Chartreuse

This little guy was pointed out to us this evening by Bubba, who was oh so stealthy stalking him from the boat as he stood oblivious on the dock. I believe he's a juvenile night heron - he was certainly ballsy, naive or both. I love the color of his legs and feet - I didn't capture it well in the photo, but they were quite a bright yellow-y green.

Ford Point

When we went out yesterday to pump out and fuel up, I noticed the old Ford plant building up by Marina Bay. That, I thought, is a really cool looking building. Because I love old industrial buildings when we got back to the boat, I drove over there and took some pictures:














A lot of old assembly line buildings are mostly glass - it was expensive to light a line, so why not use natural light when it was available?




















I'd think that might make them difficult to light at night, though.



















Maybe they had curtains.



































I'm fairly sure that most of the interior partitions are later add ons - it must have been really impressive as a huge open space.



















It's apparently part event space and part offices for companies - most outdoors-y or green - e.g. Title IX and a solar energy company (which had several Priuses parked in front).

Some other shots in the same general vicinity:

Baja Haha Crew Party Tonight

We're hoping to pick up a couple of extra crew for the Haha. Max will be making the trip from San Diego to Cabo with us, but we need some extra hands. We've gotten a lot of responses to our Latitude 38 crew listing, and are hoping to meet a few of those folks tonight.

Details at the top of the right sidebar if you're interested.

Got crew. Thanks for your interest.

Wine Tasting in Sonoma with Bob

Yesterday, we went up to Sonoma with our friend Bob to do some wine tasting. It was a beautiful day. To fortify ourselves for the tasks ahead, we stopped at Andee's cafe in Napa, where we had some really good (and huge) burgers. From there, we proceeded to to the BR Cohn winery. This is a longstanding favorite of mine and Art's - they make a fabulous cab and pinot noir. We used to go up every fall and get our Thanksgiving wine there when we lived in the Bay Area. From there, we stopped at Benzinger, Kunde and Kenwood. Copious quantities of wine were procured.



To be fair, about 1/3 of that is Bob's. We don't drink that much.

Fixing one's boat in (not so) exotic places

We are out of the boatyard and back in Alameda, at least for a while. We got our radar adjusted and our autopilot configured and our echo charger replaced, so that was all good. Then, as if they'd just been waiting for us to address everything we thought was a must do, our wind instruments completely shut down. Dead, deceased, not of this earth, no longer living. The yard guys came out in their little fast boat (God, I love KKMI), but once it was apparent it was not just some easily solved wiring problem, we turned around and headed back to Richmond. Ron was able to get the instruments going by resetting the controller (one of those special "only if you're a marine electrician because it's not in the manual" menu items, I guess), but now we're worried.

See, the wind instruments aren't essential (though they're certainly nice), but the same controller thing that Ron reset also runs our knotmeter and our depth sounder. Now, the knot meter I could almost really not care less about, as it's largely been supplanted by the more useful speed over the ground (as opposed to speed through the water, which is often, especially in the San Juans, quite a different number) from the GPS, but about the depth sounder, we both care a great deal. Because a boat is supposed to, y'know float, which it can only do in sufficient water. How do you know how much water you're in? Ding, ding, ding: the depth sounder. So that's a fairly critical thing to have working, and, well, that controller is old enough to drink and it's apparently getting flaky.

We installed a new wind sensor (of course, compatible only with B&G gear) when we were in the yard in Bellingham. But replacing all of our current gear with new B&G stuff would run probably twice what replacing it with Furuno instruments (everything else on the boat is Furuno now, save the VHF radio), although the labor would be more for the Furuno approach, because we'd need to haul the boat to put new transducers in the hull and go up the mast (OK, we would not personally be going up the mast, but someone would) to replace the windstrument. We could also sell the very expensive and almost brand new wind sensor if we got new gear it wasn't compatible with - apparently likely for quite close to what we paid for it. Assuming Ron can get us onto his schedule, I think we're going back in the yard. Again. What we'd be installing, we're not quite sure, but the wind/speed/depth instruments are fairly surely on their way out.

It's like they know, the instruments do, somehow. I hate them.

Other than that, it's been a nice few days. We've seen lots of family and old friends, and are, in fact, going wine tasting in Sonoma with one of those friends tomorrow. We've had several really nice sails - we haven't seen wind like this since we moved to Washington, and while the Bay is definitely deficient in cruising destinations, it is one hell of a nice place to just sail. It's been lovely, really. Just more expensive than we'd hoped. But, as I keep reminding myself, we'll have a far better boat for all this work stuff we're putting into it.

I am so ready to do something that doesn't involve moving the boat around tomorrow.

And we're having fun, dammit.

At KKMI

We are in the yard for the day, getting a few things put right that weren't quite. The echo charger (probable blown fuse), the radar/chart alignment on the plotter, a once-over on the engine. Today is mostly about figuring out what we need, they'll order everything up and we'll come back when it all comes in to do the actual work.

Had an absolutely wonderful sail up here from South Beach yesterday - up the city front and across the gate to Raccoon Straits, then a downwind run to the yard in Richmond. Aaaah.

We made it!

Day 8 - 8/18

When I got up at 6:00 this morning, we could see San Francisco. We may be there even earlier than noon, although distances over the water can be quite deceiving. This has been an incredible experience, and I'm so glad I did it (at one point we were thinking I might fly or drive down with the cats and meet up with the boat in SF). I've learned a great deal about cooking underway (everything is a potential cause of injury, even the door to the microwave), and about provisioning (I waaay over-provisioned - we're going to be eating this stuff for weeks, but I guess it's better to err in that direction than not to have enough). Once we get tied up at South Beach, we'll wash the incredibly filthy boat*, and go out for one last dinner. Mitch flies out tomorrow, and while Richard is going to spend a few days in the Bay Area, this will be his last night on the boat. This was such a daunting passage before we did it – now I feel much more confident about our ability to get the boat to Cabo and beyond. Things can (and will) go wrong, but we can deal.

*We tied up at South Beach at about 10:00 AM, made breakfast, did not wash the boat (that'll happen tomorrow) and are either taking naps, exploring SF or writing this blog post.

Seattle to SF - part 6

Point Arena

Day 7 – 8/17

I was feeling all motivated this morning, so I made apricot scones. Everyone was happy to see those. All the guys are getting sort of sleep deprived – the only time we're all up is around meals, and at this point that's not even completely reliable. We're definitely in the home stretch now – rounded Cape Mendocino this morning. I've been up and down this section of the coast by car at least 30 times, but have never seen it from the water. The weather has been beautiful – not exactly shorts and t-shirts, but at least we're no longer doing our Michelin Man imitations, bundled up in foulies and as many layers of fleece as we can fit under them. We actually had enough wind to sail for a little while this afternoon, which was nice. We'd all have felt a little silly bringing a sailboat all this way and not sailing at all. Dinner was black bean chili that I'd made and frozen before we left, cornbread, and for dessert, an apple crisp and vanilla ice cream. We should be in San Francisco sometime around noon tomorrow.

Apple Crisp

Apples:
3-4 apples (Granny Smith, Fuji, Gala are all good)
Sugar (how much is going to depend on how tart your apples are)
Cinnamon
Cardamom
Ginger
Nutmeg
Salt

Topping:
1 c Flour
½ c. Brown Sugar
¼ lb Butter

Combine the flour and sugar in a bowl. Cut the butter into this mixture with a pastry cutter or two knives, or rub the butter in with you fingers until it looks like pebbles.

Put the apples into an 8x8 pan (I actually put them in so that they're mostly lying flat – you can fit more apples in the pan that way than you can if you just dump them in), and sprinkle the topping on top. Don't compress the topping – it's supposed to be crumbly, not like a piecrust. Be sure to leave at least ½” of headroom in the pan for the juices that will bubble up. If you can't do that, put the pan in a larger baking dish to catch spills before putting it in the oven – trust me, you do not want to have to scour burnt on melted sugar off the bottom of your oven. Bake for 40-45 minutes, or until the smell is driving you mad.

Serve with vanilla ice cream or crème anglaise.

You can also make this with dried apples if you soak them to reconstitute first and add a little water (~ ¼ c) to the baking dish.

Seattle to SF - Part 5

Day 6 – 8/16

We're really bombing along now – the seas are almost completely flat. The difference between these conditions and our first few days out would be hard to exaggerate. I've figured out a reliable way to make coffee without having to stand there and tend it for the entire time it drips: Put coffee pot in two quart (tall, narrow) saucepan, put a silicone pot holder in the sink, and set the saucepan on that. The saucepan stops the coffee pot tipping over, and the potholder stops the pan from sliding around. In case something goes wrong anyhow (nothing has so far, knock wood), all of the mess is contained in the sink. We're probably going through about three pots a day, so it's nice to have a way to do that without having to babysit it the whole time. Everyone foraged for breakfast (granola, HB eggs, etc.), meat loaf and broccoli for dinner.

Seattle to SF - Part 4

8/16 – Day 5

[Long and fairly boring post about our boat's electrical system]

Page down a couple of times to skip excruciating detail and get back to cruising and food...

...and the electrical problems continue. At about 5:00 this morning, I was woken up by the sound of the engine RPMs falling sharply and then starting to race. Everyone came bolting out of their berths to try and figure out what was going on. It was Art's watch when the problem started – the tachometer RPMs had suddenly gone way down, and to get them up into a normal range (2200) on the meter he'd opened the throttle. The RPMs on the tac looked right at this point, but the engine was clearly turning faster than that, as our speed through the water was ~8 knots, when normally it would be somewhere around six. Since we had adjusted the clamp on the throttle cable yesterday, our initial thought was that maybe it had worked itself loose and was allowing the cable to slip, but that didn't really jibe with how the engine was sounding. For some reason, I thought to check the voltage on the engine battery -- yikes, 5 volts. That's not good (it should be slightly north of 12 volts). Obviously it wasn't getting a charge. However, we'd been motoring steadily since noon the previous day, so what on earth had sucked the charge out of it? Maybe the cockpit panel? That would explain why the tachometer had dropped – it wasn't that the engine was running more slowly, it was just that the tachometer didn't have enough poop (i.e. voltage, for you technical types) to push the needle over to the actual RPMs on the engine. But shouldn't the alternator be charging both the engine and house batteries? One would think so, but it was fairly evident that for some reason, it was not. We know for sure that the battery charger we use for shore power charges up the engine battery – if it didn't we'd have never gotten off the dock at Newport the previous day. So went go to fire up the genset, which can also power that charger, but, duh, it starts off of the same dead battery as the engine. Luckily, our electrical system is set up with two places to parallel the house batteries with the start battery, so we flipped one of those switches and got the genset and smart charger going with the house batteries. However, running the genset for the remainder of the trip was, in addition to making it insanely noisy down below when the main is running and only somewhat less bothersome when we're sailing, was going to have us going through diesel like Grant through Richmond, and so would have been pretty suboptimal.

Remember how a couple of days ago we “lost” our inverter? That was probably the first sign of this problem. The regulator can only send power to the start battery (via an echo charger, we're assuming – one of the upshots of this experience is that even after owning this boat for 11 years, we don't really know enough about our electrical system) if the house bank is over a certain voltage. However, it appears that when we switched from gel cells to AGMs about a year ago, we set the regulator too low, which meant a) we were taking a lot longer than we needed to to charge the house bank from the alternator, and b) we were never reaching the threshold where the echo charger kicks in to charge the start battery. When we had the inverter problem, we hadn't run the genset for a couple of days, so the start battery wasn't getting charged. We think the inverter (integral to the charger) saw the low voltage on the start battery when we turned it on, and started trying to up the voltage on the house batteries so that they would reach the threshold needed to charge the start batteries, or something like that. Obviously, you're not supposed to let your 12 volt starting battery get down to 5 volts. Hopefully, it wasn't that low for very long and will be able to hold a charge going forward.

Today, the lights on the regulator were back working again, presumably because by using the charger powered by the genset we'd gotten the house voltage high enough to charge the start battery. At least that's the theory. Not wanting to start fooling around with the voltage settings on the regulator at sea, we're just leaving the engine and start batteries in parallel any time we have the engine on – that way both banks charge at the same time. That's the theory, anyway, with much thanks to our crew Mitch, who knows enough about this stuff to both make an educated guess as to what the problem was and to figure out a way around it. That was just a wee bit too much in the excitement department before 9:00 AM. However, the cheese grits with bacon we had afterwards for a late breakfast were pretty awesome.

How did we not notice this charging issue in the year plus since we adjusted the regulator? Easy. We usually run the genset at least once or twice a day to charge the batteries, make hot water, etc. when we're at anchor. We'd also usually run the charger, not because we particularly needed to, but because diesel engines like to run under load. That was apparently plenty to keep the engine battery topped off. We'd also only have the cockpit panel live overnight, to run the anchor light. When we were at the dock, we had shore power running the charger, which also charges both battery banks. A extended period with a lot of things running off the cockpit panel and pretty minimal genset use was, we think, the only set of circumstances in which this could happen, and pretty well describes the last couple of days. I'm just glad it happened now – if we hadn't had Mitch aboard, it would have taken us a really long time to figure out what was going on, so that's the silver lining to this whole thing.

[/Long and fairly boring post about our boat's electrical system]

This afternoon, we had a dolphin show – for about 10 minutes, 4 of them were playing in our bow wave, crisscrossing under the boat amidships and just generally having fun with each other and our boat. I'd never thought of Arione as a piece of playground equipment, but they sure did. It was really cool. I tried to get a picture, but without going into video mode on the camera (which I didn't think at the time of doing) it was impossible to time a shot for when they were visible. If we get another show, I'll try shooting video and capturing stills from that.

We're expecting to be back in the Bay Area later this week (Wednesday, with any luck), and Art has already set it up with KKMI for Ron Romaine (who originally designed and installed most of our electrical system) to go through all things electrical and put it all to rights. Whew.

Meatloaf, fried potatoes and broccoli were dinner. Everything except the meatloaf (which we all agreed to save the leftovers of for sandwiches tomorrow ) got finished off.

Fried potatoes

1 can of whole small potatoes (you could obviously use new potatoes that you'd peeled and boiled, but the canned ones are good, and last almost indefinitely)
Butter for frying them
Salt
Pepper
Smoked paprika
Garlic granules (obviously fresh would be fine here too)

Drain the potatoes, sprinkle salt, pepper and garlic granules on them and toss them around. I do this right in the can to save a dish that will need washing later.
Heat the butter in a frying pan on high heat until it's almost smoking.
Dump in the seasoned potatoes and turn the heat down to medium.
You'll want to disturb them as little as possible. You want them nice and crusty, and if you move them around too much, they disintegrate and turn into hash browns, which are good, but presumably not what you're going for here.
When they look good and crusty (maybe 20 minutes total), sprinkle them with smoked paprika. I use maybe 1/2 a teaspoon per can.
Put a lid on the pot and turn off the heat. They will hold for a good 20 minutes.
Just before serving, flip them around with a spatula to more or less evenly distribute the paprika.
Eat.

Seattle to SF - Part 3

Newport

8/15 (this is where I began to forget to keep track of nautical miles)


Had hash browns, sausage and cantaloupe for breakfast. Went to the little marina store – no eggs, but milk, beer and wine. Topped up our fuel and water tanks,– and left Newport at noon. It's totally calm (and foggy) today – much more pleasant, and also an opportunity to learn how to set up the automatic fog signal on our new hailer. Made an orzo, feta and spinach salad for lunch – it would have been better with the pine nuts I forgot to buy (or was unable to find - I'm pretty sure I'm going to find some musty old bag of pignoli months from now, stashed somewhere inaccessible), but was pretty good anyway. Later in the afternoon, the waves started kicking up again, but either it wasn't as bad, or I'm getting used to it. Either way, it's an improvement. Dinner was baked ziti with shrimp and goat cheese. Looking back on that menu, today was rather pasta-riffic – I've kind of gotten off my original meal plan a bit, but no one appears to mind.

Seattle to SF - Part deux

8/13–14: 235 nautical miles

Boy howdy did conditions change alter we rounded Cape Flattery. Seas kept building throughout the day, and by afternoon we had about a 7' swell from the northwest with 2-4' wind waves out of the south on top of that. This was, needless to say, miserable. Doing anything down below in these conditions was really difficult – and I have the bruises to prove it – at least on deck you can see what's coming. However, no one got seasick, and we saw a couple of humpback whales, which was really cool – we've seen greys before, but not humpbacks. However, after we stopped the engine to check the oil, belts etc., the inverter went berserk when we tried to start it up again. A bit of troubleshooting suggested that the problem is with the alternator regulator – all of the status LEDs were blank – and at least one should always be blinking (actually, we were wrong about that - see next post, it blinks when it's got current. If it doesn't have that, it can go completely dark. Who knew?). We'll have to get that checked out when we get to SF. In the meantime, we're going to have to run the genset any time we need more AC than our Radio Shack pocket inverter can provide. I broke out the pressure cooker and made a pork roast with apples. It came out really well. I have a feeling the pressure cooker is going to be very useful going forward – if for no other reason than that it's a pot with a lid that locks on.

Pork Roast with Apples

1 2-3 lb pork loin
2 large shallots, chopped fine (~ ½ of a cup)
1 ½ c. dried apples (you can also use fresh – up the quantity a bit and reduce the wine by about half)
1 T dried tarragon
1 ½ c. white wine
Olive oil
Salt and Pepper to taste

Sauté the shallots in olive oil in the bottom of the pressure cooker until soft and slightly brown. Set aside. Brown the pork on all sides. Pick the pork up, put the apples, shallots and tarragon on the bottom of the pan, and put the pork on top of them. Add the wine. Close the pressure cooker and bring it up to the low pressure setting. Adjust the heat to maintain it there, and cook for 40 minutes. Let the pressure cooker cool off of its own accord. Check the meat – it should be at or above (hopefully not too much above) 160°. Put the meat on a carving bord and tent it with foil while you puree the apples and shallots with a hand blender (or in a regular blender). Slice the pork. Spoon a pool of the resulting sauce on each plate and put the pork on it.



After a night of Mr Toad's wild ride in the forepeak, during which Art and I both got to experience weightlessness a few times, I started to prepare breakfast on day 3, only to find that a can of milk has spilled on the bottom shelf of the fridge. Everything on that shelf had to be taken out and cleaned. At least it wasn't the top shelf, I said to myself at the time. About an hour later, after taking everything out of the bottom of the fridge and wiping fridge and contents off, I had the eggs for breakfast all beaten and ready to go when the boat rolled and the bowl tipped and eight eggs spilled all over the counter and into the refrigerator through the edges of the lid. So now all of the shelves, including the one I just cleaned, were covered in oozing beaten egg slime. I was about ready to cry – in addition to being a huge mess of the morning, I lost 8 eggs – hopefully we'll be able to get more at our next stop (actually, the 8 eggs turned out to be no big deal, as I realized we have a lot of things other than eggs to eat for breakfast, so I'm mostly using them to bake). The second try at making scrambled eggs was actually successful – cooking while underway in fairly heavy seas is definitely a learning process. Conditions continued to deteriorate, and we decided to go into Newport, Oregon for some rest and showers – we have a shower aboard, but it was so rough it would have been a difficult proposition indeed to use it.

Tied up in Newport, took showers, and headed over to the Rogue brewery for some dinner (quite good). Unlike many harbors on the west coast, Newport has a practically no bar, and they are constantly dredging what bar they do have, so it was a pretty easy place to go in. The marina was still as a millpond, and we all got a good night's sleep.

Seattle to SF - Part 1

Crew:
Richard Bard
Mitch Brown
Jaye Eldridge
Art Stiers

8/12 Day 1 – 120 nautical miles
We left Seattle at about 10:00AM in pea soup fog. Winds were light, but the fog ended up lifting and we had a very nice trip up to Cape Flattery, motoring almost the entire way. Had tortellini with pesto and peas for dinner, tabbouleh and black bean and corn salad for lunch. The guys worked out a watch schedule – 4 on , 4 off from 6:00 AM – midnight, 2 on 2 off from midnight to 6:00 AM. I'm doing all the cooking (and cleanup) so don't have a formal watch, although I'm on deck much of the time during daylight if I'm not working on something else (e.g. cooking, dishes, this blog, trying to remember where the hell I put the [insert name of missing ingredient here] for dinner tonight). Rounded Cape Flattery at about 5 AM.

Black Bean and Corn Salad

1 can black beans
1 can corn
½ red onion
1 small jar of roasted red peppers (or even pimientos)
Sherry vinegar
Rice vinegar
Olive oil
Lime juice
Salt and Pepper
Chopped cilantro if you have it, parsley flakes if you don't

Throw the first 4 ingredients in a tupperware container and season to taste with the remaining ingredients. This is best made at least a few hours, and preferably a day, in advance.

Backward Compatibility Fail

When we were coming up with the list of upgrades we wanted to do for this trip, AIS was near the top. This is a system that "sees" other boats (the ones with AIS, anyway) and displays them on the plotter at the helm. It also broadcasts our information to other boats in the area with AIS receivers. It gives you not only the name and size of the boats it sees (so you know what you're looking for), but also speed and course (so you can tell if you're likely to run into eachother). With the right type of radio interfaced to it, it also allows you to direct dial the helm of any boat you can see on the screen. It is, in short, extremely useful, especially as we head down the coast.

The installation was straightforward, but getting it to talk to the plotter was not going well. In fact, it was not going at all. A little research that we should have done in the first place turned up the fascinating fact that our five year old plotter can't display AIS targets. Ugh - we need to buy a new plotter. Since the plotter is also our interface for the radar, we needed to make sure our existng radome (radar antenna) was compatible with the new plotter. I'm sure you won't be surprised to hear that it was not. We wanted to go to a 10.4" plotter - one of the only things we've been sorry about from our previous big refit five years ago is that we cheaped out and went with a smaller screen on the plotter - but our existing radome would only work with the seven inch display.

We basically had two choices - one was a Frankenstein's monster approach of a mixed NavNet 1/NavNet 2 setup that had us installing the new plotter at the helm, the old one somewhere down below and having them share data. Oh, but they couldn't share charts over the network, just data - to have charts at the helm (sort of important, since that's where we drive the boat from), we'd need to buy new charts, which eliminated one of the potential cost savings of the monster approach. Did I mention that the new plotter uses SD chart cards, while the old one uses something else? I didn't think so. That's why we couldn't just go without charts in the plotter down below (making it a dedicated radar only unit) and move the chart cards we already own to the plotter in the cockpit. It would have saved us the cost of a new radome, but just looked like, well, something we could get working, but what if it died? Something told us this kludgey solution was going to be a ring-tailed bitch to troubleshoot down the line. Also - JFC, everyone who has dual helm stations has been buying two sets of chart cards? I had no idea.

So we gritted our teeth and went with option two: ripping everything out and installing a new system from end to end. That way we'd at least have the old complete system to sell, and we'd have a standard installation that anyone with access to the manuals could troubleshoot. Problem solved.

Well, no, problem not solved (this is a boat, it can't be that easy). To accommodate the new plotter and the helm VHF that we'd previously installed, we needed a wider instrument pod. Unfortunately, the wider pod was also taller. So tall, in fact, that it would have been sitting directly on the dome of our compass. It was also deeper, so it obstructed the view of the compass needle. Now we needed a smaller compass.

I think we've got something that will work, but honestly, I'm not going to believe anything until it's all hooked up and back together. Sometime later this week, we should have a new radar, plotter, instument installation at the helm and compass. Oh, and we'll have AIS. Hopefully.

Anyone want to buy a Furuno 1733C/NT radar/plotter with charts from the top of Vancouver Island to Acapulco? We've got a spare. It doesn't speak AIS, though.

Done moving

We are DONE. I handed back the keys Tuesday morning. Now we have to make the store/sell decision on the car.

I had forgotten how much work it is to move onto the boat

We made the process worse by having storage units in both Seattle and Anacortes. It's amazing how fast we accumulate stuff - when we moved up here five years ago, our possessions fit in the boat and a single storage unit. Of course then we moved ashore and went to Ikea where we bought an apartment's worth of stuff that we've spent the past five years slowly upgrading. Somewhere in there, we moved from a two bedroom apartment in Bellevue to a one bedroom apartment in Seattle. The result is a bunch of post Ikea stuff (much of it in storage) that we don't want to get rid of.

As of today, we're out of the storage unit in Anacortes. Art spent a couple of days up there earlier organizing, taking the ancient containers of methyl ethyl bad shit (some of which, I'm embarrassed to say, date from our time in Alameda - yes, we moved old cans of paint thinner and lighter fluid with us when we came to Seattle*) to the Skagit County hazmat disposal site, and disassembling the bakers racks (those chromed wire shelves you can get at Costco) of which we've somehow accumulated six. This morning we drove up there and picked up a one-way U-Haul. Thanks to all the work Art did in advance, we had the truck packed up in a little over an hour. I drove the car back, taking the scenic route through La Conner as my Skagit Valley farewell tour. After quick stop at the boat to take some stuff out of the car so that Art would actually have somewhere to sit when we dropped of the truck, we headed down to the place where we're storing all of our stuff while we're in Mexico.

Originally we were going to bring all of that stuff to the apartment and then pay the movers to take it to storage*. At some point last week, a little lightbulb went off and we realized that we could, wonder of wonders, through the amazing technology called the telephone, call the movers and see if we could just drop it off at their storage facility ourselves. Which we did. Cheaper and easier. I like that.

Next week = movers, which, of course, means the remainder of this week = packing.

Seaview is definitely redeeming itself - the watermaker works, and although there's still some sort of leak at the mast, the Spartite is quite possibly not the problem (which, in addition to perhaps not being the yard's fault, might be a bigger problem than we thought, but la la la la la I'm not going to think about that right now...). The owner was positively mortified about the packing gland. The guy they've sent to do most of the work is great, really seems to know his stuff, and funnily, is married to a woman we've met a couple of times who goes to the same Spanish teacher we do.

Our autopilot, unfortunately, appears to have bitten the dust. As a) it's 20 years old and b) we've rarely used it, this isn't terribly surprising. However, neither of us wants to go down the coast without a method of steering the boat that doesn't require actually standing at the wheel. It was also pointed out to us that even if we were to manage to revive it, if it died again, the likelihood of finding parts to repair a circa 1989 B&G Helmstar 740 are somewhere between slim and nil. The good news is that the hydraulic ram (the part that moves the rudder), which would be fairly spendy to replace, appears to be OK - meaning we'll just need to replace the brain. What was I thinking? Of course we needed to replace the ram too - on further inspection, it was unsalvageable.

The status on our SSB is still unknown. We're going to have it bench tested to see if the problems we're having are operator error (quite likely) or there's something wrong with the set (also likely, as this is another circa 1989 piece of equipment).

If you've read this far, you may be wondering if our retirement has turned into a bleak and unending ordeal of uninterrupted toil. Not likely! We went over to Blake Island and hung out for a few days at the end of last week, which was lovely, unseasonably warm, and a great introduction to cruising around Seattle. Also, we signed up (#13) for the Baha Ha-ha, which makes everything feel a little more real and all the schlepping we've been doing totally worth it.

* What can I say? Sometimes we are idiots.

It's been a really crappy couple of days for the cats...

... and not so great for us, either, although we are very, very glad to finally have our boat back. Friday morning, we arrived in Bellingham, supposedly needing only to get briefed on the operation of the watermaker and new fridge, to find the boat swarming with boatyard workers. Thus, the cats spent Friday shut in the forepeak to keep them from "helping" (or escaping). This was not good. We'd been assured that all the work would be complete by Tuesday, and that the yard would take the boat out for a sea trial sometime between then and Friday. Obviously, that hadn't happened.

The jib was still sitting in its bag on the foredeck, where we'd left it last Sunday. The hydraulic system was still not hooked up, so the rig wasn't tuned. Nothing (lights, radar, new wind instruments) on the mast worked. Basically, the boat was exactly as we'd left it the prior weekend. Pissed doesn't really adequately describe our reaction to this state of affairs. By late that afternoon, the hydraulics were hooked up, the rig was tuned, and the jib was back on. After the yard told us all was good with the mast, Art tried the radar. It still didn't work. A call to Furuno tech support suggested that the problem was the video cable. An attempt was made to solder it. It worked until the housing was put back on, then stopped. A second attempt was successful - hopefully the fix will last - I'm a little nervous about it, honestly. The watermaker apparently works, sort of, but its electronics aren't talking to each other as they should, so that's going to have to be addressed by the branch of the yard down here in Seattle and/or the manufacturer in Eugene, OR. After everyone had left for the day, it started to rain, which was when we discovered that the Spartite around the mast partners isn't. Grrrr. Testing is apparently not Seaview's strong point.

We let the very annoyed cats out of the forepeak, ate dinner and went to bed. We needed to get up early the next morning to catch the ebb out of Bellingham to carry us to Port Townsend, where we planned to stop for the night.

We cast off from the yard at about 7:30 Saturday morning. So far so good. About 20 minutes out, Art suggested that it would probably be a good idea to check the packing gland. That, along with our entire stern tube/cutlass bearing assembly had been completely rebuilt. You can see where this is going, can't you? I went down to look at the gland, and there are two nuts spinning merrily away on the end of one of the bolts that hold the entire assembly together. If you don't have a boat, you probably don't know that had this particular item come apart, we'd have had a large hole in our boat about 2' below the waterline. This is, most assuredly, not a good thing. In fact, it is a very bad, potentially boat sinking thing. Art was able to get the thing properly assembled while I sailed around in circles with the engine in neutral. Did I mention that it was raining?

Things really couldn't get any worse from there, and they did, in fact improve quite a bit.

The ebb was really picking up by the time we got going again, and we went bombing down Bellingham Channel and Rosario Strait at about 10 knots over the ground. The wind was straight on the nose, so we were motoring. The cats, who hate the engine, disappeared into whatever dark and small parts of the boat they cram themselves into whenever we turn on the noisy thing. We were at or above 10 knots for a couple of hours, and covered a lot more ground than we had expected, finding ourselves at the head of Admiralty Inlet at noon. This is more than 40 miles from Bellingham, and if we were going to stop as planned in Port Townsend, this is where we would turn west and head in. However, knocking off at noon when we were only 45 miles from our destination seemed, well, stupid, especially as it had gotten sunny and on the edge of almost warm as the day went on. We figured we might as well just keep going to Seattle. This really annoyed the cats - the last couple of hours of the trip, Maggie would yell at us any time either of us went below, and would stand on the top step of the companionway yelling through the drop boards when we weren't. She was ticked, and had things to tell us. For an 8 pound cat, she's pretty damn loud.

We pulled into our new slip in Elliot Bay Marina at 6:30, completely beat, but really glad to be home. We averaged over 8 knots for the whole trip, which is really amazing - our usual speed is just north of 6. No one had any energy to make dinner, so we foraged. Even I didn't manage to stay up past 10:30.

This morning, we were both moving very slowly. Tomorrow, we'll take the train back to Bellingham to retrieve our car. I suspect we'll also be giving the yard an earful.

More Progress

We're back in the water! (Well, you know what I mean. Arione is back in the water.) Art went up last weekend to install our new loudhailer/foghorn speaker, and found:

The watermaker is in! I really like the way they put the panel behind a plexiglass door. We can see the gauges, but they can't get kicked. That area used to be a set of drawers that we rarely used. The space that the pumps and filters are in is where our engine start battery used to be (when we had a 6D for a start battery) before we redid our electrical system 5 years ago. OK, strictly speaking, we didn't do this - if we'd tried, we'd probably still be at it. This space was brought to you by Ron Romaine. It's under the berth in the aft cabin, up against the bulkhead that separates the aft cabin from the galley.





















The new cold plate for the fridge/freezer is in as well. We kept the old plate, which can be run by the engine driven and AC compressors. The new one is only run by the AC compressor, which we upgraded to a water or air cooled unit (so that we can close the seacock when we're away from the boat). Why a new plate? We used to have trouble actually keeping the box cold with the AC without running the genset for hours on end. David from Sea Freeze, who built the plate and is doing all the refrigeration work, looked at our system and determined that the old plate was biased toward the engine compressor, as in it had a lot more tubing in it for the engine compressor than the AC one. The AC compressor didn't have enough to work with, basically. This should fix that.

The hull is all shiny - Seaview did a really nice job on the wax:

We're headed up to the boat tomorrow to spend our first night aboard in nearly six months. This has been the longest stretch we've ever gone not sleeping on our boat. Granted, we'll still be in the yard, but at least we'll be in the water. With any luck, we'll be bringing her back to Seattle next weekend via Port Townsend - the weather even looks like it may be nice - current forecast is for 70 and sunny!

Progress

We went up to the boat on Saturday to take care of a couple of things it seemed silly to pay the yard to do. The radar mount had some corrosion where the bolts holding the radome went through. Since having the radar fall off would be a very bad thing, Art wire brushed, primed and painted the corroded parts.




While he was doing that, I scrubbed the spreader leathers - there aren't any before pictures, but trust me, these are a lot better. The leather was green. It really is true that moss will grow on just about anything in our climate. I thought I might need to restitch them, but the stitching was in amazingly great shape at five years old. (Thanks Keith!)




The bottom is done, and it looks great. Prop's still not back in, there are watermaker parts all over the cabin, and there are about a million little things that need to get wrapped up, but it looks like we may have a boat again soon. We can't wait.

Getting the boat to San Francisco

We've been tossing around ideas about how we want to handle the trip down the coast from Seattle to San Francisco. It's way too long a trip for us to do by ourselves, so we need to add some crew. We also have pretty limited offshore experience -- Art has done this trip once before on Pete and Bonnie's boat, while my offshore experience consists of a few trips from San Francisco to Half Moon Bay. It seems like what we want is a mentor -- and we're thinking the best way to get that is to hire a delivery skipper. We'll need at least one other crew. I've found a couple of prospects via google, but apparently there are either very few delivery skippers on the West Coast (unlikely) or you find them in other ways. Guess we need to start asking around.