Sept 10

4:50 am awake

Newport, Oregon

I head out to the washroom and the stars are amazing. Orion is shining so bright you can see all the stars in his sword. Not something you ever see in the city. The cats are still there skulking around; I imagine they are truly nocturnal in this environment. No one is interested in scratches, though.

Back at the boat everyone continues to dither with the revised forecast not helping much. Seems the weather farther south is going to increase to gale force and although that shouldn’t impact our sail to Coos Bay, it does mean our backup plan of going further to Port Orford is off the table.

6:05 am depart

It’s a go and we slip our lines and head out just as the sun starts to lighten the eastern sky.

6:30 am

As we cleared the bar and exited the channel Tim decided to give the mainsail a try as it will be downwind the whole way. On our first try at raising it, we (I) get a batten caught in the lazyjacks. So I had to drop it down again and clear it before hauling it back up. Then the headboard got tangled in the top of the lazyjacks (or so I think) but it won’t uncatch as I lower the main and so I have to pull it down by hand.

You have to imagine me up the mast about three feet in 20 knots of wind and 4 or 5 foot swells. You have to hold on tightly with one hand, literally hugging the mast, and try and get some leverage to haul down the sail with the other. Somewhere along the way we realized that the headboard was not in fact caught on the lazyjacks but the person who’d reattached the main halyard yesterday had failed to centre it between the two jacks and had just threaded it through the starboard one. The main wasn’t going anywhere like that.

So I had to carefully unscrew the main shackle and walk the halyard aft, thread it back through the lazyjack and then climb back up the three feet of mast so I could screw the shackle back on. Of course I also had to hang on, not let go of the halyard, thread the pin through the hole and tighten the screw, all at the same time.

So inevitably, my hand slipped, the halyard jerked out of my hand and went flying away. I growled a very inappropriate expletive as I slid off the mast steps, banging my shins and watching the dangling halyard head downwind like a not-so-colourful streamer attached to the top of a very tall mast.

Tim and I took turns lunging for it as it swept back and forth wrapping around every other line in sight but eventually I grabbed it as it swung around the backstay for the second time. All this, remember while the boat is pitching and rolling and we are still tethered to the damn thing, limiting our mobility. In retrospect it was likely quite comical to watch.

The thing one needs to realize is if the halyard had started to withdraw back into the top of the mast then someone would have to go up to get it; otherwise we would have no mainsail. Climbing a 50 foot mast is not a fun prospect when you are not tied to a dock. But we did snag it and it was all fine. Except now I had to unwind the rat’s nest of crisses and crosses around the topping lift, the backstay (which is completely enclosed by the solar panels) and the brand-new running backstays on either side Which seemed custom designed to make this situation an even bigger clusterf*ck. Eventually, however, we got it untangled again, centred between the lazyjacks and ready to be attached.

Being of somewhat moderate intelligence and capable of learning a lesson, this time I took a huge bight of the halyard and tied it to my pfd. I wasn’t losing that sucker again. Back up the mast, trying to line up the shackle with the hole, tighten the screw and not get pitched to the deck, I eventually got the shackle attached securely and climbed down to pant heavily in the cockpit for a while.

Back when Leslie and I chartered the Shearwater the charter company had left a list of extra charges we could incur if we were careless or negligent. One of them was around $100 if we “skied” the halyard. We both read that as rhyming with treed and had no idea what it meant. Eventually it dawned on us it was “skied” as in the past tense of “to sky”. Then we wondered what kind of idiot would do such a thing. Now I know.

Oh, and it turns out the careless bugger who didn’t thread the main halyard correctly through the lazyjacks in the first place was also yours truly. Not my day. But Tim was pretty good about it. And the only real downside in the end was a bruised shin and that we are at least an hour behind Sea Esta now.

7:10 am

Back on course with reefed main but still motor sailing.

9:45 am
44° 20.8114′ N,124° 14.3912′ W

It’s sunny and clear and the wind is almost directly behind us at 15-18 knots. But with the swells on our quarter it isn’t easy to keep the sails filled, so the motor stays on so we can make time. We are making 6-8 knots surfing down the swell which will keep this under a 12-hour day. Every sixth or eighth swell is super huge or comes at a weird angle. The autopilot can’t comfortably handle it and keep the sail filled, so we are hand steering. But it’s a beautiful day and pretty warm so no one minds.

11:30 am
44° 10.1770′ N,124° 18.5607′ W

The fog rolled in from offshore and our beautiful day has turned foggy, misty, even soppy. Visibility is 100 yards or less and now we have to keep a sharp lookout in every direction. Thankfully we are more than 7 miles offshore and crab traps and other traffic seem to be nonexistent.

1:46 pm
43° 55.6199′ N,124° 21.9027′ W

Still foggy. Still have to hand steer due to that pestiferous following swell.

Somewhere around 2-ish Donna joins us up on deck and suddenly we get a little ray of sunshine, both metaphorically and literally, peeking through the fog.

2:30 pm

We drop the sail (without drama) since the wind is down to 12-ish knots and to keep the sail filled we are having to head too far inshore. The sun slowly burns the fog away and once again we have warm sunny weather.

3:30 pm
43° 45.4541′ N,124° 21.1710′ W

The swells are almost gone (or so I thought) so Tim rolls out the headsail to see if we can sail again. I respond by eating an apple and closing my eyes for a rest in the sun.

5:00 pm
43° 36.1513′ N,124° 17.4745′ W

The damn fog is back. I blame Serafina. They hailed us on the VHF as they exited Reedsport just off our beam and enquired if we were in any fog. We weren’t. And then we were.

I’m back at the helm and keeping an eagle eye out for everything as we are now about 3 miles out. But it seems that Tim had just turned us further in and the seas are following us, which changes the rolly motion to a gentle up and down. But now we have to follow the coast so it’s back to the rolly-bouncy motion.

7:52 pm arrive
43° 20.7960′ N,124° 19.2681′ W
Charleston Marina, Coos Bay

It was still foggy when we hit the first entrance buoy to Coos Bay. It came looming out of the fog less than 100 yards away before we got a Mark I eyeball on it. I could see it on the chart plotter and the radar and Tim has his famous eagle eyes so it was all good.

We followed the line of red and green buoys in and eventually spotted the north breakwater. The channel gets narrower and narrower as you get further in so we bounced visually from buoy to buoy trying to hug the starboard side to avoid any possible outgoing traffic. Just inside the mouth of the river I picked up an AIS target and a few minutes later a big tug and barge passed us in the fog on our port side. Eerie.

The entrance to Charleston marina is a zigzagging channel and it was a lot of fun to navigate. The problem is that the navigable channel is dredged but there is still lots of water on either side that is all a big shoal. If we wander too far to either side we will run aground. It’s a bit tough on your nerves at the best of time. When you can’t see the next buoy it takes your alertness to a whole ‘nother level.

But eventually we rounded the last red marker and spotted the marina. Sea Esta had let us know there was a space right in front of them, so all we had to do was find them. Luckily the transient dock is right on the end and it wasn’t much hassle to pick them out in the dim light and fog. We were the last ones in.

When we arrived we were both wet and damp. The moist air had penetrated throughout pretty much everything I was wearing and a chill had started to set in. I was glad to have a chance to go below and start shedding clothes and drying out.

We tidied up the boat and then had a beer. Dinner was soup and biscuits and soon after I hit the sack. There was some talk of trying to get one more short leg in tomorrow but I am doubtful. Serafina is saying they are going but I don’t see the percentage as the weather is still going to crap a bit further south at least until Tuesday.

Sept 11

6:00 am awake
It was pretty obvious we weren’t going to go but it still took a bit of discussion to arrive at that conclusion. Weather routing by committee…I guess it’s a thing.

So I had a coffee and settled in to enjoy the morning.

Both Tim and Donna didn’t have internet on their phones last night and still don’t this morning. So they called the helpful people at T-Mobile to find out why. Turns out their unlimited North America roaming package has some fine print. If T-Mobile doesn’t have towers in a particular location, say Coos Bay, they switch to one of their many partners like say AT&T. But the partners, while they will honour the phone and text packages, won’t extend that to the data package, and subsequently impose limits. In the case of AT&T that limit is 100 mb each month. So when you hit your roaming limit for any given partner they cut you off with no option to acquire more…not even if you are willing to pay for it.

Thus Tim and Donna’s mega data plan is currently useless until the 19th or until we find a different set of towers somewhere down the Oregonian coast that are either T-Mobile or anther partner besides AT&T. As Tim would say, “Nice.”

I also learned something about mildew. While Tim and I were talking boat he mentioned his cored hull below the waterline helped prevent moisture buildup. When I mentioned mildew in unreachable places as being a concern of mine, he said mildew wouldn’t appear on fiberglass; it needed something organic to grow on. That’s why it would often appear on pillows because it grew on the oils and detritus from people’s scalps. Ah ha! That makes so much sense. He also said it is one of the reasons that doing things like cooking bacon etc. can be a bad thing on a boat because the oil gets everywhere and provides a base for the nasty black growth that is a boater’s bane.

Dock Life

The transient dock here at Charleston Marina is the local favorite hangout for people who like to crab from the dock. And there are a lot of them. It’s like a tailgate party with lawn chairs, coolers and lots of families joining in. Apparently when Sea Esta came in yesterday they had to evict a bunch of crabbers and their pots to get a spot. They were all gone by the time we arrived but they were back in force this morning starting as early as 6.

In general this coast certainly has crabs galore. I wouldn’t have believed the crabbing in and around Newport was sustainable. Hundreds of fisherman were bringing in dozens of crabs each. One fellow I talked to with a couple of dozen crab had actually been fishing. The crab traps were just an afterthought. In the PNW a couple of crabs is considered a good haul.

In the early afternoon I spent a couple of hours writing below to stay out of the wind. While the sun is out, it’s also windy and cold and not really outside weather–unless you are a crabber, I guess. But there is no way we really wanted to be out sailing in that. Serafina, however, did pull out per their plan around 6 am. Hopefully they made to their anchorage at Port Orford before the winds built.

Then I went for a walk. It’s a small fishing town with not much to see. And the combination of it being a Sunday and September 11 means everything except the corner store is closed. I did find free wifi outside the Portside Restaurant and Lounge and spent almost an hour texting back and forth with Leslie and checking in on all my social media. I’ll go back later and post some blog stuff.

I also saw a bunch of huge piles of oyster shells across from a sea food store. Some of them were also bundled in netted bags like they were for sale. I wonder if there is a market for them. There was a momma and 4 kittens hanging out under a table in front of the local store. I got in some good scratching time and sent off a picture to C so she could be jealous. The black one had this lovely hint of auburn in his fur. So cute and mom was so ready to let them go.

Back on board I read for a while and snacked on cake. Donna made some tea and she and Tim headed up for showers after their run. I had one bright and early with lots of hot water. Turns out later in the day the showers are a lot cooler. Lucky me.

Winds are now 25 knots at dock so it’s a bumpy day. One boat, Selkie a Jenneau 42 DS, came in having done a straight shot from Victoria. We heard them call in on the radio to the Coast Guard and later Tim called them back to let them know about the strong cross wind and the now empty spot behind us that had held Serafina.

Then T&D headed into town to find a wifi hotspot and I continued to blog. As of this point I am actually all caught up. I wonder what will happen next?

Well the Customs saga continues. When Selkie came in they contacted the Coast Guard since they couldn’t get hold of the CBP. So when the Coasties came down Tim mentioned he also couldn’t check in since they had no contact info. He’d even contacted Bellingham early in the morning but they’d given him a number that was out of service. So while T & D were out looking for wifi, the Coast Guard guy came back and asked for our cruising license info and our IDs and gave me the cell phone number for the local customs guy. He recommended we call just in case.

When I got back from posting a blog entry I let Tim know and he called in. It was all good but still were told we needed to call in at the next port and “No, we don’t have a contact number for that port.” Seriously, you’d think it wasn’t a federal agency with the little amount they seem to know about each other.

I spent an hour reading below. It’s a cold wind today and impossible to stay warm on deck. Eventually we wandered over to Sea Esta for happy hour. Mark mentioned his blog is, or at least his blog entries are, entitled Running Down the Coast — get it … he’s a runner and he’s running down the coast … clever eh — so I will have to look it up later. 7:30 found us back on Northwest Passage and smelling the delicious dinner in the oven.

It looks like another late dinner and early evening. And there’s no gimlets in sight. Sigh.

Sept 8

7:30 am Awake

I got up and sipped coffee from a real mug. Eventually after savoring coffee at the right temperature, I got dressed and joined the conference over on Sea Esta. Seems Jim didn’t have his reef line installed and was trying to get it rigged. That went on for a bit but I eventually wandered away so as not to keep getting in the way.

There were four other boats on dock heading south. While I was sitting on deck Seraphim arrived; they had been communicating with Tim previously by email as they were also heading for San Diego to join the Baha Ha Ha. Later that night one more Canadian boat pulled in for a grand total of seven transients heading south. One of them (a French boat) was ultimately heading for French Polynesia.

As I was walking down the dock the single-hander aboard Tiger Beetle mentioned our starboard upper spreader seemed to be bent. Sure enough, something had put enough force on it to bend it up 15 or 20 degrees. This was a bit of an issue since the rigging is what keeps the mast up and the sails flying.

Tim was also doing some engine work trying to patch a pinhole leak in the exhaust. It seems the boat wanted to stay in Newport for a while. I was going to go shopping for sunscreen and toothpaste but decided with all the hooplah to just run to local marina store and see what they had there.

There are tons of coast guard boats here. I’ve seen more boats and Coasties here in one day than I think I’ve seen in total in the PNW. Since we are right across from the fuel dock, they all pull in daily to fuel up. One of the fellows on the dock, Cody, a Texan, says this is the coast that all of the members get sent to for training. Supposedly the most rugged waters and challenging conditions in the U.S.

We turned the boat around to relieve some of the force on the starboard shroud and Tim decided a trip up the mast to check out the spreader was called for. So we broke out the bosun’s chair and I belayed him up the mast. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason for how the damage occurred, but the stainless steel tang that was riveted to the mast was definitely bent.

At that point it becomes a discussion on what to do about it. Nobody was enough of an expert in stainless to know if just bending it back would weaken the metal significantly, and drilling out the rivets to remove the tang seemed like an excessive solution.

So we called around. Tim called guy who referred him to a local rigger. Turns out he was local to Newport, Massachusetts. I got a number from the guy at the fuel dock for a local marine service guy and he agreed to come down and look. Then it was sit-around-and-wait time for a bit.

After he arrived there was a lot of talking and head scratching and eventually Tim ground him up using a winch to take a look. The consensus was straightening the tang and locking the shrouds in place with some cable clamps would solve the problem. Tim had removed some old wire running back stays and it was also decided that building some new ones out of amsteel (a synthetic line similar to spectra) might help prevent it from happening again.

So Tim caught a ride to the local chandlery and picked up some parts (the fellow, whose name was, ironically, Mike Chandler, was kind enough to lend Tim his 20% discount).

Meanwhile I hung out and chatted with the neighbours and generally relaxed in the sun. As the day went on the winds climbed and the boat had a distinct tilt to it.

After Tim got back we hauled him up the mast again where he installed the clamps and had to resew the leather chafe protection. Something that was a lot more difficult 50 feet above the water in the wind than you would suppose. The chandlery didn’t have all the parts for the back stays so it was going to be another trip to the store and another trip up the mast tomorrow.

So while I was standing around on dock watching Tim dangle from a halyard he shouted to me to go help a MacGregor down the dock. The small sailboat had lost power on its outboard and the strong winds had blown it onto Tiger Beetle. There was only one fellow on board with three small boys. When I got there the master of Tiger Beetle had wrestled the boat into the small space between the sterns of the docked boats and was trying to keep it pinned stern-to to the dock. I clambered aboard and tried to get a line on the stern of the French boat to keep the MacGregor from bashing into the Beetle while everyone desperately tried to get the outboard restarted.

Then another shout from Tim had me abandoning the MacGregor to scurry back up the dock to help fend a newcomer off the dock as he’d mistimed his turn and wasn’t able to get into his slip.

Then it was rushing back to the MacGregor where they managed to restart the engine and we cast off and I rode over to the fuel dock where they could catch their breaths and investigate the engine issue. Then it was a run back to our boat to send up some tools to Tim and eventually lower him back down to the deck. I got quite the workout there for a few minutes.

Then it was a beer and dinner and a quiet night before bed.

Sept 9

7:30 am awake

After a nice cup coffee I headed up for a shower. I ran into the MacGregor guy who chatted my ear off as I attempted to brush my teeth and grunt in response. Nice enough guy but a typical farmer with a typical rural outlook on life. Except for the drawl I could have been talking to someone in Brooks.

Tim and Donna had walked into town early to pick up the new battery and hopefully catch a ride back, so I sat in the cockpit and caught up with writing.

10:10 am

The battery showed up and we got it installed. Then we moved the boat over to the fuel dock to top up the tanks and change slips to try and get out of the wind.

Lunch was a toasted egg sandwich. Have I mentioned how spoiled we are?

The Customs guys (4 of them) show up as we leave the fuel dock. Tim had talked to them the day before and received a mild reprimand for not checking in upon arrival. Sea Esta was stubbornly insisting they had been told at entry they didn’t need to check in so they hadn’t. Since they were away on a run the CPB guys stopped by and reminded us politely that Sea Esta had better call them, but the 4 officers and generally martial milling made the message sound a lot more intimidating than polite.

Then it was time for a long walk across the bridge to the old town docks where Englunds Chandlers was located so I decided to tag along. Of course tagging along with runners Tim and Donna is a bit of an exercise in itself but I survived the 2 mile or so journey.

We crossed the gorgeous Yaquina Bay Bridge, which was built in 1936 and was Federal Emergency Administration of Public Works Project no. 932. It’s a gorgeous piece of Art Deco architecture with ornate concrete and metal work. It’s really too bad we as a society can’t afford to build things like this anymore.

Exiting the bridge and turning right we passed the Coast Guard station and entered the old docks area, which has been revitalized as a tourist destination with gift shops and tons of fresh seafood places. What makes it interesting is the fishing docks and plants are still there in and amongst the ocean-view restaurants.

We stopped in to see the source of all the noise we’ve been hearing constantly. It’s a special set of docks reserved for sea lions, and man are they loud. They are a protected species so they tend to take over space and make it there own. We also ran into Mark there; he’d been on a bit of a run and was looking for lunch.

Right beside the sea lions was a familiar sight. The old undersea gardens that lived in Victoria so long is now here looking a little shabby and long in the tooth but still a going concern. It’s still even owned by the Oak Bay Group so I guessed they just decided it would be more profitable here in Newport.

The chandlers was stuffed full of stuff I “needed” but I managed to restrain myself and got away without buying anything. Tim and I headed back to the boat and Donna went off to Starbucks for coffee and wifi.

Back on board I learned to splice amsteel as the lines needed loops in each end. Pretty easy if you have a fid (a fancy type of splicing needle).

Then I belayed Tim up mast again — I say belayed because unlike the fellow the day before, Tim actually climbs the mast. All I do is make sure he doesn’t lose any ground as he inches up. He ran the new blue running back stays from the spreader and then cleaned off all the bird crap and algae while he was there. On the way down he cleaned the first spreaders as well and then we were done aloft … hopefully.

Then it was time for a beer. I wandered up to the Rogue Beer outlet by the marina showers and picked up some Hazelnut Brown Porter. Jim and Mark came by and we started a conversation about whether to stay or go that ultimately lasted until we actually left.

The crux is the weather about 100 miles south is turning bad in the next few days. It’s looking like we can’t get much further until Tuesday so is there any point in leaving beautiful Newport? And there is a small chance that the weather will come early and we would be 77 miles south and not able to come in to port. The range of opinions on the dock is vast and a lot of people are insistent that leaving in the morning is a poor choice.

Personally I think the weather predictions look good and it’s purely a matter of whether we think being one leg closer to Cape Mendocino has any value. That’s the cape that has all the unpredictable weather and marks the end of the “dangerous” Northwest coast. So I think it’s fine to go but think staying is a better choice if we have another three days to wait for good weather.

Later when Tim wandered off I had another long philosophical conversation with Donna. She got a thoughtful soul and is fun to wax spiritual with. It always makes me realize how much I do embrace modern spirituality in my core, but just don’t have any patience with the bullshit trappings associated with “new age” thinking. The Lord’s Prayer had it right: “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”  Do we need more than that? There isn’t really any need for God or any other divine presence to be a part of that simple philosophy.

Later, after dinner, when I walked up to the bathrooms by the fish-cleaning station I ran into the local pride of feral cats. There were a few adults and about 6 gangly teenagers, all black or black and white, feasting on the scraps they could get at. Very skittish but they would casually ignore me in that cat way as long as I held still.

Back at the boat it is bed time but there is still no absolute decision; but the votes are such that we will likely be up around 5 am and head out to Coos Bay.

Sept 6

6:00 am awake

6:30 am up and around

It was a misty morning and the wind was building — it was probably the flapping halyard that woke me– but the boat was still quiet so I tiptoed out and headed for town.

7:00 am

Just down from the head of the dock there was a small cafe so I popped in to use the washroom and enjoy a good old-fashioned truck stop coffee (a $3.26 truck stop coffee–Starbucks hasn’t done us any favours).

It was one of those old rundown, refurbished and then run down again small-town places — I felt right at home. This such a working town; across the mouth of the river there are houses and condos but over here it’s working class and damn proud of it. They did have wifi so I made use of it and checked in here and there.

As I left I ran into Tim and Donna on the quiet street and Donna decided on a cup for herself. I remembered too late to mention the extortionate pricing so she also got to enjoy a very expensive cup of not-so-great coffee. Unfortunately for her she’s a fan of the good stuff and didn’t see the the nostalgic value in sludge-like quality.

Lucky Girl is also also planning on a 10 am departure so it looks like we will all be pulling out together again. They are heading up the Columbia, though, so this will be our last encounter. Our plan is to do the 150 nm trip to Newport, Oregon. That will mean around 24-30 hours of travel time.

Back at the dock Sea Esta reported a bad solenoid. They manage to get the engine going only after the judicial application of a hammer. That’s a bit worrisome if they can’t get it started again once we leave the dock.

Then a bit later as we prepared to get off, we found we couldn’t start our engine either. The starting battery was dead. After a bunch of checks Tim pried off the caps and the battery had run dry. We topped it up and plugged into shore power to get the battery charger going, and 10 minutes later we were up and running. But that battery is likely cooked and we will have to replace it the next time we stop.

Then we moved over to the fuel dock and filled up with diesel and topped up the water. The engine started right up so hopefully it will hold a charge.

10:00 am departure

We motored out into the Pacific and angled out to sea. The winds had died so it didn’t look like we would be doing much sailing. A little while later we spotted some orcas. There were 4-6 of them heading in the opposite direction.

11:00 am

We raised the sails hopefully in 6-8 knots of wind only to have the wind drop to 3-4 knots. So we fired up the engine again and motor-sailed along in the sunny and warm weather. I began shedding clothes and settled in to enjoy the day.

12:10 pm
46° 46.2523′ N,124° 11.1197′ W

We gybe and head further offshore. I think we will stay 12-15 nm out for most of the trip.

Eventually we shake the reef that was still in the main and continue motor sailing at around 6-6.4 knots speed over ground.

1:00 pm
46° 42.4484′ N,124° 14.5002′ W

We finally killed engine and were sailing downwind at a heading of around 205°, making about 5.5-6 knots. It’s so nice to just listen to the wind and the waves.

It occurred to me that trips like this really go much smoother than one has a right to expect. Every one of us out on the water generally has a strong personality and there are a lot of moments when — if you will forgive my regressive terminology — there are too many chiefs and not enough injuns. Certainly the instances of oneupmanship are high when discussing boats, weather etc., but it seems that socially we have a built-in filter so all the bullshit just slides off and we hear the underlying truths and realities. That way we (and by we I suppose I mean men) can actually get things done.

Not that anyone on our trip is outrageously bad or anything but by necessity there’s a lot of alpha out on the ocean blue.

2:10 pm
46° 35.7409′ N,124° 18.3327′ W

Lunch left me logy so I decided to indulge in a nap/rest in the sun. Northwest Passage doesn’t have much cockpit space to spare but I managed to wedge myself in and relax in the rolly seas.

After a while I indulged in a bit of blog writing. I am mostly making notes during the day and revisiting them to fill in the details. The WordPress interface on the phone sucks and really doesn’t like offline editing so I am using Notepad for notes and IA Writer to do the final draft before I paste it into WordPress whenever I can find signal.

I still haven’t recovered from lunch and am feeling a bit like I ate an entire Tony’s New York Style by myself. I am pretty convinced it’s just indigestion but the seas are pretty damn confused and there are some steep 10+ foot swells hitting us on the port quarter so maybe I’m fooling myself.

I keep drinking water and start paying more attention to sailing and less to my phone to see if that helps.

3:13 pm
46° 30.1063′ N,124° 20.6920′ W

We roll in the jib and fire up the engine in dying winds. That takes us from 4 knots to 6.5 knots and we start making better time.

4:15 pm
46° 23.9561′ N,124° 21.8655′ W

We caught up to Sea Esta. They have a monster genoa and make much better time downwind than we can.

Tim spotted some huge spouts on the horizon along our heading so maybe there are some whales in our future.

By 4:22 we passed right by them. There were probably 3 or 4 humpbacks and we got reasonably close before they showed tail and dove out of sight.

I’m not feeling much better, but am still convinced it’s more indigestion than seasickness. I don’t feel queasy and it is definitely centered in my gut. More of a belch-y thing than a pukey thing. I guess time will tell.

5:20 pm
46° 18.9010′ N,124° 22.6823′ W

Well, all the sails are down. The swells are huge and the jib was filling and crashing each time we slid into a trough. Dark isn’t that far away and it seemed better to get it all down and snug while we still had light since it was obvious we weren’t going to do any real sailing tonight.

The swells are easily exceeding 10 feet and the other boat disappears except for its mast each time we slide down. The tips of some of the swells are starting to break, forming little waves that loom behind and above our sterns. While there is no danger of them actually landing on us, it is an eerie feeling to see that wall of water rush towards you before the stern slowly climbs up the slope of the wave and you pop back up on top. Then you do it all over again.

I’m feeling a bit better; not 100% but if I’m focused on something else I forget about my grumbling gut.

Another 5 or 6 whales appear off starboard side. They are generally quite close — less than 100 yards — but the speed differential means they go by pretty fast.

7:45 pm
46° 6.1304′ N,124° 20.5348′ W

The seas are calmer now. And the water is gorgeous in the fading light. It’s so warm I don’t need gloves and standing in the wind is downright pleasant.

8:30 pm
46° 3.3954′ N,124° 18.9869′ W

It is almost fully dark and I am alone on watch as Tim has headed below to lay down. I’m now tethered to the boat and moving back to the wheel is more of an operation but at least that means no one will get lost overboard in the darkness.

We are motoring along with no sail at around 4.3 knots. Last we saw Sea Esta had also dropped their sails although it looked like there was a bit of drama involved in that operation. We found out later one of their lazy jacks broke and they had to dump the sail partially on deck before the could stuff it back into the sail bag.

10:15 pm

I’ve been chatting with Donna for a bit, but she’s headed below to sleep so she can keep Tim company later. Sea Esta is now astern of us and I can see her mast and running lights.

There is no moon and it’s cloudy so there isn’t much else to see besides the far-off glow of some big fishing boats.

11:20 pm

I am starting to notice the phosphorescence in the water. The frothy wake of the boat is all illuminated and there are all these bright sparkles in the water as we zoom by.

Sept 7

12:00 am
45° 44.4749′ N,124° 13.9020′ W

Tim came up around 11:40 and we chatted after he checked our position and the radar etc. Then he sent me below for a 4-hour break, letting me know he will wake me if he needs me.

He had set up the pilot berth (a narrow mid-ship berth) with a lee cloth (a curtain-like strip of fabric to keep you from rolling out) but I elect to head to my v-berth and just wedge myself against the hull with pillows.

The swells have moderated a bit since this afternoon but every once in a while one will send you flying if you aren’t holding on or braced.

I don’t sleep much for the first few hours but inevitably zonk out an hour before my shift and like an idiot I forget to check the volume on my alarm.

4:50 am
45° 13.4465′ N,124° 11.1053′ W

I wake up and my alarm is frantically vibrating on the bed beside me with the volume turned down. So I popped up and went to apologize to Tim. He was all snugged in with blankets to try and keep off the dew and not outwardly irritated with his lax crew. Still it was a rookie mistake.

We talked for a bit, wiped down the foggy dodger and then he headed below.

The clouds had disappeared and the stars were spectacular. Tim had mentioned he’d seen a few shooting stars and been visited by a few porpoises. Apparently they are like glowing torpedoes as they zoom through the water in a phosphorescent streak. But their visits were always short-lived.

It was just a little while before the glow of dawn starred to appear over the shore side. I did spot a shooting star among the myriad stars, but alas no porpoises deigned to visit me.

The rest of the morning passed peacefully, with only Sea Esta’s running lights in the distance to keep me company.

8:00 am

Toast and coffee on deck. Everyone is up and about but I decide to just stay up and catch up on sleep later. No wind at all but still some fairly large swells.

8:40

We are joined by a couple of sea lions for a while but they quickly abandon us to our fates. We are slowly angling back towards shore and spot 8 or so small fishing boats bobbing about.

9:00
44° 48.0360′ N,124° 7.3857′ W

Fog is closing in and we start to keep a sharp watch on the radar.

Several giant orange-and-white jellyfish float by.

10:23

The fog has thickened and visibility is less than 100 yards. So that’s when a humpback decides to surface 40 or 50 feet directly off our bow. If it had been a boat, I would definitely have labeled it a near miss. (A couple of days later we found out it was likely a gray whale and not a humpback.)

The fog gets worse and now we are dodging crab traps, small fishing boats, big fishing boats and the aforementioned large marine mammals.

Eventually we spot the green entrance buoy and can start our run into Newport.

11:46 am arrive
44° 37.4377′ N,124° 3.1479′ W
Newport, Oregon, Yaquina River

The fog was thick. Thick.

The fact is there was 100 yards or less visibility. Tim radioed a nearby AIS target to make sure he sees us on his radar and the large fishing trawler decided to slow down and not crowd us.

We knew there was a dredging operation going on but suddenly this huge dredge loomed out of the fog in the port side. Tim had seen it coming on the radar but it was shocking to me, as I stood on the bow, to see it suddenly appear.

Eventually we were passed by the fishing boat. He must have got impatient because he radioed us to ask if he could pass us. We were happy to let him by, but unfortunately he was going to fast for us to follow him in.

The giant Art Deco bridge suddenly loomed above us and then the fog broke. Inside the mouth of the river the sun was shining and all our worries about trying to find the marina disappeared.

On the other hand, the first thing we did after turning in the breakwater by the marina was run aground. We decided to give up in our designated slip and dock on the outside of the transient peer. We got off the bottom with some judicious wiggling and tied up to the dock.

We had motored over 24 hrs. So far not much of a sailing trip.

We walked up and registered and the I grabbed a roll of U.S. quarters and hit the shower. I needed a shower. It was a glorious shower. Then I just hung out and read and rested.

Dinner was at Rogues Brewery. This is a brewery that shares the same South Beach real estate as we do. I had a flight of ambers along with a albacore fish and chips. Totally delish.

I checked in with the sketchy free wifi. And then wandered back to the boat. I hit the sack at 8 and fell asleep watching Magic Mike on my iPad.

Sept 4

6:50 am awake

Get up, get dressed in the semi-dark and try to remember where you put everything night before so you don’t destroy your night vision. But there’s coffee when you emerge so it’s all ok.

7:30 am depart

Its a calm morning and Sea Esta casts us off and we slowly drift away. Then it’s simply a matter of firing up the engine and we are off.

While Sea Esta raised their anchor we take a slow tour of the harbour and docks and then follow them out into the strait.

8:56 am

Cape Flattery. That’s the big left turn moment when we exit the relatively protected waters of the Strait of Juan de Fuca and head south along the rugged Washington and Oregon coast. As with all these momentous moments in my sailing career to date it was a non-event.

We turned south and continued to motor in a small swell with no winds. Still it’s an accomplishment and we will be in the Pacific for the rest of the trip.

9:35 am
48° 20.5334′ N,124° 45.3532′ W

We spotted a humpback and watched him sound with a flap of his massive tail.

One thing of note is that the U.S. weather broadcasts are quite different than the Canadian ones. Their male voice is much more stern and authoritative but it still has some quirks. The one that got me was the hourly announcement  that there was no pleasurable precipitation. I kept wonder what that was. A warm rain? Enough rain for a good shower? Maybe it would rain hard enough to be like one of those massaging shower heads? Eventually I figured out it was measurable not pleasurable which took the mystery out of it and ironically enough reduced the pleasure.

11:00 am
48° 12.0367′ N,124° 47.9520′ W

Nothing happening. No wind, swells, lots of water.

1:00 pm
48° 0.9295′ N,124° 46.0987′ W

See above.

Sea Esta is zigzagging trying to limit their roll. The Baltic’s deep keel and heavier displacement makes it a gentler boat than the Catalina in Rollin seas. They, however, have a full enclosure so I don’t feel very sorry for them.

1:36 pm

Tim whipped out his harmonica, well one of them: he has seven I think (A B C D E F & G), and treated us to some solos. He’s pretty good although like most amateur musicians he insists he’s not so hot.

Be that as it may he did attract a couple of porpoises for our visual pleasure. They didnt stick around long–probably more punk oriented and just not fans of the blues.
The Catalina kept rolling and performed even more zigzagging to try and keep the swell off their quarter and we just plowed steadily along.

Eventually we came in sight of Cake Rock which resembles nothing less than a giant cake. Go figure. It did mean we were getting in sight of the entrance to La Push so that was exciting.

There weren’t even ripples on the water and I spent some time on the side deck watching our bow wake disturb the glassy water of the Pacific. Mesmerizing and beautiful. So I shared it on Instagram.

A little later a couple more porpoises came by but no one wanted to play.

2:55 pm arrived
La Push, WA
47° 54.7037′ N,124° 38.2175′ W

La Push was our first bar entrance but it was a non-event. Beautiful, but other than having to pay attention to the buoyage it was no different than entering any other harbour for us. Most (all?) of the ports in Washington and Oregon are in river mouths. That means there is usually a delta of some sort where the water crashing in from the pacific both suddenly shallows and constricts. This can make for some big waves and dangerous conditions. The Columbia River bar is said to be one of the most dangerous and treacherous in the world. But like the tidal rapids in the PNW, if you pay attention to the weather and time it right they should be no issue. We have plenty more to do so I guess we’ll see.

No one was answering on the radio so we picked random slips and tied up. A Fishery guy did pop over to see if we had caught anything but that was it. We never did find anyone and so ended up with a free night of moorage.

I headed out for a walk as everyone else was talking about going for a run and I didn’t want to get swept up in their insanity. It’s a native community but there is a terrific beach on the other side of the breakwaters and tons of tourists camping and staying in some beautiful waterfront cottages.
I went looking for some sunscreen but they were sold out; huh. Along he way I encountered Jim and Mark staring down the beach. Apparently they had lost Donna. A bit later I found Tim who had likewise lost Donna. Donna is starting to remind me a bit of Leslie who also has a habit of getting lost.

Back on board we had a visit from Lucky Girl who is a Selene trawler (maybe 40-45 feet). Apparently they were in Neah Bay last night as well but we hadn’t spotted them in the dark. They were on their way to Portland and also were planning on stopping in Gray’s Harbor next.
Then it was time for a beer. Jim and Mark popped over and we discussed plans. There was a bit of a heated discussion on safety, pfds and mob drills but it was all resolved in the time-honoured fashion of each to his own.

Dinner was tasty burgers and after we did a few chores like topping up the water tank and engine checks. I will admit sitting in the evening air that I gained an appreciation of Leonard Cohen. Although since I don’t really know his stuff I did embarrass myself by asking who we were listening to. I mean I’ve heard all the songs before by different performers but who actually listens to Leonard Cohen? I guess from now on that’ll be me.

The rest of the evening was spent sitting quietly on deck with the funky disco led lights and relaxing.

Sept 5

5:50 am awake
6:00 am depart

We beat Sea Esta and Lucky Girl off the dock and across the bar but the trawler soon passed us and the two sailboats angled out to sea. breakfast was waffles which Donna did in this cool single-sided waffle pan.

7:23 am

We put the head sail out in winds SW at 5 knots. Pretty soon we were cruising along at 6.0 knots with the motor still running.

Eventually though we had to roll the sails back in, but Sea Esta stubbornly kept her main out and zigzagged back and forth. 

9:15 am
47° 37.8264′ N,124° 37.9374′ W

We picked up an AT&T about about 5 nm offshore so everyone immediately checks their phones like a bunch of teenagers.

A bit later we spotted a couple of other boats but they were going the other way.

11:00 am
47° 30.0859′ N,124° 29.5289′ W

At this point we are motoring 3 nm offshore but decide to move in closer so we could at least enjoy the scenery. So Tim had a nap and I played that boater favourite, Bird or Crab Trap. There are a lot of crab traps.

12:25 pm

A bazillion birds started flocking to a spot just off the starboard side with dolphins diving in and around them. Then suddenly they all took off and moved ahead of us and gathered again. There were pelicans, cormorants, gulls and and something I am calling murrelets but who the hell knows what they really are. Anyway, we guess it was a herring ball but whatever it was it was cool to see the birds converging.

Speaking of birds, I keep seeing these black stubby gull-like birds swooping mere inches above the water and moving up and down with the swells. It’s a terrific but of acrobatic flying.

2:50 pm
47° 8.7814′ N,124° 16.2876′ W

Still motoring.

3:50 pm

A couple of porpoises came along and were cavorting in the rain that finally caught up to us. I am starting to get wet. 

5:30 pm
46° 54.7574′ N,124° 10.5088′ W

Still wet but at least we are crossing a relatively benign bar. 

6:24 pm arrived
46° 54.6005′ N,124° 6.7178′ W
Westport Marina, Gray’s Harbor

It was a 68 nm day but we are settled in the transient moorage at Westport Marina in Gray’s Harbor, Washington. Tim and I break out the tarp to keep the rain out and sit relaxing and enjoying a Bud.

It’s a huge fishing town, really reminds me of the oil patch. A local deckhand looking for work stopped by to chat and beg a glass of water. Sounds like fishing is another boom and bust industry for the workers.

The transient space is only $25 but the facilities are pretty sparse. I am starting to dream of a hot shower. Dinner was pressure cooked ribs but I too tired to gorge.

9:14 pm Lights out

September 2

8:00 am Depart

We got up to a rainy morning and had coffee before it was time to go. Breakfast was toast (Donna has a toaster and isn’t afraid to use it!) and jam and, in Tim’s case, peanut butter, peanut butter and more peanut butter.

Jim and his crewman Mark had talked game about going for a run at 6 am, but apparently that was a fair weather plan as they didn’t emerge until close to departure time. We cast off from them and headed out of the bay. Northwest Passage turned to starboard and Sea Esta X turned to port to go around Sucia. We met up on the south side with us in the lead.

We spotted some sea lions cohabiting with seals on reef off Sucia. Apparently détente is possible.

The wind was 12-15 knots on nose and it was rainy and wet and cold the whole way. Most of the trip was using Auto with us huddled behind the dodger drinking tea and watching the U.S. go by.

Vendovi Island
48° 36.883′ N, 122° 36.741′ W

Our first destination was Vendovi Island, a nature conservancy whose caretakers were authors of some west coast cruising guides (Pacific Mexico and Sea of Cortes by Shawn Breeding and Heather Bansmer). They parked their boat, Om Shanti, at the dock there and lived in the caretaker’s house on this relatively untouched island…talk about a good gig.

After picking up the books and getting them signed, we all chatted for a while picking up hints from these 7-year veterans of the Mexican coast. Then we cast off and headed the shorter distance into Anacortes.

2:50 pm arrive at Cap Sante Marina, Anacortes
48° 30.8050′ N,122° 36.3141′ W

We followed the buoys down a dredged channel and behind a huge breakwater and pulled up to the fuel dock to top up. We put in 47 U.S. gallons of diesel and then filled the tanks now lashed to the rails with another 20 gallons. We should be good to go now if we get any wind.

We moved over to the Anacortes Yacht Club reciprocal docks but there was no room. Tim magically finessed us into a tight berth along side but it wasn’t actually available for us to use. A lovely fellow from Vancouver volunteered to give us his space and we moved over and snugged right up to the dock with Sea Esta X rafted to us.

I headed into town to check with customs on check-in numbers and buy some beer. Customs for some reason was closed. After exploring a bit I ran into Donna who’d found a buy 2, get 1 free deal and was loaded down with 36 cans of Bud. I offered to buy a case and helped her haul her loot back to the boat.

After that it was some more work on our boards, hacksawing the bolts flush. I also updated the android tablet with current charts for the west coast and Mexico. And then I hit the showers. Pro tip: if the showers are cheap and you are wearing quick dry synthetics, then why not start the shower wearing them and get some clothes washing done at the same time.

Back at the boat Nancy and Ken, who are Mexico cruisers and buddies of Tim and Donna were waiting for us so we could go out and grab a beer and a burger. We ended up at The Brown Lantern Ale House which is a lovely small town pub with friendly people and great service.

I chatted with Mark a bit—he’s the Bruce equivalent on Sea Esta. While he’s retired now, it turns out he was a Guinness comms and public relations guy and has lived all over the world. Talk about a sweet job. He is also on board until San Diego but he has a deadline since he’s got a flight to the UK to catch at the end of the month.
Back on board I did a bit of blogging and uploading with the marinas crappy free wifi and then hit the sack in anticipation of a 5:30 departure.

September 3

5:27 am depart

While Tim said I didn’t actually need to get up for our departure I woke up when the engine fired up and headed out on deck. I guess I got an extra half an hour sleep out of the deal.

Turns out the port running light was out. Luckily Tim had a LED patio light that had red as one of the options. He tied it to the port side of the cabin top and voila, problem solved. Later he discovered a bit of corrosion and managed to fix it properly.

Once again the magic coffee appeared and I sipped it as we made our way out the various passages in the dark on our way out to the Strait of Juan de Fuca. I think the food service in this boat is one of its best features. Seriously, Donna takes great care of us.

7:30 am
48° 26.4301′ N,122° 46.8465′ W

Crossing below Lopez Island, motoring straight into 15 knots of wind.

8:23

After we passed the bottom of Lopez Island we rolled out the jib and sailed along quite pleasantly for a while. Eventually we had to raise a double-reefed main so we could point a bit higher but holy mackerel this Baltic goes faster on just the jib than my Hunter usually does with full sails out.

9:00

Raised main with 2nd reef. Spotted some orca near the bottom of San Juan Island. We head in a little closer and watched as we sailed by.

11:00

10-15 knot winds with a 2 knot push has us up to 9 knots over ground. We sail past Victoria and I said hello again old chum.

12:10

48° 20.8495′ N,123° 27.2491′ W

Wind died in the lee of Royal Rhodes since we couldn’t point high enough to clear it. So we rolled in the jib and fired up the engine to clear Race Rocks.

Eventually we killed the engines again and sailed through Race Passage noting that Tim’s Lowrance still has a problem with showing the islets around Race rocks at certain zoom levels. We didn’t quite hit that invisible island but…

3:05 pm
48° 18.3264′ N,123° 47.9652′ W

Engines on again and we spot two humpbacks off port side. 2 minutes later several orca appear off the starboard. It’s a whale-apolooza!

We also spotted 3 cruise ships in a row inbound to Victoria—gonna be hopping there tonight.

4:57
48° 17.3705′ N,124° 2.7739′ W

Dozens of humpbacks. Dozens! I wouldn’t have been surprised if there were as many as 50 out there but the buggers are hard to count. We are surrounded on all sides. Tim spotted some breaching but I only saw the humongous splashes. But there were some diving and some resting on the surface and some just swimming around in no particular hurry. Every time we passed some by we would see more in the distance and the show went on and on.
We finally lost sight of the last one at around 5:45. Absolutely incredible. I got some great video.

After that it was basically motoring into current and wind, making about 4 to 5 knots for hours. I went below around 6:30 to lie down and read for an hour or so. While I was gone the tide finally switched again and we ended the trip doing around 8 knots.

9:08 pm
48° 22.4064 N, 124° 37.1292 W
Neah Bay, Wa

We are rafted up to Sea Esta who made it in an hour ahead (they motored more) while it was still light. It’s dark but it looks to be a fairly vibrant fishing community.

We enjoyed a communal dinner aboard Sea Esta and cracked open a welcome beer and made plans before hitting the sack.  It was 11 hours motoring or motor sailing in a 15 hour-ish day, but at least it was good sailing while it lasted. Tomorrow is a short day but it will be our first in the mighty North Pacific Ocean.

Forgive the odd image placement. It’s hard to do on the phone.

August 31

7:30 am
53° 16.0117′ N,113° 41.8405′ W

Up at some ridiculous hour and off we go. While it was bone dry at our condo we were surrounded in four sides by lightening. At 6 in the morning it is kind of eerie since your brain isn’t function at full speed yet. By the time we were half way round the Henday (our ring road) the rain had started and we just tried to keep out of the maniacal morning commuters’ way and still stay between the nearly invisible lines.

Still we made good time and arrived at the airport barely 40 minutes after leaving the front door. There was an tender but not so tearful goodbye and L drive off leaving me to my dates for the next few weeks.

For those who don’t already know I am joining my friends Tim and Donna on their Baltic 42 as they begin their journey to Mexico. I am just sailing the Vancouver to San Diego leg and get to miss all the boring stuff in the sunny south.

By the time I got through security and made my way down to gate bazillion-and-one I had barely sat down before they called the pre boarding. Since I had emergency row seats I got to stand right back up and board. We started boarding at 7:10 for an 8 o’clock flight. These things are getting more and more inefficient.

8:30 am
49° 16.2889′ N,123° 8.2490′ W

And hour and a bit later I grabbed my bag at YVR and after a bunch of waffling decided to grab a cab. It took me straight to Granville island with my overly heavy duffle and I waddled down the dock to where I saw Northwest Passage tucked up against a powerboat.

There was no one aboard so I called Tim. They were at Starbucks borrowing wifi so I dumped my gear aboard and headed out. The boat looked like it was still undergoing refitting more than something set to cruise a couple of thousand miles south but then boats always look like that up until the last minute.

After a quick greeting I headed off to visit West Marine while Tim and Donna headed back to the boat. I scoped out some prices and then walked a few more blocks to Steveston Marine chandlers. I picked up an inflatable off with an integrated harness and tried on a few jackets before deciding to buy the WestMarine house brand instead. So back I went and picked up a jacket and a pair of cruising boots (fancy sailing gumboots) and then hauled my loot back to the boat.

1 pm

The rest of the day was spent doing odds and ends. We installed a 110 plug in the vberth and a twin 12v/usb plug at the chart table. These were fairly simple jobs but involved a lot of boat yoga so I was a tad stiff later.

Next up was bolting deck rails on the stanchions for lashing spare tanks we have 1 gas tank, 4 diesel tanks and 4 water tanks, all 5 gallons each. Along the way I managed to drop Tim’s favourite crescent wrench overboard. Losing other people’s tools seems to be becoming a habit for me.

Once those were done we then worked on a grab rail for the dodger. this involved wonderful the docks trying to find something we could bend this 3-foot piece of stainless steel over so it would match the existing curve. Pretty much every system we came up with was almost guaranteed to kink the thing rather than add a bend but like the manly men we are we persevered. Well actually Tim persevered. I eventually got bored and wandered off after declaring the task impossible. Of course now we have a handy, perfectly curved, stainless steel grab rail attached to the front of the dodger so I guess we all know who won and crushed in that scenario.

Supper was a late night bbq’d steak and that was pretty much it for Day 1. I crawled into my berth and resolved to actually get organized later.

September 1

8:00 am departure

I wandered up to the shore to have a lovely hot 6 minute shower and was back on board and ready to go by 8. We were supposed to meet up with our traveling companion Sea Esta X out in English Bay by 8:30. Sea Esta is Tim’s boat, a Catalina 42, and he is also taking it south. His crew was joining us in Point Roberts where we would clear into the U.S.

The winds were South 10-15 knots so of course we were going south. We did roll out the jib and actually had a good sail with the winds climbing over 20 knots at one point. One long tack took us out towards Sandheads.

10:47
49° 7.1764′ N,123° 19.0649′ W

We spotted some dolphins around out among all the fishing boats at the mouth of the Fraser River.

A bit later we tacked to get closer to shore but right around Tsawwassen we gave up, rolled in the sail and motored the rest of the way.

1:57
Point Roberts
48° 58.5899′ N,123° 3.8183′ W

2 hours plus at customs. I’m not sure what kind of bureaucratic hell the CPB officers dwell in but it has to be some sort of punishment. There were multiple, multiple phone calls, visits from at least two different pairs of officers, more phone calls and contradictory instructions. But the only question they asked was what was my job which they decided was irrelevant since I was just heading home right away.

Eventually they did issue us our cruising license although they had to phone us the actual clearance number since their system kept crashing and we were free to cast off.

4:06 departure

In the long interim the winds had turned to light so we motored against the current towards Sucia Island. Intermittent dolphins visited along the way and we had a pleasant trip across the bottom of the Strait of Georgia.

6:56
48° 45.679′ N, 122° 54.951′ W
Sucia Island

After we pulled into Shallow Bay on the north side of Sucia I brought us alongside and we rafted to Sea Esta X rather than dropping our own hook. The Catalina is rather luxuriously appointed so we abandoned ship in favour of a cold beer under their canvas.

An hour or so later dinner on deck was corn and pollock burgers and then it was time to hit the sack.