Yeah, I forgot to Spot check-in last night. But we made it to Vancouver, after a long and sloppy day out on the Straight of Georgia. Anchored now in False Creek, likely staying a few days. The weather report is pretty miserable, and it sounds good to just stay in one place with the heater on and no particular need to go outside. Or, if we do go outside, to have someplace indoors to go... say, Starbucks, or the Vancouver Public Library.
Or any of a number of museums we have never managed to make it to on previous visits.
We need to hustle back to the boat (at a Starbucks now) and pump out (which necessitates a move; False Creek is a no-discharge zone) and get back to our spot before the weekend crowds show up. We're just off Charleson Park, fairly well-sheltered, and centrally located... probably quieter than just off Yaletown, where we have seemed to end up routinely in years past.
I'll also go to a Rogers store sometime today or tomorrow and see about getting a SIM card for some mobile Internet. More on that later.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
ECHO Echo echo
That's right, we're in Echo Bay at Sucia Island right now. I think I posted something here this morning, but that seems like a long time ago and I forget what it was already. So I'll just fill you in from Port Townsend onward.
We left yesterday around noon and mucked around in light winds and contrary tides for an hour or so until we finally cleared Point Wilson and met the filling westerly coming off the Strait. It stayed somewhat light until we got up around Partridge Bank... a large and comfortable-looking trimaran breezed past us there, the only other recreational boat we saw during the crossing. But shortly afterward, the wind built to around twelve knots and steadied and we shot up to Cattle Pass at 7.5 knots under blue skies. The ride was smooth and stable... not that there was much chop. Still, it's nice to have a boat that will do seven and a half knots in twelve knots on the beam, and stay as steady as if we were only in five knots.
We ducked in around Cattle Point and spent the night near a small Coast Guard cutter in Griffin Bay. It's not a commonly used anchorage and no one else stopped in that night.
Mandy slept in this morning but took the first shift dealing with light and flukey winds up through San Juan Channel. I failed to buy a tide and current book, thinking that the tiny free one we had would get us up to Canada, and that we could buy the Canadian tables more cheaply there and wouldn't get much use out of the American ones. Besides, I imagined I could easily rely on my cell phone to look up such references as we needed until we got to a chandlery in BC.
But T-mobile has no service in the lower part of San Juan Channel (and very little here in Echo Bay!) so I mostly just had to guess. But guessing, or luck, or whatever, served us well enough, and we sailed all but the last forty-five minutes or so of the route today.
The weather report gave us a little concern with our chosen anchorage this evening... this morning they were calling for winds gusting to 40 knots from the southwest tonight. Echo Bay (where we've never been before) is well-protected against the seasonally more-common northwesterlies, but looked as if it might do in a southwesterly as well. But all day today, what were supposed to be southwesterlies manifested as southeasterlies or just plain easterlies, both of which have a fearsome reputation for shaking up the oft-crowded Echo Bay anchorage.
We found as likely a spot as we could to guard against that possibility, but the forecast has altered since both to reflect the actual wind direction (they are grudgingly allowing that it might blow from the south, after all) and a lower magnitude. Right now, it's dead calm out. But we got a good set on the anchor and a six to one scope out all the same.
Those southerlies should help whisk us north to Vancouver tomorrow if all goes well.
We left yesterday around noon and mucked around in light winds and contrary tides for an hour or so until we finally cleared Point Wilson and met the filling westerly coming off the Strait. It stayed somewhat light until we got up around Partridge Bank... a large and comfortable-looking trimaran breezed past us there, the only other recreational boat we saw during the crossing. But shortly afterward, the wind built to around twelve knots and steadied and we shot up to Cattle Pass at 7.5 knots under blue skies. The ride was smooth and stable... not that there was much chop. Still, it's nice to have a boat that will do seven and a half knots in twelve knots on the beam, and stay as steady as if we were only in five knots.
We ducked in around Cattle Point and spent the night near a small Coast Guard cutter in Griffin Bay. It's not a commonly used anchorage and no one else stopped in that night.
Mandy slept in this morning but took the first shift dealing with light and flukey winds up through San Juan Channel. I failed to buy a tide and current book, thinking that the tiny free one we had would get us up to Canada, and that we could buy the Canadian tables more cheaply there and wouldn't get much use out of the American ones. Besides, I imagined I could easily rely on my cell phone to look up such references as we needed until we got to a chandlery in BC.
But T-mobile has no service in the lower part of San Juan Channel (and very little here in Echo Bay!) so I mostly just had to guess. But guessing, or luck, or whatever, served us well enough, and we sailed all but the last forty-five minutes or so of the route today.
The weather report gave us a little concern with our chosen anchorage this evening... this morning they were calling for winds gusting to 40 knots from the southwest tonight. Echo Bay (where we've never been before) is well-protected against the seasonally more-common northwesterlies, but looked as if it might do in a southwesterly as well. But all day today, what were supposed to be southwesterlies manifested as southeasterlies or just plain easterlies, both of which have a fearsome reputation for shaking up the oft-crowded Echo Bay anchorage.
We found as likely a spot as we could to guard against that possibility, but the forecast has altered since both to reflect the actual wind direction (they are grudgingly allowing that it might blow from the south, after all) and a lower magnitude. Right now, it's dead calm out. But we got a good set on the anchor and a six to one scope out all the same.
Those southerlies should help whisk us north to Vancouver tomorrow if all goes well.
Quickly Now
Thought I'd post a quick update here as we drift along San Juan Channel, fading in and out of cell service... we finally left Port Townsend! And we're in the San Juans... uneventfully. Still heading north, though not too swiftly from the sound of things overhead here.
More to follow, if we park someplace that T-mobile actually services later this evening.
More to follow, if we park someplace that T-mobile actually services later this evening.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Feels like a holiday already
Despite the furnace being broke (more on that in a subsequent post, I'm sure), we decided to sail up to Port Hadlock to my parent's house for Thanksgiving.
The original intent was to have the boat as accommodation as much as transportation, to alleviate the demands of an unusually full house this year. Not having the furnace running put a damper on that idea. But the more we thought about it, the more we thought that a sail might be nice regardless, and also that we had some other options for staying aboard if it really got too crowded. There are four marinas in the area, two of which host yacht clubs with which we have reciprocal moorage agreements, and one of which is within easy walking distance of my parent's house.
I don't know if we'll avail ourselves of any of those options, but once we realized we had them, sailing up didn't seem utter foolishness anymore.
So we blocked out the entire week for getting up there. Weather is always a little iffy this time of year. Today saw gales and torrential downpours, proving the point; fortunately, we had already decided not to take off today in order to give ourselves extra time to prepare. The power went out for a while at our dock, reinforcing the point that going out for a sail might not be all that much worse than staying here.
Just the fact of being un-rushed makes me feel a bit like I'm on vacation already. I've actually done a bit of work today, in addition to boat work, but it felt like that optional stuff that you do while out on holiday anyway.
Tomorrow is supposed to be the gap in the series of storm systems bearing down on the Pacific Northwest this week, which works out perfectly for us. There's still a Small Craft Advisory on, but the forecasted winds are going to be lighter than we saw to today, and will be on our stern, so it should be a quick and not terribly uncomfortable ride north. And the rain is supposed to abate for the morning, at least, after which we should be up into rain shadow territory, anyway.
The things I'm most concerned about are all early on; Mandy is feeling a cold coming on, and we have three bridges and the locks to clear right at the start of the day. This would be easy if she was 100% but she might not be, and I'm not super-comfortable single-handing the boat through the locks yet.
On the plus side, the large locks are closed, so there is zero chance of any complicated line handling. And I just went over the engine this weekend, changing the oil and checking for any obvious problems, so hopefully there won't be any snags there, either. Really, we've never had any signs that there would be, but I still get nervous from having trouble in the Ship Canal with the last boat. It's the stuff you don't get any signs of that really messes with you.
The original intent was to have the boat as accommodation as much as transportation, to alleviate the demands of an unusually full house this year. Not having the furnace running put a damper on that idea. But the more we thought about it, the more we thought that a sail might be nice regardless, and also that we had some other options for staying aboard if it really got too crowded. There are four marinas in the area, two of which host yacht clubs with which we have reciprocal moorage agreements, and one of which is within easy walking distance of my parent's house.
I don't know if we'll avail ourselves of any of those options, but once we realized we had them, sailing up didn't seem utter foolishness anymore.
So we blocked out the entire week for getting up there. Weather is always a little iffy this time of year. Today saw gales and torrential downpours, proving the point; fortunately, we had already decided not to take off today in order to give ourselves extra time to prepare. The power went out for a while at our dock, reinforcing the point that going out for a sail might not be all that much worse than staying here.
Just the fact of being un-rushed makes me feel a bit like I'm on vacation already. I've actually done a bit of work today, in addition to boat work, but it felt like that optional stuff that you do while out on holiday anyway.
Tomorrow is supposed to be the gap in the series of storm systems bearing down on the Pacific Northwest this week, which works out perfectly for us. There's still a Small Craft Advisory on, but the forecasted winds are going to be lighter than we saw to today, and will be on our stern, so it should be a quick and not terribly uncomfortable ride north. And the rain is supposed to abate for the morning, at least, after which we should be up into rain shadow territory, anyway.
The things I'm most concerned about are all early on; Mandy is feeling a cold coming on, and we have three bridges and the locks to clear right at the start of the day. This would be easy if she was 100% but she might not be, and I'm not super-comfortable single-handing the boat through the locks yet.
On the plus side, the large locks are closed, so there is zero chance of any complicated line handling. And I just went over the engine this weekend, changing the oil and checking for any obvious problems, so hopefully there won't be any snags there, either. Really, we've never had any signs that there would be, but I still get nervous from having trouble in the Ship Canal with the last boat. It's the stuff you don't get any signs of that really messes with you.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Oh, look, we're back
New boat, new blog name... I've been meaning to re-activate our blog for a while now that we're back aboard our new Freedom 36, Rosie, and now here we are again.
Sorry about the delay. We had quite a time in between selling Insegrevious, finding places to stay as lubbers while we were searching for a new sailboat, finding, negotiating, and buying the new boat, then moving aboard. If you care about many of the impersonal particulars, you can catch up on my more mainstream blog, Late Entry, on Three Sheets Northwest, which chronicles much of that time. Unless Mandy or myself is feeling particularly ambitious, I doubt we'll update this blog with any details from that period.
Going forward, however, we'll see if we can do a bit better about keeping this current.
Next up... installing a new furnace! During the first below-freezing cold-snap in Seattle, of course, our Webasto furnace packed it in. So we're out looking for a replacement and the process is sure to provide blog fodder.
Thanks for reading (again)!
Sorry about the delay. We had quite a time in between selling Insegrevious, finding places to stay as lubbers while we were searching for a new sailboat, finding, negotiating, and buying the new boat, then moving aboard. If you care about many of the impersonal particulars, you can catch up on my more mainstream blog, Late Entry, on Three Sheets Northwest, which chronicles much of that time. Unless Mandy or myself is feeling particularly ambitious, I doubt we'll update this blog with any details from that period.
Going forward, however, we'll see if we can do a bit better about keeping this current.
Next up... installing a new furnace! During the first below-freezing cold-snap in Seattle, of course, our Webasto furnace packed it in. So we're out looking for a replacement and the process is sure to provide blog fodder.
Thanks for reading (again)!
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Getting on with things
We're still seeing good interest in the boat, but it's hard to gauge how serious people are so we're prepared for the long haul when it comes to selling. In the meantime, I've got my eye out for possible interim apartments, and we're continuing to look at possible replacement vessels regularly.
Last weekend, we went up to Everett to check out an Ericson 38-200. I have been wanting to get a look at one for quite a while now; on paper, they have much of what I think I am looking for in a boat. It's not a huge size, which keeps costs and control manageable; the build and sailing qualities are reputed to be good, and the longevity of the basic design seems to attest to it... two different companies have been building them for over thirty years. That also means they are generally available on the market, and a relatively new model can be had very nearly within our price range. Finally, the dash 200 version has a separate aft cabin (very popular with the peanut gallery) and the head roughly amidships, an unusual characteristic on American-made vessels of that era, but one that we find extremely attractive.
The particular boat we looked at was in sad shape and in no way worth the asking price, nor probably even half the asking price. But that was okay, there are others around the country available. In general, it was what we hoped it would be: sensible layout, decent tankage, and scads of storage. Way more storage than I had imagined, actually. We have been surprised how rare that is on putative cruising boats we have looked at, and it's a strong plus on the Ericson. Lots of hanging lockers make Mandy happy.
The layout is a little constrained compared to what we are used to on Insegrevious. The table drops down to form a berth, which is common, but it doesn't fold away, and the U-shaped layout of settees in the main cabin prevents you from using that space for anything else. Worse, the nav desk is pathetically small, and there is no where else aboard where a strapping fellow such as myself could easily lay out an office space. Since office space is one of the major factors driving our boat search, that may be a fatal flaw.
Mandy and Maxx have been trying to convince me that such space could be manufactured without too much difficulty but I suspect their judgement is clouded, respectively, by hanging lockers and the existence of a separate "Maxx Cabin."
In any event, I find that I wish we could simply get on with things; sell what we have, buy what we can, make it as close as possible to what we want, and go sailing and living. Instead, it seems we're stuck in a holding pattern for as long as the market requires, both on the selling and buying side of things.
Intellectually I am not only aware that this might take a while, but indeed have been planning on it taking a while... I have told myself to be happy if we sell Insegrevious by next summer, and that it could be six to nine months after that before we find a replacement we both like, can afford, and which is in suitable condition. And after that, it could be another six months or more of refitting even on a good candidate before we could actually go anywhere.
While my brain is on board with all this, my heart is not. Maybe it's a mid-life crisis sort of thing, but I want to get on with things, and am having trouble reconciling the idea that things are not likely to be gotten on with at anywhere near the clip with which I would like to get on with them. There's really nothing I can do to speed it up, but the waiting is interminable.
Last weekend, we went up to Everett to check out an Ericson 38-200. I have been wanting to get a look at one for quite a while now; on paper, they have much of what I think I am looking for in a boat. It's not a huge size, which keeps costs and control manageable; the build and sailing qualities are reputed to be good, and the longevity of the basic design seems to attest to it... two different companies have been building them for over thirty years. That also means they are generally available on the market, and a relatively new model can be had very nearly within our price range. Finally, the dash 200 version has a separate aft cabin (very popular with the peanut gallery) and the head roughly amidships, an unusual characteristic on American-made vessels of that era, but one that we find extremely attractive.
The particular boat we looked at was in sad shape and in no way worth the asking price, nor probably even half the asking price. But that was okay, there are others around the country available. In general, it was what we hoped it would be: sensible layout, decent tankage, and scads of storage. Way more storage than I had imagined, actually. We have been surprised how rare that is on putative cruising boats we have looked at, and it's a strong plus on the Ericson. Lots of hanging lockers make Mandy happy.
The layout is a little constrained compared to what we are used to on Insegrevious. The table drops down to form a berth, which is common, but it doesn't fold away, and the U-shaped layout of settees in the main cabin prevents you from using that space for anything else. Worse, the nav desk is pathetically small, and there is no where else aboard where a strapping fellow such as myself could easily lay out an office space. Since office space is one of the major factors driving our boat search, that may be a fatal flaw.
Mandy and Maxx have been trying to convince me that such space could be manufactured without too much difficulty but I suspect their judgement is clouded, respectively, by hanging lockers and the existence of a separate "Maxx Cabin."
In any event, I find that I wish we could simply get on with things; sell what we have, buy what we can, make it as close as possible to what we want, and go sailing and living. Instead, it seems we're stuck in a holding pattern for as long as the market requires, both on the selling and buying side of things.
Intellectually I am not only aware that this might take a while, but indeed have been planning on it taking a while... I have told myself to be happy if we sell Insegrevious by next summer, and that it could be six to nine months after that before we find a replacement we both like, can afford, and which is in suitable condition. And after that, it could be another six months or more of refitting even on a good candidate before we could actually go anywhere.
While my brain is on board with all this, my heart is not. Maybe it's a mid-life crisis sort of thing, but I want to get on with things, and am having trouble reconciling the idea that things are not likely to be gotten on with at anywhere near the clip with which I would like to get on with them. There's really nothing I can do to speed it up, but the waiting is interminable.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Boat for sale!
So, I've listed the boat finally... she's on Craigslist for $18,500 currently. I've gotten a gratifying amount of interest so far, averaging out to one call or e-mail about her a day, but I'm trying not to let that make me overly optimistic. There is a lot of tire-kicking that goes on in the used boat market, and I won't be at all surprised if we don't get a serious offer until next spring (the height of the boat selling season; sailing is a harder sell around here with pouring rain and raging winds in the fall and winter). Still, I hadn't really expected anything for a few weeks, so it's good that there is a level of interest.
It's had me thinking much more about what exactly will happen if we do manage to sell her in the near-term. We're already planning out Mandy's conference schedule for next year, and we're both focusing on expanding business this winter. The ideal situation might be to sell Insegrevious, throw our stuff into storage, and go hopping around the West Coast looking for a replacement, but that might be difficult to pull off. So I have been looking at small, cheap apartments here in town to serve as a sort of homebase during the looking/buying process.
There are a fair number in a reasonable price range (although I haven't actually gone to look at them; maybe they are disgusting) but the big problem is that almost all of them want a one-year term. I certainly don't want to still be stuck up here in a lease next fall... if we are actively searching with cash in hand, I would expect to buy something next summer and have time to get it up here (if it's not already in the area) or to move to wherever it is, before bad weather sets in.
It's very hard to pre-determine what the right solution will be, because different things make sense in different time frames. If in fact we don't manage to sell until next spring or summer, a one-year lease might not be a bad thing... we could keep working through next winter here and be all ready to go out and get the replacement the following spring, coinciding with the lease expiring. But for a shorter-term solution, I am still at a loss, and I dislike being without a plan of some sort.
It's had me thinking much more about what exactly will happen if we do manage to sell her in the near-term. We're already planning out Mandy's conference schedule for next year, and we're both focusing on expanding business this winter. The ideal situation might be to sell Insegrevious, throw our stuff into storage, and go hopping around the West Coast looking for a replacement, but that might be difficult to pull off. So I have been looking at small, cheap apartments here in town to serve as a sort of homebase during the looking/buying process.
There are a fair number in a reasonable price range (although I haven't actually gone to look at them; maybe they are disgusting) but the big problem is that almost all of them want a one-year term. I certainly don't want to still be stuck up here in a lease next fall... if we are actively searching with cash in hand, I would expect to buy something next summer and have time to get it up here (if it's not already in the area) or to move to wherever it is, before bad weather sets in.
It's very hard to pre-determine what the right solution will be, because different things make sense in different time frames. If in fact we don't manage to sell until next spring or summer, a one-year lease might not be a bad thing... we could keep working through next winter here and be all ready to go out and get the replacement the following spring, coinciding with the lease expiring. But for a shorter-term solution, I am still at a loss, and I dislike being without a plan of some sort.
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