' above the water the deck can be fatal.
4) There wasn't a pressing need.

What I found at Longship Marine was the ATN Topclimber.

The Topclimber allows a person to climb the mast in a safe and controlled manner, with no assistance whatsoever.

That afternoon, we spent some time trying it out.

First you run a static line up with the halyard.  Then you climb, very slowly, up that line.

It took me about 15 minutes of taking my time to get to the spreaders while Kerry chatted with a neighbor on the boat in the next slip.

It took a while but I finally made it to the top.

That's about 50' to the water and 45' to the deck.  It's a long way down.

Kerry gave it a try too, though she didn't go to the top just yet.

So now we can safely make it to the top of the mast.  I can deal with replacing all the incandescent mast lights with LED replacements.  I can rig a secondary halyard for a spinnaker.  I can go aloft, like a real sailor should be able to and I can do it safely.

Poulsbo to Shilshole


Getting out of Poulsbo was quite challenging.  Kerry had done a good job of navigating and taking the tides into account.  We had decided not to attempt to go back through Agate Pass as it would mean heading against a flood tide.  The currents are strong enough that, even at full engine, we may not be able to make it through.  The plan was to head south around Bainbridge Island, go out into the channel the Bremerton Ferry uses, and enter the sound and sail north to Shilshole.

There was no wind.

We motored.

Everything was fine until we hit the channel.  We were against the tide and didn't anticipate the strength of the current flow.  Oh, it wasn't bad, really.  We just went very very slow.  How slow?

This knot meter is reading five knots.

Mr. GPS says different.

We were fighting the incoming flood tide. So we just motored, through the tide rips that tried to spin Brigadoon around, slowly making way, heading out to the Sound.

The winds were dead south of Bainbridge so, with a little work of our iron sails, we headed out to good winds and a fast sail.  Soon, we were tearing across the Sound, crossing the shipping lanes, to find ourselves tacking into Elliott Bay, just outside the city. Brigadoon was really making way.  This is what she loves. It was a great way to end the trip.   We worked our way north, weaving through small recreational fishing boats that don't seem to care that they don't have the right of way over a sailing vessel.

Collision Avoidance

We also had to watch the shipping traffic. One such encounter was very challenging.  We had spied a large container ship southbound past Elliott Bay.  We were on a starboard tack (the wind coming from the right) and headed for her. The ship wasn't going to be a problem.  It was headed south at about 20-25 knots.  We had some concern at her blowing her horn at a large sailboat crossing her path.

"Gee, I'm glad that isn't us," I said.

I spoke too early.

In one minute the ship, blasting the horn again, was turning to port, towards Harbor Island, and directly into our path.  She was very close indeed and bearing down on us, directly on our bow.  I think I mentioned she was doing about 20 knots or so.

"We are tacking *now*," I told Kerry.

So we crash-tacked to starboard to get out of the ships path.  It took a bit, but we worked together as a team and soon, the ship was passing behind us.

The container ship that almost ran us down.

Surfing

As that ship passed behind us, Kerry noted another container ship leaving Seattle and heading north for the shipping channel behind us.

"She sure is making a large wake," Kerry noted.

"Yes she is.  Let's keep an eye on that."

Fifteen minutes later, as I wove us through another flotilla of careening recreational fishing boats as they trolled for salmon, Kerry spoke up again.

"That wake is coming fast and it's big."

I turned to look. I have never seen a ship's wake so huge.  Now, people are prone to exaggeration and while it looked 20-25 feet tall, it was likely about 12-15.  That was still huge.  It was also coming fast. I estimated it was traveling about about 10 knots.  Kerry asked what we should do, as the wake was primed to hit us broadside.

I turned us away.  I let Brigadoon take the wake on her ample hips, letting the canoe stern take the ride.  We ended up surfing down that wake, and two others.  Brigadoon was lifted like she weighed nothing but she took it well.

"That is how this boat can handle following seas in the South Pacific," I told Kerry.

With that gone we continued to head north, tacking back and forth.  The conditions were strong, we were tired and making mistakes.  We had been sailing since nine in the moring and it was now close to four in the afternoon. It was time to get to Shilshole.

The engine started great.  We got the sails stowed and were shortly in our guest slip again, after dodging some stand up paddle boarders playing in the marina.

*Whew*.

We treated ourselves to a  great dinner at Ray's Boathouse and turned in for the night.

Sunday and Home

Sunday morning dawned chilly and very foggy.  All we had to do today was get through the locks and back to the dock on Lake Union.

First you have to raise the railroad bridge.

This time we tied up to the wall.  

Usually, we have floated about, between the locks and the Burlington Northern Bridge.  Remember that engine failure earlier in the week?  What if it failed now, while the bridge was down?  What would happen is, if we couldn't get the anchor out fast enough, we'd drift down into the pilings or the bridge, likely tearing the mast off Brigadoon.

So we decided to tie up to the wall.  It was a great idea and one we will be doing again.

Then you get yourself loaded into the locks.

And you do everything the nice lock attendant says, exactly how he says it, exactly when he says it.

You raise a couple bridges.

And leaving the last one behind -- the Fremont Bridge in this case.

 You are Home

Actually home was with us all the time.  We were on our home; Brigadoon.

Where we ended our trip was at our dock, on Lake Union.

We had a great trip, even with the engine failure, the added expense, the almost collision with the container ship, the dodging of fishing boats, and surfing that massive wake.  The boat sailed great.  We think we know were we will get our next sails. We made some friends and learned a lot of really great lessons.

I think the one I learned is that I can count on Kerry when it really matters, we don't forget to love and respect each other when shit happens, and I couldn't be luckier to spend 10 whole days than to be with her.