Fear and Sailing

This is an entry from, Kerry, the First Mate of Brigadoon.  It's regarding our last weekend out.  My own post will follow shortly.

Posted with her permission...

So..  I'm learning how to sail.  I figured that since I am now living on a sailboat, I should probably learn how to sail.  And Donn is hoping to take the boat out as much as possible, especially as the weather gets warmer, etc.

Last weekend we motored down to the south end of Lake Washington, spent the night and then had some fun sailing back part of the way.  

This weekend, we were determined to get out into the Sound.  And hopefully cross over to Blakely Harbor on Bainbridge Island and spend the night there.  The weather wasn't exactly optimal on Saturday morning, but it wasn't bad either - so we set out.  Two bridges, a pass by my Dad's marina while he took pictures of us from his dock, and we were at the locks.  I felt fairly prepared for this - we had visited as tourists a few times and Donn had talked me through what I needed to do up at the bow.  All went pretty smoothly in and out of the small lock.  Good.

As we cruise out past Shilshole and start figuring out our next course of action, I notice the waves aren't small (at least by my standards).  We head into the wind - Donn is planning to put up the main and the staysail.  I'm at the helm while he prepares to raise the main and I'm feeling a few things... cold, on task, and a little nervous.  He's up there getting stuff done,  the boat is bucking into the waves and it's sprinkling on us a bit.

We start to sail heading west - the boat hits 7 knots pretty easily with the wind from the north.  It was actually kind of exhilerating if it hadn't been so damn cold.  We have my laptop open on the nav table and can see it through the pilot house windows.  We have software that connects to our GPS and puts us on a chart so we can track our progress and set a course.  It's pretty cool and I'm keeping my eye on it.

Then we start heading south towards Bainbridge.  The wind is mostly behind us and we're "running" which means Donn has to pay a lot more attention to possible jibes, which can be scary if they happen unplanned.  We're chopping through some pretty rough water and I'm thinking to myself, "well - this is just a small taste of what it would be like on the open ocean...  am I up for this?"   I told myself I was fine, cold, but fine and tried to sit up in the cockpit with Donn and much as I could.  When I got too cold, I'd head inside to the pilothouse.

I was starting to feel the motion of the boat as we were getting closer to Blakely.  We were in 3-4 foot waves at this point and the boat was reacting appropriately.   We were getting lots of spray, and some splashing over the boat now and then as well.  I was starting to feel stressed for some reason.  I knew the boat was solid - it wasn't really about that.  It was about my ability to deal with that much motion, hold on and get things done when and if I needed to - without falling down or even worse, falling overboard.  

Then it was time to lower the main and things got really scary for me.  Donn had me take the wheel and we pointed north up into the wind again.  This meant that we were headed staight into these big waves and the boat was crashing up and over and down again.  Meanwhile Donn was going FORWARD in the middle of all of this, to lower the main and batten it down as best he could until we got into quieter waters.  I held the course, prayed that he could do what he needed to do, while holding on, and that the boat wouldn't buck him off.  I had no idea what I would do if he went in the water.... I mean yes, I would circle and come around to him, and call for help if I needed to - but getting him back in the boat in that kind of wind and water?  I was having trouble with that idea.  So - I kept doing what I'd been told - kept the boat pointed in the wind and watched Donn as the bow came up and crashed down with large waves washing the deck up front.  Donn, thank god, held on and got it all done.  He came back, rolled up the staysail and we went inside to drive from there.  

All of a sudden the feelings I'd been feeling started rising up the surface.  I felt overwhelmed and afraid - and part of me was ashamed for feeling that way.  I wanted Donn to trust me as a first mate and know that I'd be there for him.  But all I wanted to do was sit there and cry.  He looked over at me and asked how I was doing and I couldn't answer, but the tears started coming out.  He got us into the much quieter harbor safely and we put out the anchor and settled in for the night.  He said he had no problem with me getting stressed out and emotional.  This had been our choppiest experience yet on Brigadoon and our first time out in Puget Sound.   

Our ride home this morning was much mellower and even a little sunny, although still cold.  We had a chance to talk more about yesterday and I realized that it's not bad that I feel these fears and work through them.  I'm not going to stop sailing and I'm going to keep learning.  Fear on this level is a rare thing for me - it's not often I put myself in a situation that could be lethal if something goes wrong.  Weather is something we can't control.  We can only avoid it (when possible) or move through it and with it as skillfully as we can when it's encountered.

I'm left with a feeling of accompishment that I made it through the sail yesterday.  And I'm no longer ashamed at my emotional release as we were heading in the harbor.  Crying has always been my form of release and I sure needed it after that ride.  Brigadoon is an incredibly solid boat - and we continue to learn about her and how she reacts to certain conditions and sail trims.  It's good.  We're all learning together.  One sail at a time.

It's one of those days...

Where you want to be home. Where you want to be out there, instead of in here, in this office, at this computer, working because you have to, not because you want to.

Then you realize why you sit there, at that computer, at that job, dealing with mostly good people, some not as good; because it's a J.O.B.  That job, is why you have a picture of yourself sitting on the prow of your very rare Baba 35 "Flying Duchman" Pilot House Cutter, at your million dollar view of Seattle, on the north shore of Lake Union.

It's why you got to go out last weekend, among the water and the birds, your beautiful and talented first mate aboard.  It's why you will be able to go out this coming weekend, on Puget Sound, over salt water; a taste of what may be to come in your future.

It's why you have plans to pay down that debt and, if things go right, you can make the Freedom part of the Freedom Project real.  It's money, but it's not that much money.  It's do-able, possible, something within your reach.

It's on one of these days that you are grateful to be healthy, to have the beautiful and reliable Kerry and Brigadoon in your life.

And it makes one of those days at the J.O.B. not so bad after all.

First Overnight

We have been planning this for a couple weeks; our first overnight trip on Brigadoon. We have been living aboard for just over five months and have not been able to spend the night on her anywhere else but at our dock on Lake Union.

So we planned a trip westward, out the raising the Fremont Bridge, the Ballard Bridge, through the locks and into the salt water sound.  We were going to sail around a bit, then spend the night at Shilshole, returning through the ship canal to our slip on Sunday.

Well, that wasn't to be.  The weather forecast called for Saturday being crappy,with scattered crappiness, increasing to steady crappy at 11:00 PM, dawning Sunday to increased chance of crappy.

I made a captains decision that handling the locks, for our first time, in pouring rain, would not be a good idea.  So...what to do...what to do?

I decided that only two bridges would be better and, since we have not exercised our ground tackle yet or passed south of the 520 bridge, we would head east then south to Andrews Bay near Seward Park and spend the night on the hook.

The route is almost 19 miles.

We took off around noon on Saturday and headed for the fuel dock, for our first refueling in five months.  I had to repair the fuel filler because the previous one was frozen shut.  So, after taking on 10 gallons of diesel we headed for the University Bridge.  As we approached, I grabbed our horn and, after yelling, "Horn!", pushed the button.

Nothing.  Not even a peep.  It was supposed to make a very loud noise.  I sent Kerry below to fetch the spare charge for the horn I had recently purchased for just such and emergency.  She had to dig deep but soon poked her face out with a smile of victory and a canister in her hand.  I set Brigadoon motoring in circles as I swapped canisters and, with a few mistaken "Whoop!" here and there as I handled the thing, we were all set.

A long blast and a short and we were on our way under the University Bridge and headed for the Montlake Bridge.  Up that one went and we were out into Lake Washington on the north side of 520.

I had checked the charts multiple times, consulted web sites, talked to other Captains, just to assure myself that my 54+ (call it 55) foot mast would clear the east span of the bridge.  The charts say 57 feet high it is.  Kerry was a little anxious about that.  However, I remember the bridge being clearly marked and higher on one side.  I also suspected they mark the charts for the lowest point of the pass under at mean high water.  I thought we were ok.

We were.  As we approached the bridge under motor, we spotted two helpful things.  The first was the 64 foot height on the eastern part of the channel.  The second was the clear markings on the footings of the bridge showing the vertical clearance for various levels of water.  The numbers go down as the lake level goes up.  The 64 foot clearance meant we would be passing under about 62-63 foot high bridge with our 55 foot past.  That meant about seven feet of clearance.

I will tell you that, from the cockpit of Brigadoon, seven feet never looked so small or invisible.  But, clearance it was and soon we passed under and were on our way past the famous "I have so much money I don't know what to do with it" mansion of Bill Gates.  Waving to the tour boat (yes there was one), we motored south under slightly cloudy skies and little wind.

Brigadoon made a good 4kts under power at 2400 rpm.  Steadily, we motored south, towards and under the 70 foot clearance of the I-90 bridge on the east side of Mercer Island.  Crossing under and moving south, we made out way to the south end.

Kerry went below and left me at the helm.  While she snoozed in the forward cabin, I let the stereo blare as I motored along some of the most expensive real estate in the Puget Sound.

I call this one the "I have too much money" house. I mean, really...

Oh, it might have been the Mercer Island community center but, really, I doubt it.

Then again, I'm speaking from the viewpoint of wanting less, of living on a boat that has less square footage than one of their walk in closets.  I looked on with some sense of not wanting that, not even if I had the money.  I was happy where I was, motoring along in my modest home, with my beautiful girl snoozing in the front cabin.

Soon Kerry was awake and we were motoring along the east side of Seward Park.  A turn around the north end and we entered Andrews Bay.  There wasn't another boat there.  Not one.  

Kerry and I motored around, surveying the depth and deciding where to drop the hook.  Contrary to most cruising couples I went forward to handle the 35lb anchor, the hundreds of pounds of chain and parts that can tear your hands off.  I always thought it really stupid of "captains" that never leave their helms; instead sending their spouses forward to deal with the heavy tackle while they drive their boats and yell.

Oh, there was a little yelling because Kerry and I were 35 feet apart.  She did a great job of managing the engine while I got the CQR anchor into the bay and on the bottom.  I will tell you, when a hundred feet of 3/8" chain starts flying out of the hawse pipe and into the water, you do not reach for it to slow it down.  Soon, we were at anchor, or, at least, I thought we were.  

The chain is marked in depths an I thought I had 175 feet of chain out.  For the 30 foot depth of the bay at that point, that should be plenty (over 6/1 scope).  However, Brigadoon kept swinging oddly in the wind, back and forth, like a drunken windvane.  It wasn't supposed to do that.  I finally went ahead and let out more chain and was horrified to see the 100 ' marker come up.

A moment of fearful stupidity hit me as I realized that what I thought was the 175' marker was only the 75' marker.  We had a scope of 2/1 out.  That is not optimum and was a perfect recipe for a dragging anchor in the middle of the night, as a possible running aground.  After playing around I decided to go for a real 175' of chain.  As I hit that mark, it switched over to the heavy duty 5/8" rode.   Now I was set.  I got the boat, started the engine and really backed down on the anchor.  Finally we were set.  I'd be able to sleep.

This is what Andrews Bay looks like when Seafair isn't happening and the fair weather boaters are all staying home.

We did end up with company.  One boat sat quietly off our port quarter all night.  We never heard a sound from them as we fired up the Dickeson diesel heater, made dinner on the stove, played some music and turned in for a good night's 'rest'. 

And except for it getting pretty cold (we should have pulled another comforter out of ships stores, we had a great first night on anchor.  We woke to a quiet and calm bay.  

 Of course, it was too cold for my Princess, so I played Lancelot and got the diesel heater going again while I made coffee, tea, and breakfast, on the hook, in the middle of Andrew's Bay, in my home.

Finally, she was up and about so we started talking about getting going.  It took us both about 30 minutes of hauling on the manual windlass to pull all 200' of rode and chain to the boat but, after working in shifts, we finally had the engine started and were motoring out of the bay while Kerry had the rest of her breakfast.

While she munched we headed southward towards Rainer Beach, where Kerry used to live.  We cruised by there while I readied Brigadoon for sail.  The wind was up, I had a reef in the sail for practice so we got the sails up in short order and...6 knots under one reef and the yankee (the big headsail).  We worked that east and north, alternating between broad reaching and running (some wing and wing) and sailed right under the I-90 bridge.  

Once past that, we ended up motoring back under 520, then east through the ship canal, under the two bridges and back to our slip to a familiar gusty south wind.

It was a great trip.  I couldn't have a better boat or First Mate.

Her Bones are Good

It's been quiet of late, with all the lousy weather, and other plans afoot.  One of the plans we have been working on is getting Brion Toss to come out and complete a rigging survey on Brigadoon.  Brion is a well known and respected rigger, who we saw speak at the Seattle Boat Show.  I have also read his book "The Riggers Apprentice" years ago.  Brion is a wealth of information wrapped up in a pragmatic and jovial presentation.

The tough part about this is that I invited an expert in yacht rigging to tell me about the condition of the rig.  The news would be the news and, on a 30 year old boat, I had to be prepared for anything.  Basically, he could have told me my rig was bad, that I could/should not sail her.  I had to be prepared for that.

He arrived late yesterday.  Brion was more than welcome to have me along as he inspected the running and standing rigging on Brigadoon. This is crucial, because, the regular survey, as good as it was, did not really cover the rigging.

Aside from Brion inspecting the rigging and providing me feedback on her condition, he also offered up quite a few suggestions how to improve various aspects of the rig, in order to make it more effective and make my life easier.

I'm looking forward to his detailed report in a week or so.  It will be a useful tool approach improvements on Brigadoon.

The one thing he said, when all was said and done, was good.  As Brion stood there, looking up at her, he turned to me and said, "Her bones are good.  You've got a good boat."

That couldn't have made me happier.

Brigadoon as Art

I did some walking about pointing a camera at stuff last weekend...

My home is beautiful.

My boat is haunted

Last Sunday we went out for a day sail on Lake Union.  A friend came along and brought with her, Kai; a seven year old boy.

Standing below, Kai was very impressed.

"This looks like a pirate ship?  Do you have any treasure?"

I told him I did indeed have treasure and, if he didn't tell anyone where I hid it, I'd show it to him.  He agreed and got out a bag of necklaces, watches, rings, jewelry.  He looked at it in awe and proclaimed, "Wow!  You do have treasure!  Mommy, he has treasure."

Then we went out on a very windy and choppy Lake Union to try out a few things.  I had an experienced crew with me; Kerry and Thor.  So, with that, we decided to sail away from the dock instead of motoring. Since the wind was coming from the north, as soon as we got the lines off, Brigadoon drifted right out into the lake.  Pulling up the staysail got us going downwind in short order, at around 4.5kts.

We decided to try just the staysail (the smallest of the three, the small jib closest to the mast).  It worked great downwind in 20kts.  Going to weather?  Not so much.  With the center pressure on the boat ahead of the mast caused a nasty lee helm (where the boat wants to fall off away from the wind).  So, we decided to play with that, with just the staysail, and see just how controllable the boat was.  It was -- just barely.  We were able to make headway to windward, just barely.  The surprising thing is that we were actually able to get her to tack almost every time.

Why didn't we raise the main?  We decided not to because it would need a reef for sure.  I'm not familiar enough with reefing the main to try to learn it in 20-25 kt winds with guests aboard.  That will be for another day, after I've had some practice with it on a calm day at the dock.

During the sail, Kai was quite pleased. He was very excited to be on a real sailboat and begged to go forward.  So we sent him there, with his mom and Thor's son Julian.  Kai didn't last long.  He said he was cold but, really, I think being "out there" on the foredeck was a little scary for him.

So, we put Kai down in the pilot house.  That is the great thing about Brigadoon.  Guests can go below and still enjoy the sail from the safety and great view afforded by the pilot house.



So Kai was sitting here, in front of the wheel enjoying himself when, suddenly, we heard him shout, "I can't sit here!  There's a ghost in this seat!  There is a ghost on this boat!  It's haunted!!!"

Looking below I saw him pointing at the wheel, as it moved....in concert with my own efforts at the wheel in the cockpit.  A little bit of reassurance on my part, showing Kai how I moved my wheel, and this one moved too, and everything was OK.

Returning to the dock was challenging. Since the wind was blowing hard from the north, that meant getting blown *away* from the end dock mooring.  We decided to take a first, "no way are we going to dock even if it's sitting perfectly along the pier" pass to see what it was like.

First pass...not so bad and here we go drifting away from the dock.

Second pass...maybe dock this time...no dice as I came in too steep.

Third time?  That was the charm.  I brought the bow up, Thor stepped off with the bow line.  He secured it and I used the reverse and prop walk to port to back Brigadoon right up to the dock.  Not bad at all.

All in all a good day in really gusty winds, good solid chop, docking in less than optimum conditions and an encouragement to learn how to reef my mainsail on my schedule before the weather sets the schedule for me.

Stuff: for a boat now

Warning: long somewhat poseur philosophical rambling follows.

As I look at the systems on Brigadoon and my plans on going places in this boat, I have thought a lot about systems that I have, which ones need an upgrade, which ones I need to obtain, and which I need to junk.

I mean, I could load the boat up with the latest in chartplotter/radar/AIS/VHF/depth/fishfinder/watermaker/inverter/tv/vcr/dvd/blueray/blender/microwave/hot tub/etc/etc/etc

I could spend a fortune loading the boat with gadgets. I could also have to quadruple my battery bank to support them. I could get ridiculous with it. Or not...

So I'm looking at what is really necessary, what can be re-purposed, what can be used for dual purposes. In this I'm examining *if* I really need to get an outboard (which requires a place to stow, a lock so it won't get stolen, gasoline, gas/oil mix if it's a two stroke) for the dink. The thing is, as you add one capability, you have to take into account the infrastructure to support it and then, maybe those things need additional infrastructure, etc, etc, etc....

It can be a long and winding road of this thing, supporting that system, requiring an upgrade of another and pretty soon you are so surrounded by what you *have to have* to support something maybe you really didn't need in the first place.

I understand this is blasphemy the manufacturers out there, who want us to consume their "marine grade" pens, pencils, log books, and toasters that they are very very proud of -- just look at the co$t. Well, I don't have to buy all their stuff just because it is shiny and new, because it was reviewed in the latest issue of SAIL, or I think I have to keep up with the Joneses when at anchor.  Frankly I don't care what the Joneses think.  All I care about is whether I have what I need on Brigadoon.

So every purchase is backed up by some questions.

Do I really need this?

Can this capability I'm acquiring be done another way -- especially one that is less costly?

Do I need additional infrastructure to support the shiny new thing and, how much is that going to cost?

What are the unintended con$equences (costs) of the addional infrastructure?

For example, I have looked at a really nice little Honda outboard for my dink. Before I buy that, though, I'm going to get the thing off the davits and row it around for a while before I shell out the money for an outboard. I may find out I don't need it. If I find I do, then at lease I've asked and answered the right questions about it.