Okay, I hear you out there. I should change the name of this blog to Sunsets of the Pacific Northwest, ...but I won't. Fact is, I haven't done anything interesting enough for visual record and sunsets are part of my everyday routine, so that's what you get.
Progress report: Tho' I'd thought I'd depart the Tyee YC outstation in Eagle Harbor on Saturday, June 1st, I didn't make it. Oh darn! I'd pulled out my holding tank the previous day to repair some plumbing fittings and thought I'd finish that up in the morning and take off Saturday afternoon. I got the job done, but then noticed I'd missed my early afternoon nap. Can't have that, so after nap time it was too late to depart. Ah the joys of a flexible retirement plan!
Instead I went into Winslow for Mexkan food. As I was putting over to the city dock in the dinghy, I came across a young guy sailing across the bay in a Cal 25. My first boat, Toro, was a Cal 25 so I have a real soft spot in my heart for them. I said "Hi" to the guy (Matt was his name) and shared a brief version of the Toro story. When I got back to Mabrouka after dinner, Matt was at the next pier fiddling with his boat. After saying hello again, I asked him if I could hire him to do a couple of chores up my mast the next morning. He looked like a fit young man, so probably up to the task. He agreed and we settled on 7:30am to get going.
Here's the back story to this. It's titled, "Too Old and Too Fat". I've been trying various ways to climb my mast to replace my wind instrument and put up the halyard for my new gennaker. There was a time not TOO many years (but obviously too many POUNDS) ago when I could haul myself up the mast with a block and tackle rig I've got. No go anymore. I've tried a couple of different rigs with various climbing gear, but no go either. Most recently I bought a folding ladder made of nylon webbing. Though that was more successful, I only got up just above the spreaders before I convinced myself that to go further would be foolish. I was just too physically tired to feel confident.
So, the ultimate climbing system for me is to hire someone else to do it. In the meantime I'll work on upper body strength and losing weight. I think rowing instead of using the outboard motor is a good start.
So, I cranked Matt up the mast on Sunday morning and he got the tasks done! "Yay," I exclaimed, and proceeded to set sail as soon as he left!
It was a nice sail until about noon when the wind proved it wouldn't get me where I needed to go by the time I needed to get there. The ultimate destination was Manzanita Bay on the other side of Bainbridge Island. That's the site of the sunset picture heading this blog entry. To get there I had to get through Agate Pass at the North end of the island, but at 1:30 the tide turns and, if I were to be very much later than that, it could be up to 2.5 knots against me. Dropping the genny and starting the motor (also referred to as the Iron Genny), I motored through at about 2:15 and set anchor in Manzanita Bay by about 3 o'clock. Just in time for the requisite afternoon nap.
It was a calm night and I got up about eight the next morning intending to take the dinghy across Port Orchard (that's the body of water separating Bainbridge Island on the west side from mainland Kitsap Peninsula) to Brownsville Marina for coffee and breakfast and to top up on gasoline for the dinghy and the generator. I had subleased a slip at Brownsville when I first moved to Seattle and have always thought kindly of the place. No, not really the place, although the facilities were, if not polished, at least comprehensive, but the people. Very nice people. And it proved to be so again. I got there just as the gas dock was opening up and discovered, when reaching into my back pocket, that I'd left my wallet back on Mabrouka, a ten minute high-speed dinghy ride away. So (here's the nice folks proof) the attendant allowed me to write a check, ...even without ID. He was less optimistic about the folks at the marina deli where I'd hoped for breakfast.
He was right. They had a no checks policy and turned me away, ...almost. I don't think I actually slumped my shoulders or skulked out of the deli, but apparently my demeanor elicited some sort of sympathy because one of the women called out after me that I could sign a chit for breakfast and come back later to pay. What? I could sign my name on a little slip of paper, but they couldn't take a check? Ah, but who am I to argue? A coffee, a breakfast burrito, and a couple of early morning bar room jokes later, I talked one of the customers into cashing a ten dollar check for me with the deal that they could keep the change. See! Nice folks!
Back aboard Mabrouka, I had decided to move on so upped anchor and headed South towards Gig Harbor. With the wind and the current against me, I motored through Rich Passage and didn't set sail until I got into the northern reaches of Yukon Harbor. That was about the time I came across a flotilla of tugs and USCG cutters escorting a submarine up into Puget Sound Naval Shipyard in Bremerton. It was definitely a group to keep my distance from since the submarine was spewing great clouds of smoke. What's up with that? Even though I made a point of moving way off to the side of the channel and idling until they'd passed, the lead Coast Guard cutter came over and stood picket between me and the sub until they'd gone by.
I got a couple of hours of sailing in before the wind died completely. That took me along the west side of Blake Island and about 1/3 of the way south down Colvos passage, from which point I motored, arriving in Gig Harbor at about 5:30 and docking at the Gig Harbor YC reciprocal facility a little after 6.
Here I sit taking advantage of better than usual internet access to write this update. There's nothing particularly of note today except the observation that I wish I had anchored out in the bay. Though I have power and water, I'm at a dock wedged in between a marina and an Anthony's restaurant. I did bike in to town for some supplies this morning and have fiddled around on the boat a bit, but I'm afraid I'll have no sunset picture to share.
The highlight of the evening will be a visit from Steve Gatz and his family, wife April and daughter and son Anatacia and Rowen for dinner. Maybe I'll post a picture of them.
Ta ta for now!