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.

Thank you, Prince Rupert, it's been a wonderful visit!

Brigadoon at the Breakwater dock at Cow Bay Marina in Price Rupert

Written by: Kerry

So we've been here for almost three weeks and it's been a lovely visit.  We've enjoyed a few restaurants, a couple of movies, some library time, four visits to the local aquatic center, a few museum trips, some good ice cream, and a good deal of much needed relaxation.  Cow Bay Marina has been nothing but lovely - great staff, great location, and superb facilities.

Donn got a few projects completed while here, including: installation of our tiller (auto) pilot, replacement of running backstay shackles half way up the mast with lower profile pins, replacement and redesign of the staysail sheets for a 2-1 purchase, installation and testing of the lifeboat canopy for our dinghy, and various boat maintenance/chores.  We also both worked on editing Donn's novel and are getting very close to publication - hoping to do this when we get back to Port Townsend in August.

Speaking of Port Townsend... tomorrow, Saturday, July 22nd, we begin our return trip southward towards our home waters of Puget Sound.  This past Wednesday, our friend David, an experienced sailor in his own right, flew in from Seattle to join us as a third crew member for our foray into offshore sailing.  He's settled in nicely, we managed to make room for him, and we think it's going to be a great trip back.

Our plan:

Tomorrow we leave the dock, head out into the Prince Rupert Bay and commission our tiller pilot, work the sails and hydrovane a bit and acclimate David to our boat.  We'll anchor in a nearby bay on Saturday evening.  Sunday we'll retrace our steps back towards Borrowman Bay on Aristazabal Island - including anchorages in Newcombe Harbour, Patterson Inlet, and Weinberg Inlet.  From Borrowman, the current plan is to head directly south into Queen Charlotte Sound making a beeline for the outside of Vancouver Island and arcing out into the western offshore waters and down to the Strait of Juan De Fuca.  We hope to do this last part non-stop, 24/7, keeping a watch schedule and experiencing night sailing for the first time.  We have all agreed that we'll head into one of the harbours on the west coast of Vancouver Island if we need/want to or are having any weather issues, etc.  If we do manage to do it non-stop, it'll be a 3-4 day trip from Aristazabal to Port Angeles.  If you want to follow along, you're welcome to check our progress here:  Brigadoon Tracker.

We'll be away from wi-fi starting tomorrow, so we'll be going internet silent until we get home.  We'll catch you up on all the adventures then!

During our last visit to the Aquatic Center, I had the fun opportunity to test one of our older life vests, which we needed to re-arm and update for David.  Here is the video of how that went:

And here are some photos from our time here - Enjoy!  

Dead Rockfish found in the middle of the street - photo by David Cohen

New tiller pilot - photo by Donn Christianson

Storm windows installed on the pilot house - photo by Donn Christianson

Ruins at Historical Northwest Cannery - Photo by Donn Christianson

Historical Northwest Cannery - Photo by Donn Christianson

The Sunken Gardens in Prince Rupert - Photo by David Cohen

Otter mural on the outside of the Earl Mah Aquatic Center - Photo by David Cohen

Stone carving outside totem carving hall in Prince Rupert - Photo by Donn Christianson

Living the Yotting LIfe

Written by: Donn

We are six weeks or so into this adventure of cruising on the yacht Brigadoon. It's been five years of planning, five years of sacrifices, hard work, missed schedules, changing plans, but we are here.

"It's been a long road,
getting from there to here.
It's been a long road,
But our time is finally near.

I can see my dream come alive at last..."

Getting this far has been a beautifully challenging mix and, it's nothing, I tell you, nothing like living on land. The interesting thing has been the assumptions we've been witness to and the target of, as we embark on and continue this adventure.

For example, in a conversation about my country (The USA) a friend raised a very political question about our immigration policies:

"There are no developed countries a US citizen can go to and, so long as we physically make it onto the soil, are welcomed with open arms, no questions asked, and immediately provided all the benefits of natives. No matter who we are or how sad our story, if we don’t follow their rules we’re turned around and sent right back where we came from. They require we follow their rules or they don’t let us in.

The same countries we’re jealous of for their “free” healthcare and extensive social programs also have very strict immigration rules. They clearly value the interests of their own citizens over those of others."

My basic response was, "We (edit: this country) are rich enough to take them all and provide for health care for all, if we choose to. There is nothing special about being born here."

I meant it. My country is rich beyond measure and, if it weren't for the greed corrupting our high ideals, I truly believe we could set an example to the world, if only we wanted to.

Setting that political question aside, because I have no interest in debating that here, I'd like to focus on his response and the assumptions contained therein.

"Since I know you to have a very good sense of humor I'll just ask: Are you being funny, or is a guy who's currently sailing around the world on a yacht telling the rest of us how easy it is to embrace the huddled masses?

My friend has since apologized for his assumptions, that we are some rich, well off yachties, sailing around the world, telling him and others what they should do with their guilt. Let's talk about those assumptions, because this isn't the first time we've run into them. They are in Facebook posts about young couples who threw it all way to take on the sailing life, tossing aside the normal cares of the work-a-day world, leaving all of those wage slaves behind. They visit tropical islands, far flung places, arriving on their yacht, only to depart for another paradise the next week.

Allow me to inject a little reality into this life we have chosen and share a little bit about us.

First off -- the money. We are not rich, or even well off anymore. True, we had fairly high paying jobs but, we used all those resources to pay off our debt, outfit our yacht to make her safe and seaworthy, and set aside a little for living expenses. There is some savings but, we are basically unemployed at this time and I, for one, have no plans on ever working for anyone else, ever. Not ever again. I'm working on a novel, which I hope people will like and buy but, aside from that, it's our savings and my modest retirement that will see us through this adventure. Money aside, let's talk about what it's been like to go cruising on a yacht.

Brigadoon is our home. She contains all our earthly possessions within the confines of her hull. This includes clothes, food, art, tools, spares and anything else we think we might need. That means that, when we are sitting in a beautiful cove, surrounded by towering firs and cedars, with eagles flying overhead and otters playing in the cove, we still have to fix that leaking water pump or get that diesel stove working so we can keep warm. There is no ordering of parts from Amazon Prime (and getting what we need in two days). There is no mechanic to call, who will arrive and fix the problem while we go out to dinner and a movie. There is no store to drive to (if we still had a car), to get what we need. We have to be resourceful and make do with our resourcefulness and parts on hand. No one is coming to save us.

Imagine if you had to work on sink at home. The water isn't coming out. You can't just have someone replace it. You can't just run to the big box hardware store in your car and get a new faucet. Water pressure is supplied by a pump, not the city. By the way, all your water (80 gallons of it), is stored under the floor of your living room. The pump is located in the corner of a closet, hidden behind fishing poles, dock lines, buckets, and a host of other things that must be stored there. You have to remove all those things to get to it and, they have to stay on the boat. There is no spare room to move them to, so you stack them in your small back porch, hopefully in a corner so you can still walk around.

You need tools and spares.

The spare water pump is located under your bed. Not under it like you just reach under a regular bed under it, like inside the the box springs, under the mattress. You have to lift the mattress with the block and tackle (it weighs 80 pounds) and dig though various spares.

Tools are located under and inside your couch in the living room, so you have to tear all the cushions off and put them on top of your bed. The rest of the tools and miscellaneous spares are located under the cushions of your love seat, so you have to take the cushions and pillows off that too and put them on your bed.

You now have absolutely no place to sit, but it's time to get to work while otters play along the shoreline and majestic bald eagles hunt from hundreds-year-old fir trees along the granite cliffs surrounding the beautiful cove in which you are anchored.

You work on the problem until it is solved, or you give up for a break -- remember there is now nowhere to sit? You get back to work until you solve the problem. Simple as that. You have nothing but what is on the boat and you can't go get anything else you need. When you do finally solve the problem, because you have to, you simply have to, you put all the stuff back.

All the tools and spares have to be put away in some semblance of order so you can find/use them again. Once that is done, you dig all the cushions our of your bed and put them back on your couch and love seat so you can sit down again.

If you are skilled, resourceful and lucky (never discount this), you fixed the problem and can now enjoy the paradise in which you are currently anchored.

Then the house heater malfunctions the next day. You start moving cushions again, lather, rinse repeat.

Until the next problem.

So you plan your road trip to a destination twenty miles away. You check the weather, because winds and road conditions can literally swallow your car and everything you own. If the road is too bumpy today, it might be too dangerous to go. You double check the route to make sure there are no obstacles in your path on maps you have never seen before, and you have to trust that they are correct. If they aren't, and you hit one of those obstacles, the road can literally swallow your car and everyone inside. You might want to call for help or a tow but, no one may respond and, if you really screw up, no one is likely to find you. You make sure you have enough fuel (there are no gas stations en-route). You make sure you have enough food in your fridge (there are no stores on your route). Do you carry spares or a means to replace or repair every single part of your vehicle (there are no stores or mechanics along your route). Do you even know how?

Then, if everything is ready, you leave the beautiful cove, with the playful otters, the shell beaches, the hunting eagles and the bears (don't forget the bear spray). You take the car our of park (manually lift a 46 lb anchor and 160 lbs of chain) and hit the road.

Along the way you may find that the weather report lied or the conditions simply changed. The roads are now outright dangerous. You have to find a safe parking lot and you hope your parking brake (anchor) can hold you in place until the weather passes. You find it and decide dinner is called for -- the stove doesn't light because one of the propane tanks is empty, so you have to go out to the back porch and switch to the backup.

Then you discover the knocking noise every time you turn the steering wheel...the last person (not you, then you who tried to fix it the first time) didn't solve it.

But the place you parked is beautiful and, when the storm blows over the next day, you find yourself in a Yottie's paradise, surrounded by towering fir trees, hunting eagles and kingfishers, otters and maybe an occasional porpoise or whale. You are in paradise for a day and, to be honest, it was worth it to get here, even if the bumpy road tossed everything in the car just simply everywhere.

But you earned every eagle, every otter, every skinny dip in a warm mountain lake, every stroll along pristine shell beaches.

Even if no one really understands what it took to get here.

And you'll do it again the next day, and the day after that, because you want to.

We Have a Mast

It's been a long road, with tons of sanding disks, rivets, taps, machine screws, tape, Lanacote and some blood here and there. After all that, today, the stick went in. We have a mast.

Photos courtesy of :Ray Zebas

Thanks to Anders and Jeff of PT Shipwright's Co-Op and Gus the crane guy.

Oh, and Kerry, my dedicated and hard working First Mate.

The day started out calm and promising.

Brigadoon lay ready for her mast.

Gus the crane operator arrives as promised, making us very happy, after we have to cancel yesterday. He did some quick schedule juggling yesterday and wrote a check of hope he cashed today. It was great to see him arrive early.

And here comes the mast, for the second time in as many days.

Masthead, with anti-bird Mohawk.

All wrapped up nice and safe.

Gus, the crane operator, rigging our mast while some guy who I have no idea who he is, tries to stuff a check at Gus. I was too busy to whip out my, "do you mind waiting just a moment and not distract my crane operator while he is rigging my job," speech. I still puzzle at it, looking at this photo.

Check guy goes away, the spar is rigged and up she goes.

Some very careful walking to Anders and Jeff...

Kerry hands it back to Jeff, who came down to the boat...

And we get ready to lower the spar.

Kerry clears the electrical, which has to feed down first.

Anders and Jeff, making sure it's right.

At this point the spar is mostly in the boat.

The unskilled help is sent below to catch the mast.

After some wiggling, the spar slipped onto the step.

Furlers are installed.

The smooth as glass marina made this job much easier. It would have been very difficult yesterday.

And there she is, with her spar standing and rigging good and snug.