On these two and a half days, 13, 14 and 15 July 2019, Dauntless continues her northward trip up the Inside Passage in British Columbia to Alaska.
Highlights of this day include:
We race the Alaskan Ferry Columbia
We have a freshwater leak that empties our only full water tank
We stop early to rebuild the water maker, which only takes about 4 hours, only to discover that it didn’t solve the problem
Each day was 65 nm in 9 hours and 30 min on the 13th and just over 10 hours on the 14th.
First half of day 3, was just from Sea Otter Inlet to the Bella Bella dock where we hoped to get water for our freshwater tanks.
Low lights consisted of us spending 6+ hours rebuilding the Katadyn watermaker high pressure pump only to discover it did not solve the problem of the oil seal that was in the electrical motor portion of the water maker.
Upon close inspection, I had suspected as much before we started, but I was hoping for one of those boating miracles that was not to be.
For some reason, there does not seem to be a lot of places to stop and get fresh potable water along the BC portion of the Inside Passage. The cruising guide did seem to indicate that water was available at Bella Bella, so that was our destination on the morning of the 15th.
Once docked, we found the hose, but it took me 15 minutes to figure out how to turn on the water. The valve was hidden just beyond alittle gate that made it difficult to see.
Once that was done, we filled both tanks and got underway to anchor for the night a few hours north in Mouat Cove.
The stop in Xtapa gave me a chance to reboot my mind. It was fitting that the trip ended at the same high stress level as just after leaving Huatulco. Having to enter a strange harbor and marina at night is always stressful. My depth perception is askew. Everything seems significantly closer than during the day. I have to force myself to trust the instruments.
This video doesn’t exist
We docked without incident, as usual. Got a good night’s sleep. And then my HP Envy laptop decided to give up the ghost. It was not to be replaced/repaired for another month, when I arrived in southern Calif, so no blogging for a while.
While this may appear to be a relief, in fact, it was the opposite. Writing about my adventures, my mishaps, my miscalculations, allows me to reflect on my practice.
As a high school principal, I quickly realized that during job interviews, when I was looking for additional teachers, the outcome of the interview really came down to three questions:
Was the prospective teacher intelligent, did they know their content area?
Did they like children?
Where they reflective in their practice?
I didn’t care if they knew how to teach; I could teach them that. But there is no way to overcome the negatives of any of the above three questions. You can’t make a lazy or stupid person, smart and not lazy. You can’t make them like children. There are too many teachers who teach because it’s convenient. In moments of black humor, we, principals, would say, they are here for the parking (some schools have convenient parking, some don’t).
And lastly, we live in a culture of blame. If things don’t go as we as we would like, we look to blame others, never looking in the mirror. It’s my parents, government, spouse, boss, fill in the blank’s fault. But good teaching practices only happen when the educator is reflective. After every teaching period, every day, every week, every year: what could I have done better? How can I connect with that student(s) better? Why didn’t they understand_____? or something as simple as, what worked, what didn’t?
Reflection allows our brain to better organize new data, recognize mistakes or things we could have done better or even just differently. In writing this post, I remembered in my 4th year of teaching, I had put up a mirror on the entry door with the caption, “Meet the person responsible for your learning today”. Much like reminding people to turn off cell phones in inappropriate places, it’s a little reminder that can go a long way.
As the boobies started to congregate on Dauntless, first resting on the paravane pole lines and at the end of the pole. Then, an intrepid fellow managed to land on the bow pulpit rail despite the pitching bows. Once other’s saw his success, we because a virtual bus ride north.
They did promise to clean up before they left, but I suspected they would forget that promise. But as I thought about their lives, I thought about how good we, Americans, have it so good. There was one fellow who parked himself on the rail right near the pilot house door. He was keeping watch with me. When I had to go out to pee, I didn’t want to disturb him/her, so I walked thru the boat to the stern deck, instead of my normal spot on the starboard side deck (where the high side rail offers more protection from falling overboard).
The numbers increased every day, until that last 24 hours when the pitching became untenable even for them. I think their coloring indicated they were juvenile blue or brown footed boobies.
Xtapa was a nice, albeit unexpected respite. It was 30-minute bus ride to Zihuantanejo. We ate, drank and slept well for 3 days waiting for the winds to subside.
Only an hour and a half after leaving the wonderful little stop of Marina Chahue, Dauntless’ winter home, we were underway once again. I wanted nothing more than an uneventful passage. I was so appreciative of Mark and Brian stepping up and volunteering as crew, so I wanted them to have a good time too with no worries.
Now I realize, that having a “good” time varies greatly from person to person, but in general, being on the open ocean is peaceful. It can be the epitome of serenity itself, unless there are nagging issues.
This video doesn’t exist
Beginning of Day 2, morning after the first night, 07:53
Dauntless was suffering from abuse. In the pervious two years, I’d ridden her hard and put her way wet. I loved this Kadey Krogen so much because I could do exactly that. The leak in the heat exchanger was the first “must stop the engine” problem I’d had since the middle of the Atlantic! That was more than 5,000 miles and 18 months ago.
This boat was made to take a beating and keep on ticking. But just as rough seas bothered me far more than Dauntless, the little problems on the periphery did the same. They kept me in a state of what’s next?
We spent the next 40 hours going west. I’ll explain why in more detail in the upcoming post, Chasing Weather Forecasts, but for now it suffices to say that I wanted to be 60 miles off the coast.
We were also running a bit harder than usual; the Ford Lehman was purring along at 1800 rpms. Maybe the purr was more of a growl to me, but it was important that we make good time while we had favorable winds, in this case they were WSW at 5 knots and we were making 7 knots.
The primary reason I don’t run at 1800 rpms is the significant decrease in efficiency from 1500 to 1800 rpms. Here are my estimated numbers in a flat sea:
Kadey Krogen 42-148 w Ford Lehman Sp135 & 4 Blade Prop
Thus, for a 16% increase in speed from 1500 rpms @ 6.2 kts, we consume 43% more fuel. That’s fuelish.
By early morning on the second day out, we turned northwest, on a heading that would parallel the coast until we could turn further north in a couple more days. Winds were still OK, from the north at 10 knots, thus on our beam, but not strong.
This video doesn’t exist
Evening of the of Second Day
By the end (48 hours underway) of the second day, we had covered 320 nm for an average of 6.7 knots. The pitching and rolling had been minimal, pitch less than 3° up or down and rolling less than 5° in either direction (always greater to lee side).
But then it all started to change. From the beginning there was a smallish weather window, from 2 to 3 days. Now, during our third night, that window was closing. Winds picked up to 320° @ 12 knots, so only 15° off the starboard bow (our course being 304°). Pitching increased to +4 (this is downward as measured by the Maretron Solid State Compass (which the autopilot uses too since it reacts better than the flux gate compass) and a more significant, -12° (bow pitching upward).
This was getting uncomfortable. For my intrepid crew, they took it in stride, far better than I.
Our watches were set so that I would get 6 hours sleep overnight. Brian and Mark covered 21:00 to 04:00 as they saw fit.
Before going to sleep that night, I did discuss with them the issue of weather. Our weather window was not only closing, but the forecast was for increasing winds right on our nose for the foreseeable future. While I was still hoping to get to Cabo direct from here, that was still 3+ days away. 12 knots on the bow is tolerable, 15 is borderline and 18 is a no-go.
They were up for it; as I went to bed that evening, I wasn’t sure I was.
I awoke 3 hours later. The boat was pounding, not constantly, but on every third pitch. Pounding to me is when the boat slams into a wave, like hitting a log. Thump.
I tried to go back to sleep. The master cabin in the Kadey Krogen is forward and the only downside is that this pitching motion is most apparent there. However, it usually doesn’t bother me. My first experience with a corkscrew movement was a few years before Dauntless came into our lives. We were sailing (literally) with my Dutch friends, Jan and Karin, in the Outer Hebrides, west of Scotland. Anchored in a rolly harbor off of St Kilda, that night I felt, dreamt, that I was sleeping on a roller coaster. The rhythmic corkscrew motion I found almost soothing. I slept well.
But this was different. The pounding bothered me. Things break with that sudden, jarring movement (and in fact it was during these days that the pressure switch stopped working on my fresh water pump. I later discovered it only had soldered connection which came apart).
My sleep became very fitful, waking every 10 to 15 minutes, my mid seemingly wanting to figure out what was going on. Finally, I turned on the light and tried to figure out the pattern the boat was in. For 30 minutes I measured the frequency of the pounding. On virtually every third pitch, which were 8 d=seconds apart, the boat would pound hard, every 25 to 28 seconds.
I also knew that which these seas, pitching movement, unlike rolling, takes significant power. In other words, instead of going 7 knots, we were now going 5.5, but using the same fuel as if we were going 7.
At 5.5 knots, it would take 100 hours to get to Cabo, that’s 4+ days of this crap. That was impossible.
I decided to start my watch early, figure out if we could mitigate the ride and if not, determine my options.
First thing I did, after I got the lay of the land, was to reduce rpms to 1650 and change course by 10° to the west. This put the seas on the stbd bow. Weirdly, our speed just slowed a tad to 6.0 from 6.1 (we also have currents off the Mexico coast, which are both tidal and non-tidal).
Significantly our pitch was reduced by almost 50%. I liked that. Even more importantly, the pounding stopped.
I could live with these conditions.
Alas, they were not to stay.
Just before sunrise, around 05:00, the winds increased to 330° @ 12 gusting to 16. This increased the pitch +4 to -8° and the roll +10 to -9°. I further reduced the rpms to 1590. Over the next couple of hours, Mother Nature started to mock me. The winds backed around to 290°, right on our nose again.
At 08:00 the winds were steady at 300°12 to 14 knots. I knew they would only get stronger during the day (the sun heating the air and land do cause the winds after all). This was also in line with the forecast of increasing winds over the next few days.
At 08:45, I informed the crew that we were changing course and would head to Xtapa, a little town with a nice marina just north of Zihuantanejo. This would mean a bit of backtracking. We were already north of Xtapa; however, the other alternative was Manzanillo, which was 113 nm at 330°. With the seas on our bow, increasing winds, it would take us 24 hours to get there. Whereas, Xtapa, at a heading of 065° would put the seas behind us and we should have a quick 12-hour ride. So long, because we were 70 miles offshore.
It ended up taking 14+ hours, but after pounding into the seas for 10 hours, who noticed.
Passing thru the shipping lanes, it was nice to have the Digital Yacht AIS transceiver. It allowed us all to avoid one another.
14 hours later, at 23:00, we entered yet another unknown harbor and docked in the dark, at Marina Xtapa
I do like the finer things in life. Too bad we see these things so late in life. When the Buddha referred to enlightenment, he probably meant just that, old enough to be over youthful self-centeredness to now have the vision to see those things around us as they truly are and to appreciate and be grateful for what we received from others. To recognize the things we may have distained in youth: duty, honor and respect are in actuality, the core of our being.
I suppose my thoughts have been directed this way because we are docked in the old basin in Honfleur, a day before the 6th of June, D-day. Even though it was 71 years ago, there are more American flags flying here then I have ever seen in all my travels in Europe over the past 40 years. I think because along the Normandy coast, these people, or their parents, great grandparents, actually witnessed Americans dying to liberate them.
It’s more personal, not an afterthought like in the rest of Europe where they take such things for granted.
OK so let’s talk about the last few days before my editor cuts me off.
But indulge me and let be start at the end.
All’s Well that Ends Well.
I‘m wearing my blue pinstripe suit for the first time since leaving New York. It feels good to be dressed. Oh, I’m wearing it with a sweater and tee shirt, so it is casual, but still, I feel good. Being alone, I have fewer occasions to dress well. I like dressing for Julie, as she does for me. And just like clothes, she would appreciate this restaurant as much as I do.
I have just had one of the best dinners I have had in a long time, certainly since Spain and Italy, at La Gambetta in Honfleur, France. As I sat there, watching the meticulous setting of the tables, the level of service, savored the marvelously prepared dishes, I thought of my father.
My father first came to France sometime in the mid-1960’s. I think. At least that’s when I was first aware of it. My parents were from the generation that kids didn’t have a need to know everything. But mom always talked about how much father loved France, clearly the food, and the wine, as he did bring home a case of wine from the Chateau du Bost, and women.??
Maybe it is as simple as the sense of well being and caring one gets form being in a restaurant that only has a single seating all evening. The focus is on the diners at hand, not what the future may hold. This is the norm in most of europe and everywhere in France, Spain and Italy. I understand more Dutch then French, yet the French always treat me well.
30 hours earlier, we had just finished docking. Adjusting the lines took another hour. Being on too short a finger pier is always challenging, as is the fact that our beam of 16’ is really wide for Europe. We may be the fattest boat in the harbor. But we had come through one lock, one bridge and a night on anchor unscathed, so I was ready to celebrate.
It wasn’t till we were firmly docked, as I took my celebratory shower, I luxuriated in the sense of another job well done. The first phase of the summer cruise was over. Dauntless and I were on the continent. We had dealt with the boat yard, we had dealt with the bottom paint, we had started the installation of the Wallas heater, and the bus heater. The lazerette was clean and organized. The Electroscan had been replaced by the Purasan and the Maretron system was not only giving me the correct data, it was even talking to Coastal Explorer. I had gotten the water maker up and running with the new auxiliary pump and new switch system. Life was good.
Larry and Karla were enounced in their cozy hotel room in Honfleur. They deserved it, as I had worked those two like a rented mule these last three weeks. Dauntless was never cleaner, nor brighter than the day we bought her. It was wonderful to have old friends, Larry I met on T-3 in 1973, and I was grateful to have another 4 hands to help with all the jobs to be done. All our visitors for the rest of the summer will benefit.
Yesterday, I had also finally gotten the tides and currents right. We hauled anchor at 05:00, currents were changing at 06:00 and we needed that full 6 hours of favorable current to get to Honfleur (just south of Le Harve) at a reasonable time.
We made such good time, 7 to 9 knots, that an hour out of the mouth of the Seine, I could reduce the rpms to 1200 and still made 6 knots to arrive at the lock for Honfleur with time to spare.
We had had 7 to 10 knots winds on our nose all day, but less than 10 knots, even with a current that is against the wind, meant the waves were only 1 to 2 feet. Best seas we have had for the previous three weeks. Our 10 hour trip took 8.
And quite different than the debacle of the day before, where we did 48 miles in the first 6 hours, then took 3 hours to go the final 6 miles, and then it got worse.
Since December, besides travelling to England, Italy, Spain and the U.S., I have been organizing tools and spare parts. I am making a computerized list of each part, their storage location, as well as any significant information, such as model number, etc.
Having also reorganized my tools and fasteners, clamps, etc., my life will be so much easier, and as an added bonus, I was able to throw away two garbage cans of packing materials.
Though I am returning to Dauntless today, I shall return to NY at the end of April for two weeks. Dauntless will be hauled out and have her bottom painted again while I am in NY. Then I will be joined by Larry, a friend of over 40 years, who I met on T-3. With that extra set of hands, we will complete the last of the winter projects.
What’s left to be done:
Replacing the Raritan toilet processing tank,
Installation of the Wallas DT40 heater
Installation of a 30,000 BTU “Bus” heater, which will use engine heat to heat the two cabins while underway,
Recommissioning the Katadyn water maker
General clean up
In my Next post, I will publish the updated Cruise Plan.
On another topic.
I made a new post on my other blog, Refeldtions, titled Another World Leader Appreciates the United States of America.
A great story that was in yesterday’s Opinion page of the Wall Street Journal, 21 March 2015, President Sisi of Egypt tells of a different reality than we are accustomed to hearing, day in and day out.
I thought it was important to share. If interested, the link is: richardbost.wordpress.com