Leaving Home and Arriving Home

We had spent a month cruising South Puget Sound, getting ready for the departure we've talked about, planned about, worried about, checking our boat and ourselves out for the 830 nm journey from Port Townsend to San Francisco. The month was time well spent discovering and fixing problems with things like solar panels (broken wire fixed at anchor), getting used to the navigation software and to the pace and rhythm of traveling again.

I was focused on the safety and seaworthiness of Brigadoon and the care and feeding of her crew. We'd agreed to take a friend along on the offshore  journey -- Patrick had called us and wanted an adventure. He'd never been offshore on a sailboat before.

Patrick, Donn, and Kerry at Siren's in Port Townsend

Our charting and weather software estimated our voyage to be approximately five days.

We left Port Townsend on Thursday morning, September 5th at 11am.  It took 11.5 days, with stops in Port Angeles, Neah Bay and Crescent City, California.

This was to prove our most challenging journey to date.

The trip to Port Angeles was calm and uneventful.  A nice quiet start.  Kerry waved goodbye to her parents as we passed the Point Wilson lighthouse.  The three of us walked into town and enjoyed a nice Italian dinner that evening and went to bed early to be ready to fuel up and leave for Neah Bay the next morning.

An hour out of Port Angeles, the wind was on our nose, we became enveloped in thick fog and the waters started to churn.  We then slowly inched our way to Neah Bay in increasingly foul conditions.  Kerry had to put on the patch and struggled with seasickness.  It took us 14 hours to get to Neah Bay that day.  We entered the unfamiliar harbor in quieter conditions, but at night.  Kerry used our powerful flashlight beam to find our slip as we slowly motored in.  We stayed for two nights so we could rest up.  I changed the oil, discovered our impeller belt needed to be replaced, and made sure everything was in order.

We departed Neah Bay in pea-soup thick fog and motored out the Strait and into the Pacific. Facing calm conditions, and a fog that slowly burned away under the sun, our course took us farther and farther west until we were 100nm offshore. This was to avoid the rougher waters common along the Washington and Oregon Coast and to give us some experience being really out there.

That was an odd part -- the world -- the land -- just going away.

Kerry and I shared the watch schedule - at night, 3 hours on, 3 hours off.  During the day, we played with 4 on and 2 off.  It seemed to work pretty well.  Patrick helped by keeping us company when he was up and doing the lion's share of the cooking and dishes.  Based on our experience on this trip, I know Kerry and I can do this alone when we do our next longer voyage.

First Sunset at sea - September 8, 2019

 And there was no wind, or not enough wind. All the forecasts we studied showed winds of 15-20kts. This would have been perfect for Brigadoon but the winds weren't 15-20kts.  They were more like 6-8kts.

Combine this with the 2-3 meter swells that made sailing well nigh impossible. There wasn't enough wind to keep the sails full and powered up as the swells caused Brigadoon to roll enough to slat the sails and make them useless.

Then there was me, rigging the Asym sail backwards...you'd think I'd learn...

There's always something to learn, some new challenge to figure out while underway. This trip was going to be about engine and fuel management.

Ironically - Kerry and I both used the patch on this trip and Patrick didn't suffer from any discomfort at sea at all.

We were 100nm north of Crescent City when our calculations made it clear that we wouldn't have enough fuel to make it to San Francisco with an adaquate reserve. So, we decided to divert to Crescent City for fuel.

We stayed in Crescent City for two nights also.  Again - rest was needed at this point.  I changed the oil again, we did laundry, took showers, rested.

The final leg to SF was similar -- strong rollers and little wind. Our 4000hr Yanmar engine pushed us along at 5 kts and a quiet(er) 2100 rpm than our usual 2600 rpm. All I had to do was check and top up the engine oil every 24 hours and ensure the fuel filters were flowing and we were good to go.

We spent the last day along the California coast planning our entrance to the Golden Gate and San Francisco Bay. Various guides warned about traffic and current challenges entering the bay. They all cautioned against rounding Point Bonita and crossing under the gate during an ebb tide -- something about heavy currents and rough water (seen this before many times in the Puget Sound).

So we slowed a little and, instead of sailing under the Golden Gate on a beautiful sunset, we had to wait and enter at about 9:30 PM. The ebb was down to about 1.5 kts and I knew we could handle that. It was a rough and bouncy ride anyway, around that point, but as soon as we turned in towards the bridge the point shielded us from the two meter swells that were banging against that current. After I stood at the wheel for over an hour, riding Brigadoon like she was an angry horse trying to toss me off, we finally approached the bridge.

And there we were, crossing under the Golden Gate.

The bay was calm and beautiful as we motored past the Golden Gate, past Fisherman's Wharf and the city, past Treasure Island and under the Bay Bridge and finally into our slip at 11:30 PM.

That was hard. We were beat.

We covered 822 nautical miles in 11 days, with four days at the dock, and 179 hours of motoring that engine.

Alameda is nice. We have a home for a while.

Brigadoon in her slip in Alameda - September 17, 2019

South Sound Cruising and Prepping to Go - August 2019

We hauled the boat out on July 24th to paint the bottom and check her over.  All looked good - we got the painting done and replaced a sea-cock as part of our maintenance.  Splashing back in on July 31st, we headed over to Point Hudson for a couple of nights before heading south toward Olympia for our August South Sound cruise.

We fueled up and anchored in Port Ludlow for our first two nights out.  While there, Donn discovered our solar wasn't working.  He spent an entire afternoon troubleshooting and fixing it. We then pointed our bow toward Port Madison at the north end of Bainbridge Island.  We anchored there for one night and timed our passage the next day to make it through Agate Pass at slack - ending up in Poulsbo, again at anchor, for two nights.

Poulsbo was great - we took advantage of the port's showers and laundry and enjoyed what the town has to offer.  We did have to deal with a potential dinghy thief after docking our dinghy at the Port dock.  I saw him as we pulled our dinghy up and thought it was odd that he was wading (chest high) through the water under the dock ramp.  He climbed up onto the dock and passed us as we walked up to the ramp to go ashore.  We turned to look at him just as he jumped into our dinghy behind us!  Donn brought out his inner cop and told him in no uncertain terms to get out now and what did he think he was doing?  We alerted dock staff and made sure the guy would not go near our boat again.  I'm pretty sure he wasn't all there mentally - but even so - not a comfortable feeling to have your dinghy at risk like that.

On August 7th - we headed to Bell Harbor for a couple of nights and were lucky enough to dock two slips away from Maiden, a 58 ft racing sailboat, famous for being the boat used by the first all women team in the Whitbread around the world race in 1989.  We saw the documentary back in July in Port Townsend and I was so excited to see this boat, which is on a world tour right now and happened to be stopping in Seattle in early August.  I approached a couple of the crew early on Thursday and asked if and when I'd be able to see her more closely and possibly get a tour.  They informed me they weren't having any public tours until later that weekend (after we'd be gone) - so I asked if there was any way I could see it before Friday morning, when we were leaving.  They said they'd try and would let me know.  Thursday, just before noon, they came over and caught my attention and said I could come visit.  So cool!  A beautiful boat and an amazing crew of women on a mission, sailing her around the world.  When I mentioned we were from Port Townsend, one of the crew shared that they were considering stopping there on their way out to San Francisco, which was their next official stop.  I encouraged them to stop in PT and told them they'd have a HUGE welcome there - which is exactly what happened! We also had a lovely visit with my Dad and Step-mom on board Brigadoon that day.
 
We departed Friday morning and headed south to Gig Harbor, where we anchored once more and stayed for two nights.  A highlight was meeting up with an old friend for breakfast on Saturday at Kelly's Cafe.  Afterwards he drove us out to the grocery store and we shopped and caught the Gig Harbor trolley bus back to the harbor.

Tacoma Narrows Bridge

From Gig Harbor, we headed south again and finally crossed under the Tacoma Narrows Bridge – a first for us.  We stayed one night at anchor in Filucy Bay near Longbranch and then three beautiful nights on a mooring in Jerrell Cove.  On Thursday, August 15^th – we motored down to Swantown Marina in Olympia.  

Jerrell Cove

Olympia was lovely.  We stayed five nights – took lots of walks, ate some good food, enjoyed a one night showing of The Matrix at the local downtown cinema, and spent time with a fellow sailor – Jim, who we’d met during our first winter in Point Hudson.

Leaving Olympia on August 20, we worked our way up to Oro bay – where we spent two quiet nights at anchor.  The morning we were supposed to catch the slack tide under the Narrows and head to Foss Harbor Marina in Tacoma we discovered our anchor didn’t want to come back up to us.  We were doing our usual routine - headsets on, I was at the wheel and Donn was at the bow managing the anchor retrieval.  All the chain was back on board except for the 20+ feet from our bow straight down to the anchor below.  This is when the anchor usually pops out and we slowly bring it up as I keep us steady in place or start to creep out of the anchorage.  Well that wasn’t happening.  Donn asked me to put it in gear in an effort to use the boat’s forward momentum as leverage.  No luck.  In fact, the bow just got pulled lower the more we tried to budge it.  This process continued for several minutes.  Then Donn grabbed the buoy line (our anchor retrieval line we attach to a small float) and brought it back to the cockpit.  He wound it around our larger port side winch and started cranking.  Using this as a trip line now put the anchor at the bottom of a triangle – with the winch on one corner and the bow at the other.  By working at it from both angles, we were finally able to trip it and bring it up.  We still have no idea what it was stuck on, but we made it under the Narrows just in time before the tide turned on us.

Foss Harbor had been our home for a year and a half in 2015-16.  For this visit we had been given a slip close to the office – the innermost slip on D dock, and as we turned into the fairway, I was standing at the bow keeping a lookout for our slip as I always do.  We were about halfway down the fairway when I realized our slip wasn’t empty.  I called back to Donn to let him know.  And then things got interesting…   Our boat is 42 feet overall.  The fairway we were in was 55 feet wide.  Since Brigadoon doesn’t back up worth a damn, Donn now had to "back and fill" turn her around in that much space.  Fortunately, we didn’t have much wind to speak of and he managed to maneuver us back out and into a temporary slip at the fuel dock.  The offending boat finally left an hour or so later and we were able to dock with no further issues.  Our stay at Foss Harbor was wonderful – caught up with several old friends and enjoyed an outdoor movie (The Goonies) as part of Foss’ outdoor movie series.  

Sunday, August 25^th we headed north again and decided to stop by the Blake Island Marina to see if there might be space.  This marina is notoriously busy in the summers and it’s a bit small. And… we got lucky!  We snagged a nice spot at the end of the dock and settled in for a quiet two night stay.  We enjoyed ice cream from the park ranger’s office store and a few nice walks.  

That luck changed when Donn lost his beautiful (and expensive) prescription sunglasses overboard while working at the edge of the cockpit while we were docked.  He had loosened the boom and was reaching up to work on something. A gust came up and the boom came toward him – his glasses got knocked off and he held on as he watched them disappear into the dark water between us and the dock.  The tide was up at that point, but he tried to dredge for them with our net on a long pole.  That failed, but the next morning he decided to put on his wetsuit and go in at low tide to try to look for them.  No dice – the glasses were gone.  Lesson learned?  ALWAYS wear glasses tethers when moving about the boat.

From Blake Island we hopped up to Eagle Harbor on Bainbridge Island and found a nice spot on the city dock for the night.  We had a lovely dinner with sailing friends in town.  This is definitely a nice spot to stay that gives you access to Bainbridge Island and the ferry to Seattle.

Wednesday, August 28 we departed Eagle Harbor with the promise of a nice breeze from the north for our hop across the Sound to Bell Harbor.  We had a wonderful sail!  Took our time and sailed pretty much a straight shot across.  We had planned to sit in Bell Harbor one last time so I could hop a ferry to Bremerton and teach a session at a Women’s retreat on Friday, August 30.  While there, we enjoyed dinner at my sister and brother-in-law’s home, caught up with more friends, ate really good fudge, and Donn finished one of the most appreciated projects in our salon.

We had discussed creating a “pit” on the port side where the short settee and table were.  This involved putting the table in its “away” position against the bulkhead and building a platform extension for the settee.  This would not only give us a nice large sitting/lounging area but would also create more storage underneath for heavier items like our watermaker and sewing machine.  I ordered up the foam to put on top and Donn finished building it while I was at the retreat.  It has proven to be extremely useful and comfortable.

Our final push back to Port Townsend where we would prep for the big trip down the coast included a one night stay at Port Ludlow where we enjoyed a nice dinner at the Fireside.  We arrived back at Point Hudson on Monday – Labor Day.  Our departure was scheduled for Thursday morning.  Three nights to prep the boat, get crew settled, and provision – not to mention saying goodbye to family and friends for the last time before leaving Washington State.

Docked at Point Hudson - prepped for departure

August was exactly what we had needed.  It was a wonderful trip full of adventures, tests, and fun.

Decisions, Decisions...

Written by: Kerry

At the dock in Cow Bay Marina, Prince Rupert, BC

I think it first occurred to us that we may not make it all the way to Alaska when we hit Nanaimo and realized that we were already half way through May.  It came up in conversation once in awhile, but I always countered that we still had time and the whole goal of this trip (for me) was to make it to Alaska!  So onward we went, ever northward, with the goal in mind of making it, at the very least, to Ketchikan.  You see, when one cruises to Alaska on one's own boat, you must check into customs in Ketchikan - that is the process and there are no alternatives.

With this in mind, we did not waver on our commitment to take as much time as we needed to journey north, whether from waiting out bad weather, or simply needing a day or two of downtime to rest and enjoy the beauty around us from a safe harbor or anchorage.  We reached Shearwater, another milestone along the way, on June 20th.  Time was ticking away.  We'd agreed to be back in Port Townsend by the first week of August, so that we'd have enough time to see family and friends, attend the Perry Rendezvous (an annual gathering of Robert Perry designed boats) in Port Ludlow, and prep for our big trip south.  The plan was to leave PT by the end of the summer, heading to San Francisco, down the rest of the California Coast, and on to Mexico by winter.  We wanted to reserve at least 2-3 weeks to make the trip home from Alaska, planning to travel quickly via more open water on the west side of Vancouver Island, but also account for weather delays, etc.  On June 20th, with not a lot of time left, we pressed on.

Fast forward to the last couple of days travelling up to Prince Rupert.  I started seriously questioning this need to get to Alaska.  Donn listened. He kept telling me it was my decision - saying he had always signed on to go up to Alaska and we would, because it was my dream.  My original plan was to get up there with enough time to truly explore SE Alaska a bit and see some of its beauty from our own boat.  But with time ticking away, my heart and brain were struggling to come to terms with not making it all the way to Alaska on our trip to ALASKA.

On our 10 hour day motor-sailing to Prince Rupert, we reached a point where our cell phones started receiving service again.  I hadn't talked to my mom in a few weeks, so Donn encouraged me to give her a call.  I did.  We were so happy to hear each other's voices again and, as we quickly caught up, I explained my dilemma to Mom.  She listened.  I kept talking through my thought process and the pros and cons of each path.  If we stayed in Prince Rupert and didn't go on, we could actually spend a couple of weeks relaxing in one place, explore a new town, get some more projects done and prep ourselves for the adventure of getting home.  If we continued on to Ketchikan, we would have fulfilled our goal of getting to Alaska and we'd get to experience Ketchikan.  As I talked, it became really obvious to me that my mind was reaching a decision.  Our conversation ended with my promise to call after arriving in Prince Rupert to fill her in on final plans.

Can you guess what we've decided to do?  Yeah, we're staying put.  The minute I said it out loud, a huge peace fell over me.  That night I slept over 12 hours.  My body needs rest, my soul needs to put down (temporary) roots for a little while.  Donn is pleased also.  We worked with the marina manager to stay here for a few weeks and voila - here we are.  We've already explored town a bit, they have a nice library and pool that I hope to make use of.  We've done some grocery shopping and lots of laundry.  Tonight we may even go see a movie!

Having that goal to reach Alaska got us this far.  I'm really happy about that.  As far as needing to go all the way across the border, well, I'm okay with not making it.  This trip is for us - to learn, to shakedown the boat and ourselves.  We're doing that.  We're seeing amazing places and meeting awesome people.  I really have no complaints, and so much to be thankful for.

So we're in Prince Rupert until July 22nd or so.  Another exciting announcement is that we will have a 3rd crew member joining us for our trip home, to help with our virgin off-shore passage.  David Cohen, a good friend of ours from Seattle, is flying up here on July 19th.  He's part owner of a J-boat, has lots of sailing/racing experience and in Donn's words is "competent, sane, responsible and familiar".  Should be a good trip home.

The "Outer Passage"

Written by: Kerry

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

- Robert Frost (The Road Not Taken) 1920

Brigadoon at the dock in Shearwater, BC, with bald eagle.

We left Shearwater on Saturday, June 24th, having done lots of research about our next leg of the trip that would bring us up to Prince Rupert, the typical jumping off point for Alaskan waters.  We had expected to plan and take the more inside route, also known as the "Inside Passage", which follows more protected waters and is used by the BC ferries, many cruise ships, tugs, and most cruisers.  We looked it over closely and weren't majorly impressed with the choice of anchorages - both for distance between them and for depths.  I have no doubt the passages are beautiful and protected, but then we started to look at other options...

From Seaforth Channel into Milbanke Sound, we looked at how to get around Price Island and continue north without going up to Klemtu and the inside waters.  We decided to go to Louisa Cove for our first night out to see what Milbanke was like and make our final decisions on which direction to go, with the primary thought to continue on to Aristazabal Island the following day assuming we weren't too freaked out by the more open water.  Well if you look at the lowest black dot on the map above, that is Louisa Cove - and you'll notice we didn't stop there at all.  Here's what happened...

We were cruising out of Seaforth Channel and I casually brought up the idea of not stopping at Louisa at all, but going straight on to our first anchorage at Aristazabal, Wheeteeam Bay.  Donn pondered that and told me he'd think about it.  It seemed like a beautiful day and the conditions seemed mellow enough to try, so we continued to talk about it and as we broke out into Milbanke, we adjusted the route on the chart and steamed through to Wheeteeam.  The most remarkable moment of that day's journey was going through Catala Passage at the bottom of Price Island.  It's usually more protected waters and gives one a slight shortcut through to Laredo Sound.

  As you can see above, it also requires careful navigation around many islets and rocks.  We were both on point watching our way as we motored through.  It was stunning scenery, almost ghostly with mists and rock formations all around us.  Unfortunately no photos were taken, as we were so focused on staying safe...

Instead of a 4-5 hour day, we had about a 10 hour day when all was said and done, but we had left early and arrived with plenty of daylight remaining, finding a beautiful place to anchor.  We ended up staying there for 2 nights to give ourselves time to recover and also explore the beautiful bay with its endless coves and inlets.  It was truly stunning.

Low tidal flat in Wheeteeam Bay

When we left Wheeteeam Bay we continued our way north with the next target anchorage at the top of Aristazabal Island - Tate Cove in Borrowman Bay.  This stop ended up being one of our most rewarding and fun of the entire trip.  We arrived on a Monday afternoon and stayed until Thursday morning to wait out strong forecast winds.

Monday evening, as another boat pulled in and anchored near us, we realized we were looking at another Baba - little sister to our boat - a Baba 30.  The best part though?  Their boat's name was "Camelot".  Two Babas in the same cove is good enough, but two Babas with names like "Brigadoon" and "Camelot"?  How awesome is that???   Two boats named after mythical places, both told as musicals. I didn't stop giggling about it all week.

Camelot - Doug and John on their way to Haida Gwaii to meet up with their wives

On Tuesday, we went nosing about in the dinghy...  The cove next to us had a huge floating fishing lodge set up on a barge with multiple ties to shore and dock space for a small sport fishing fleet.  As we came close, they (nicely) warned us away from their dock, as they were expecting a helicopter landing any minute.  We dutifully left and did not return to bother them.  However, as we were leaving, another skiff with a driver and a black dog in the bow came up to us and invited us over to stretch out legs later if we wanted.  It was then we realized there was ANOTHER floating structure behind the lodge.  This turned out to be the home of Rick and Jeanne Beaver and their dog, Skipper.

Home of Rick and Jeanne Beaver

They are a retired couple who started creating this little floating homestead about 14 years ago.  They live here year round and use everything around them - most of their docks and structures were all built from found wood drifted up on the beach.  They create art and tend gardens in boxes and a little green house in back.  The little wood hut at the far left is a wood fired hot tub.  They welcomed us with open arms and a bit later Doug and John from "Camelot" showed up in their kayaks and we all hung out for awhile.  Jeanne and I had a great time sharing stories and getting to know each other while the guys all checked out Rick's various projects outside.  When it came time to head back to the boat, Jeanne piped up and said "Hey! Let's all get together tomorrow evening for a potluck!"  We all loved the idea, decided what we would each bring and bid adieu with promises of more fun the next day.

I spent the next day reading and relaxing on the boat.  Donn went for a hike on his own and then later got picked up by Rick in his skiff with the other two guys (and Skipper) and taken on a tour of the nearby islets and beaches (I stayed behind because I was enjoying my book too much).  We all convened around 6pm and had a lovely evening in the Beavers' home.  I convinced Donn to bring his guitar to entertain after dinner and it was a huge hit.  They loved his music and even suggested he check with a local hotel lounge in Prince Rupert about playing there when we arrived.  It was hard to say goodbye - but we decided we could easily stop there again on the way home - so we hope to see them again soon.

One of Jeanne's gardens, with Skipper in the background

Doug, John, Me, Donn, Jeanne, and Rick

We had plotted out our next stops between Aristazabal Island and Prince Rupert and each one went as planned.  We stayed a night in Weinberg Inlet on Campania Island, which was stunning.

Mount Pender on Campania Island

Then we stayed two nights in Patterson Inlet on Pitt Island due to heavy rain.  We woke up the first morning, knowing we had planned to leave around 10 or 11am.  We listened from our bunk as the rain poured down onto the deck and looked at each other and decided we could afford another day in this beautiful place and not brave the rain just yet.

We left Patterson and headed for Newcombe Harbour inside of Petrel channel, out last stop before a long day to Prince Rupert.  We enjoyed a little sailing that day, although the winds were light.  As we rounded into the channel for Newcombe Harbour, the winds picked up, with rain threatening to douse us.  Donn got two photos as we headed in...

Bald Eagle flying off a perch inside Newcombe Harbour

Newcombe Harbour was tricky, as our ideal anchorage depth was located in a trough in the middle of shallow mud flats.  Water covered it all, so except for our charting software, we had no idea of where those shallows started.  I inched our way in and watched the depth sounder.  As I got a little too close for comfort, I started to turn up into the wind to find a good spot and saw depths as low as 13 feet cross beneath us.  We safely anchored in about 34 feet a little ways out as a huge gust of wind blew us sideways hard, setting our anchor perfectly with the rain letting loose on us all at the same time.  As the rain died down that evening, Donn noted that he could hear multiple rivers and waterfalls around us as we sat there in the middle of the little bay.  This is another spot we hope to visit on our way back, hopefully with nicer weather.

Our final leg to Prince Rupert was about 10 hours - we left at 4:30am to catch Petrel Narrows at low water slack and everything was smooth as we glided through.  I sat in the bow to watch for logs in the early morning light and marveled at the beautiful scenery around us.  Simply gorgeous and so humbling.  We both remarked how happy we were to have taken the outer passage.  We barely saw any other boat traffic under way and never shared an anchorage with more than 1-2 boats.  The conditions were benign, we barely had enough wind to sail, and only did so about 1/4 of the way.  As we plan our return, we'll take this option again - no doubt in our minds.

Competence as a Travel Partner

Refitting Brigadoon over the last two months has become a whirlwind of plans, discoveries, revisions, and shifting priorities. We are on the last month with just weeks to go. The marching days keep our attention and intent forward – always forward. Every time we turn around, there’s something we haven’t expected, even though we expected a lot.

Our days have been filled with sanding, cleaning, generators, impact drivers, electric calking guns, anchor chains, outboards, wind vanes, tiller pilots, sand blasting, spreader lights, water makers, solar installation, bilge pumps, bedding port lights, sealing windows, cleaning water tanks, masthead lights, and more...

Rudder inspection became a complete reengineering of our rudder and quadrants. Chain plate inspections ended up being after the fact, as we decided that replacement chain plates were just the right thing to do. Reengineering the chain plate covers meant a sometimes-torturous learning process in how best to cut and shape epoxy-fiber materials. A curiosity about our anchor windlass encouraged us to take a chance and try the old “clean it and grease it and see if it works now” trick that I’ve used many times on old machinery over the years – it worked, saving us an easy grand. I spent days sanding and polishing a 30 year old mast so we could build it right. 

On an almost daily basis, I’ve dredged into my past, pulling up old skills, applying what I know, however I can, to solve the latest challenge and get us there. Thankfully, my personal toolkit is varied and broad; that’s been by design. I’ve never wanted to be the expert at one thing, instead content and satisfied to be good at many. Good, in this case, means competent. Eighty percent mastery is good enough, if it’s in enough disciplines. With it comes a surety, a knowing that problems are solvable. 

Why?

My whole life’s experience has brought me here, to this place and time, where the kid who loved science, art and adventure, who collected experiences instead of things, can grow up to do this.

As I told Kerry the other night, “This is the happiest I’ve ever been. I don’t belong anywhere else or with anyone else. I belong here, with you.”

The Ups and Downs of Limbo

We've been in Port Townsend for four weeks.  Amazing how time flies...enjoying the comforts of my parents' home, emptying the boat of all our belongings in preparation for the work we're doing; setting up various vendors and appointments to make everything happen the way we want before we depart for real in April.

Here are some observations:

1) Living on land again is interesting, if a bit weird.  I'm definitely enjoying the luxuries of a full kitchen, showers and laundry in house, and of course being with family.  But I also kind of miss our little home on the water and being rocked to sleep at night.  I cannot express how grateful we are to have the opportunity to live with my parents while we do this work - it's making a lot of this process SO much easier on a lot of levels.

2) All of our personal belongings fit within the footprint of a single car space in a garage.

The pile of stuff.

3) We've so far had amazing interactions with the shipyard (Port Townsend Shipwrights Co-op) we'll be working with and the vendors we are using, including Port Townsend Foundry.   Our mast is getting pulled on Monday, and the boat will haul out on Wednesday.  We're scheduled to be inside their shed for about three weeks - during which they will do some contracted work for us.  We'll also take advantage of being out of the weather to get some work done ourselves while she's inside.  (More about this to-do list in a later post)

4) Port Townsend is a charming town - we've had to get used to the low speed limits, which pretty much everyone observes, and some odd driving habits here and there - but the restaurants, the people, the deer, and the scenery around here are all pretty wonderful.  My mom has even talked me into joining the local community choir for the Winter/Spring concert season, which concludes right in time for us to leave.

5) My transition from working 7-4 at a real job has been mostly smooth.  Obviously it's been lovely to sleep as long as I want most nights and not have to answer to anyone else other than myself and Donn for what I do all day.  But it hasn't been all about laying around and reading or playing on my phone - we go to the boat just about every single day and get *something* done.  Whether it's cleaning, prepping for mast removal/haulout, or wrapping our heads around the extensive list of stuff we want to get done in the next two months - we've been working steadily since we've been here and it's only going to get busier starting next week.  I struggle a bit with some anxiety around all this, hoping I'm able to do my part even though I will be learning how/what to do every step of the way.  

I'm embedded in this odd limbo world - we've left our old life, but not yet started the journey.  Lots of work between now and then.  But I keep reminding myself - it's like any other project I've ever taken on - be it theater or day job.  One step at at time.  The goal is just there, on the horizon, within reach.  

Asking for Help

On a Facebook group I’m on, a new boat owner recently asked for a little help. They had just purchased the boat and said they were a little nervous about taking her 30 miles to her new berth. Someone (that would be med) suggested just hiring a professional Captain for the trip. It would be a great learning opportunity.

This suggestion was immediately met with a dismissal.

“It’s only 30 miles. Who needs a captain for that? Just go do it,” they wrote.

This is the perfect dismissive advice to shame someone into doing something stupid. If someone says they want help, if they say they aren’t comfortable, it’s an honest thing to say. Asking for help means you are a better sailor, not a worse one.

Hiring a Captain is not a big deal. It's a learning opportunity. I've been sailing since I was nine. I know how to sail. When I bought Brigadoon (my largest, heaviest and most complex boat ever to date), I had been off the water for a decade. She is a serious cruising boat, with much heavier gear, higher loads, and a higher possibility for damage or injury. I knew how to sail but I wanted to ensure I was ready for Brigadoon.

I went to Seattle Sailing and hired a professional captain for a "checkride". When I was a pilot we did this all the time to ensure competency, good decision making, and safety. It’s required for pilots and for good reason. The good idea isn’t restricted to pilots, though. Why not get someone to check you out, give you an opportunity to learn, and make you a better (sailor, aviator, motorcyclist, climber, etc.)?  We went out in a comparable sized boat. He walked me through everything. I knew almost all of it but I still learned a thing or two.

There was another benefit. I had another experienced sailor’s eyes on me. They saw habits that are invisible to me. They suggested possible ways to do things. They provided me with some local knowledge.

I’ve always liked teachers. Years of studying under various mentors have driven home the value of being a student, of discovering how little I know about something, and how much there is yet to know. Competence blindness is an easy trap to fall into. We get comfortable with what we know. We ignore the shortcuts or mistakes we make because nothing bad has happened yet. We avoid learning some skills or taking on some challenges because, well, we don’t want to be challenged. It’s the easy thing to do; lie to ourselves about our skills and abilities because it’s convenient.

I welcome the observations, even the criticisms, of those with more experience, even just different experience, than myself. The outside eye is usually more honest than our own. It pays to listen to informed opinions.

Hire someone to teach you. Find a mentor. Learn from them.

It doesn't mean a person isn't competent. It means they are ensuring their competence is better than they would normally be willing to settle for. Don’t settle with what skills and abilities you currently have. You might think they are enough. You might be right. It will take just one situation where you are wrong.