The Columbia Bar

Sailing with Dummies (Seattle to The Dalles Edition)
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
by Mike

Today I got up early to head toward the Columbia River. In order to get to the Columbia River, I first had to cross the Columbia Bar. The Columbia Bar is a system of bars and shoals at the mouth of the Columbia River. Since 1792, approximately 2,000 large ships have sunk in and around the Columbia Bar.

The nearby United States Coast Guard station at Cape Disappointment, Washington is renowned for operating in some of the roughest sea conditions in the world and is also home to the National Motor Lifeboat School. It is the only school for rough weather and surf rescue operation in the United States and is respected internationally as a center of excellence for heavy boat operations. Approximately 16 bar pilots, earning about $180,000/year, guide ships across the bar, often approaching the ships by helicopter.

I decided to go it alone. But I wanted to do it in the easiest of conditions; therefore, I took off around 5:30am so I could cross the bar between 11:00am and noon. That’s when I thought it would be the calmest. High tide and not much current. The NOAA forecast called for the worst conditions to be at 3:15am and 3:30pm. Those were the times to definitely not be on the bar.

It was cloudy with no fog. Visibility was about 6 miles. Not bad. The wind was finally favorable so I even raised a sail. With all the plans complete I spent most the morning reading a book. About 30 minutes from the channel I began to make final preparations. I put on foulies over my three layers since I would be outside at the steering wheel during the crossing. Made sure everything in the boat was tied down, in case the water got rough. Checked the latest weather forecast on the radio and on the internet. No change.

Then I went outside to double check the outdoor chartplotters and set them up as needed. The right chartplotter was dead. The left chartplotter was stuck on a starting screen. The channel was 15 minutes ahead. I lowered the sail and proceeded on slowed engines and the channel became 25 minutes ahead. It turned out that I needed 20 of that to get things right.

After lots of tries, including completely removing the chartplotter and refitting all the connections, I gave up on the right chartplotter. I was just about to turn around and head back out to sea to buy more time, but didn’t like the thought of that. With time ticking away my desired crossing time might pass. Five minutes before entering the channel the left chartplotter finally booted up and was running. I switched control of the engines to the left helm and relaxed a bit.

The channel begins a few miles out (about 30 boat-minutes) from the Columbia Bar itself. There were two ships coming out as I approached the bar. Other traffic on the bar was a good sign. The swell from the northwest had grown throughout the morning and was now probably more than eight feet. Wind speed was 25 knots from the same direction so the wind waves were just mixed in. As I turned northeast into the channel it got rough. The period of the swell was short.

Continuing toward the bar the swell lessened and the ride got better. Both of the ships were out of the way so I could concentrate on watching the water. It looked normal to me. Crossing the area that is reputed to be the worst the ride improved to almost smooth. I thought, “this is it?”

I was getting distracted with the scenery, which is very pretty, when I noticed birds everywhere. Hundreds of them were in the water and in the air. Then the ride went from smooth to rough. The boat was tipping all different directions and started yawing back and forth. Then it took a strong swing to the left, stayed that way for a few seconds, and then headed back in the original direction.

That was it. That was my Columbia Bar crossing. It lasted about 20 seconds. Then the birds were gone and the water was even smoother.

I parked the Minnow at the Astoria Marina. Bob is flying in tomorrow and then we’ll head up to The Dalles to see Uncle Meredith.

Daily Cuisine: Today was breakfast on the boat and McDonald’s for a late lunch. Supper was off the boat too, so it doesn’t really count.

Fog

Sailing with Dummies (Seattle to The Dalles Edition)
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
by Mike

The fog continued all night and all morning. And all day. Water temperature was high 40s. Air temperature was mid 40s – until late afternoon when it broke into the 50s.

I left Puget Sound through the Strait of Juan de Fuca and arrived in the Pacific Ocean proper around 2:00am. Giving Cape Flattery a wide berth, I turned left and headed down the west coast of the United States. I stayed about 8-10 miles off the coast of Washington. It was just outside of cell-phone range which cut me off from the world. That was nice for a change.

The fog limited visibility to about a quarter mile most of the time. By late afternoon I was near Grays Harbor, where I planned to stop and anchor for the night. It is kind of scary entering a new harbor in the fog. Also, Grays Harbor bar (the sand bar in the ocean) can be tricky sometimes where the tide meets the out-flowing current of water from rivers and does strange things in the changing depths. The weather reports forecast it to be “light-to-moderate” conditions on the bar.

I relied on GPS and radar to keep me in the right spot. And to keep me from running into buoys. Or other boats. It was desirable to keep the speed of the boat fairly fast to ensure good maneuverability in case a strange current appeared. So I had to trust the GPS and radar.

The channel leading into the harbor is marked with several buoys. Green on the left and red on the right (when returning to the harbor). The charts showed where the buoys were, and the GPS chartplotter showed where the Minnow was. I sat outside and peered into the fog hoping to see a buoy. Sure enough at about a quarter mile the shadowy image of a buoy started to appear. Luckily it was right where the chartplotter said it should be.

The rest of the buoys showed themselves as I continued down the channel. It was interesting that sometimes the buoys would disappear into the fog for a few moments, even when they were as close as 100 yards away. The buoys also have bells that ring as they bob in the water. They sound eerie in the fog. Probably they sound the same in sunshine, but it seemed like they sounded eerie. Hmm.

The anchor was set and I laid down for a nap around 6:30pm; I was tired. The fog made it really comfy and easy to drift off. About 7:15 I awoke with the sensation of sun shining in my eyes. That sure made me wonder where I was. I got up and, sure enough, the fog had lifted and the last hour of the day was sunny. After 24 hours of nothing but fog, it was nice to see the shore.

Daily Cuisine:
There’s still a water leak still hiding on the left side of the boat. That is the side that feeds the kitchen. So, with no water in the kitchen to wash dishes, I opted mainly for easy to eat food. It’s a nice way to justify being lazy. Some items from today’s menu were pop-tarts, popcorn, crackers, cheese, potato chips, tostito chips (and salsa), bologna sandwich (extra thick) and the rest of the oatmeal cookies. I’m pretty sure I gained weight today.

Sailing with Dummies (Seattle to The Dalles Edition)
Monday, April 20, 2009
by Mike

This morning I didn’t even mind the cold. Well, okay, I minded it some. But I was more focused on getting last minute things done in order to take off. I was excited!

Checking around the boat, I found that the left water tank was empty and the left water pump was running. That’s 400 liters (more than 100 gallons) of water gone. A counter on a bilge pump on the left side of the boat showed 18. That means that it took 18 cycles of the bilge pump to empty the 100+ gallons that leaked into left side of the boat. I still don’t know where the leak is, but I turned off the pump and refilled the tank.

Eventually I got around to driving away from the dock. The wind was light, but it’s a tight fit so I was kind of tense about not banging the 43,000 pounds of the Minnow into other boats. Things started out well, I was edging my way forward with small bursts from the left and right engines. Then the left transmission refused to go forward. This was not good.

In order to steer the Minnow at slow speeds it’s necessary to use the left and right engines independently. Sometimes forward and sometimes reverse. It’s actually easy to spin the boat in 360 degree circles in the same place. To spin to the right, just put the left engine forward and the right one in reverse and it spins right around. To make a sharp right turn, do the above and stop the spin after 90 degrees.

Out of the parking place the boat needed make a sharp right turn. With no forward on the left engine I was forced to use Plan B. Plan B was a 46-point-turn. It’s not fast and it’s not pretty. Using the rudder and right engine back and forth a bunch of times, I eventually got the boat to turn “rightish.” The Minnow left the dock without touching another boat. Whew! (this took about 20 minutes)

Once the Minnow has some forward speed, it’s simple to steer using the rudder. So once clear of the marina and in open water it was simple to drive. My worries should have been over. Except that I needed to pull into the next dock area to fill up with diesel. It took two laborious tries, but 1.5 hours later I was back in the open water heading for openness of Puget Sound.

It felt great to be out on the salt water with fresh air. Few concerns and few boundaries. One of the first things I noticed, as I was coiling dock lines and putting up bumpers, was a big, grey, majestic ship. It looked like it was sitting still in the water. There were lots of soldiers lined up on deck. As I was finishing up the lines and bumpers I noticed it was getting bigger.

I rushed inside, hoping I hadn’t missed a radio call from the Navy ship, and checked its bearing and speed. Then I veered off 30 degrees to the right to give it plenty of space. It was going 14.1 knots. I was going 7.5 knots. Before long it passed me. I waved and took some pictures. After it passed me it veered 40 degrees to the right and gained speed. Oops.



Other than a friendly encounter with the huge, high-speed ferry boat, the rest of my sailing was uneventful (the ferry boat was nice enough to make a turn to avoid me, thank you very much). My plans were to make Neah Bay for and overnight anchorage. It was a beautiful sunny day in Puget Sound. Other than being cold, I couldn’t have asked for better conditions. Unless I would have asked for favorable winds.



Question: If I’m in a sailboat traveling from one place to another without the use of sails or wind, am I sailing?



The sun was bright ahead and I was expecting a gorgeous sunset. About an hour before dark I “sailed” into a fog bank. With Neah Bay two hours ahead I thought about struggling to anchor in an unknown harbor in the fog in the dark.

I opted to continue through the night. It felt great to “sail” (solely under diesel power) into the Pacific. Even in the fog in the dark, it felt great. Maybe tomorrow I will raise a sail.

Daily Cuisine:
Some people say the first day at sea makes them queasy. Some expect to be seasick for a day or two. For some reason I find myself wanting to eat a lot. Always health-conscious, I opted to begin with oatmeal-chocolate-chip cookies (rather than chocolate-chip cookies). As usual (Barb taught me this) most of the cookie dough was eaten prior to cooking. I must admit that I enjoyed the extra few degrees the oven brought to the inside temperature. Still ravenous from being at sea, I continued with potato salad, apple, bagel with cream cheese, banana (with peanut butter), cheese and crackers, popcorn, ravioli, and several diet colas.

Taking the Minnow out of Mothballs

Sailing with Dummies (Seattle to The Dalles Edition)
Sunday, April 19, 2009
by Mike

The Minnow sat wintering for eight months in the same parking spot. In Port Everett Marina, just north of Seattle. Shortly after arrival here, Josh and Melinda did a superb job removing perishables and gave her a thorough cleaning, inside and out. Then she sat, unoccupied. For eight months.

Friday I headed to Seattle to begin southward with the Minnow. When I got to the dock, I was pleasantly surprised to see a clean boat. The dock lines were all reasonably tight, and everything looked to be in good shape. The worst I could see was where moss, algae, mildew, and stuff like that had found some homes here and there.

There were several things to do to get the Minnow ready to go. I started with some simple things … checked the bilge pump counters, looked for leaks, got the shore power going, defrosted the freezer, turned on the fresh water pumps. Bob visited Melinda, and the Minnow, in January and reported that the fresh water pumps didn’t work. They still didn’t work. I decided to tackle the fresh water system in the morning.

Saturday morning I woke up cold. It was 59 degrees in the living room (I slept in the living room since it was about 10 degrees warmer than the bedrooms) and 41 outside. Heck with trying to plumb in frigid conditions – I got in the car, set the temperature to “oven” and tried to find a Walmart or a bookstore. After close to an hour, I found a Borders. It didn’t open until 10:00a. It was only 7:45, but I was warm!

It was late morning when I returned to the Minnow with groceries and a book. I proceeded to attack the fresh water system. By early evening both left and right water systems were working.

I’d enjoyed a plumbing festival that included several thrilling trips to marine suppliers and resulted in plenty of rewarding nicks and cuts on my hands. I had replaced both water pumps, replaced fuses, reset breakers, drained water, cleaned up after spraying leaks, removed and temporarily capped both showers and probably some other things. As it turns out, it was an unusually cold winter in Washington. Thus, the freeze damage.

Sunday morning was almost as cold and Saturday. It featured the discovery of more water leaks, more parts needed, more “isometric plumbing” and late in the day, the detection of a locked up transmission shifter. By Sunday evening I was getting eager to leave and get out on the water. This boat fixing is for the birds. Monday morning the Minnow will go to sea!

Daily Cuisine: In preparation for sailing I decided to “carb up.” That’s just an excuse to eat a lot, which I did. Pizza. Melinda took me to Lombardi’s and let me feed her for her taxi services.

Sailing with Dummies (Alaska to Seattle Edition)

Wednesday-Tuesday, August 7- September 2, 2008

by Mike

Wednesday I got up early and took off in the rain, motoring toward Canada. Prince Rupert Canada. It was fairly rough during the morning, with 15-foot waves from the side. These got smaller as the wind decreased. By mid-afternoon the wind picked up and was coming almost directly from Price Rupert. That was a condition I was getting familiar with. Eventually, I docked at a fishing dock in Prince Rupert and slept peacefully that night.

The next day Bob showed up with Cathy, Melinda, Josh, and Patty. I invited them all to go with me. Patty was the only taker. Apparently not enough time had passed since Bob, Cathy, Melinda, and Josh had spent time with me on a boat. It takes time for a person’s memory to fade a proper amount. Just ask Serge.

Friday morning we woke up to sunshine! Patty informed me that she was Ta’Veran, and thereby responsible for the good weather. Very similar to Fullerton claiming to be Methodist, if you asked me. In any case, I rejoiced at the good weather and we took off headed south.

For the next 36 hours we sailed (actually we primarily motored, although a sail was up most of the time) south through Hecate Strait, through Queen Charlotte Sound, and into Queen Charlotte Strait, where we anchored for the night. It a nice trip. We saw whales several times and could see the shorelines and mountains. Very nice. But it was not to be completed without a sizeable disaster.

After lunch on Friday we were still zigzagging through a bunch of islands south of Prince Rupert. I decided to get the Scrabble game out and prepare to administer a sound thrashing to my wife. Naturally she was scared. And I, while confident, behaved very humbly. We got the board out on the table. We settled a slight disagreement over who would keep score (I always have to keep score – it’s not fair!). Then we discovered that the tiles had mold on them. Blah!

Patty put the tiles in some soap and water to soak them. In order to make sure the mold died, I added some bleach. A couple of hours later Patty started to rinse off the tiles so we could play. But we couldn’t play. The letters had come off the tiles. Double blah! And to top it all off, Patty blamed me for adding bleach (of course, it’s obvious to everyone else that she left them in the soap too long). Women!

We anchored Saturday evening in a Mitchell Bay on Malcolm Island in Queen Charlotte Strait in British Columbia in Canada and dined on grilled steak and lots of trimmings. We also slept well that night since the previous night we were on the water using the tag-team watch system.

Sunday took us through Johnstone Strait and down the Campbell River. The Campbell River has some impressive currents. Sometimes they were with us. Sometimes not. The most impressive currents we encountered were rounding a corner to the left, just north of the town, Campbell River. We had more 7-8 knots of current pushing us along. Up ahead we could see rough water, even though there was little wind. The current was changing.

As we got closer to the rough water we could see large, flat calm places, maybe 100-200 yards in diameter. And next to them would be larger areas whipped into a frenzy with whitecaps. Along the borders of these calm and rough areas were occasional waves of pretty good size. The areas were constantly moving and changing from calm to rough and so forth. These conditions were visible for nearly a mile. There were some jet-skis and small boats that came out at high speed and jumped the waves that were created by the conditions.

Entering these waters was kind of unsettling. Our speed over ground was 16-18 knots. Our speed through the water was 9-10 knots. We got even more unsettled when we started noticed huge whirlpools here and there. By now I was hand-steering the boat, trying to avoid anything that looked unfriendly. I definitely wanted to avoid the whirlpools. I estimated the diameter of several of them at 3-4 times the boat length. The center of them might have gone 10-15 feet down. They sure materialized quickly, but they didn’t last long. And yes, one materialized right in front of us.

Going into the whirlpool was uneventful. Just a strong turning sensation. Going out of the whirlpool was not as ordinary. The momentum of the turning boat came to an abrupt halt as we exited the rotating water. This was translated into a huge jolt on the boat which knocked several things on the floor. Things that had stayed in place in rough 15-foot seas. The small boats and jet-skis were still zipping around like mosquitos, darting back and forth and jumping every wave they could find.

A few minutes later we were back to normal water. Soon, our speed over ground was down to 14 knots. And within four hours we had a head current and were traveling along below 8 knots. We made it to False Bay on Lasqueti Island that night.

Monday morning we headed home to the US of  A. Early in the afternoon we arrived at Point Roberts to check in with US Customs and Border Homeland Security Patrol (or whatever their name is this week). They have a special customs dock to tie up to. It was kind of windy, blowing 45 degrees off the dock at 15-20 knots. There were some boats already tied up and in the way. It was Labor Day (or Memorial Day, I get them mixed up) and there were lots of boats going in and out of the bottleneck by the customs dock. I thought to myself, “this is going to take some work to get parked there without some property damage.”

Somehow I got the boat backed in and over to the open spot at the same time a guy was walking by with a sandwich in his hand. He slowed and made eye contact, which meant to me that he was offering to help. So I tossed him the rope from the back of the boat and he responded by wrapping it around the cleat, one-handed. I got the front rope ashore and the boat was somewhat secure. What a relief. Parked within two minutes, and no damage. Until this lady came to the side of the boat and begged “can you move your boat back, my husband needs more room to park there.”

Twenty minutes and lots of rope wrestling later I had the boat tied up a few feet further back. Being a holiday the Customs people were thick. There were several on the dock, with dogs, and more up on shore. They sent Patty and I up to a building to “check in” while they searched our boat with dogs. Thirty minutes later we were untying ropes, headed south again. We cleaned up the dog prints on the kitchen counter later.

We spent our last night at anchor in an inlet on the south end of Lopez Island in the San Juan Islands of Washington.

Tuesday morning we motored in calm waters to Everett, a suburb of Seattle. We parked the Minnow there for awhile.

 

 

Sailing with Dummies (Alaska to Seattle Edition)

Thursday-Tuesday, August 21-26, 2008

by Mike

There’s a good reason sailors recommend ending their Alaskan sailing in July. It’s shown up over the last few days. We had great weather for Glacier Bay – light winds and sun – and before that good a day here and there. But since then we have had rain, fog, and wind every day. Fall is coming in Alaska.

Since we left Gustavus we stopped in Hoonah for a night and did laundry and waited for the weather to clear. It rained all day and all night while we were there. We left the next morning, heading south down Chatham Strait. Motoring. Most of the time we couldn’t see any shore due to the fog and rain. We anchored the first night a Chaik Bay and the second night at Noyes Island.

Sunday we motored into Craig. Craig is the largest town on Prince of Wales Island. Fullerton packed his stuff and took off on a float plane for Ketchikan and on to Oklahoma from there. I filled up the boat with diesel and parked at the local dock.

Monday I made a quick dash south to Security Cove. It was intended to be a quick dash, but head winds of 25-35 knots and waves that got as high as 10-12 feet made my average speed little more than 4 knots. So I anchored in Security Cove and checked the weather forecast. The gap in the weather that I was hoping for didn’t materialize. In fact, the forecast had worsened.

So I stayed at anchor all day Tuesday, waiting to leave on Wednesday. It rained heavily all day. The wind came up around noon and ranged from 30-45 knots. I was concerned about the anchor dragging and stayed in foul-weather gear all afternoon. The rain was still cold.

At one point the harness holding the anchor chain broke. This caused the boat to yaw back and forth, putting a lot more strain on the anchor and the chain. It took me about 20 minutes to get another harness on. Even at anchor, it’s challenging to work outside in 40+ knots of wind and rain.

I sure was relieved to see the wind decline to 20-30 knots in the evening. Good thing I didn’t venture outside the cove today. Fall might already be here in Alaska.

Sailing with Dummies (Alaska to Seattle Edition)

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

by Mike

Another sunny day greeted us as we headed up Muir Inlet. It is a several hour trip each way up and back the inlet. There were patches of floating ice here and there that we had to avoid. We saw several glaciers along the way. None of them were remarkable, but the mountains surrounding them were remarkable.

On the way out we anchored near McBride Glacier and took the dinghy ashore. We walked around on the wet much below the glacier. It’s not sand, it’s more like a fine grey powder. Dirty. Lightweight kind of like talcum powder.

We anchored near the dock at Gustavus. We didn’t know what was there so we took the dinghy to the dock and walked toward town. And walked. And walked some more. Finally someone picked us up and drove us into “town.” It was about 8:15 and everything closed at 8:00. So we walked and walked and walked back to the docks.

Daily Cuisine:

Fullerton cooked ham and eggs and biscuits for breakfast. We had major-big chef salads for a late lunch. Supper was uneventful.

Sailing with Dummies (Alaska to Seattle Edition)

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

by Mike

No rain today! The sun started teasing us early in the day and came out for good in the afternoon. We could see the Fairweather Mountains about 50 miles away.

We weaved our way through miles and miles of ice on the way to Johns Hopkins inlet. Along the way we saw Reid Glacier, Lamplugh Glacier, Toyatte Glacier, Hoonah Glacier, Gilman Glacier, and finally Johns Hopkins Glacier. None were spectacular but all were interesting to see. Some of them were putting ice into the sea and some of them ended pretty far above the water and the ice melted before it hit the sea.

Next we headed up Tarr Inlet. There wasn’t as much ice to dodge, and weren’t as many glaciers along the way. At the end of the inlet were Pacific Glacier (dirty and ugly) and Margerie Glacier (pretty and blue).  A 966-foot Holland America cruise boat got there about the same time we did. They hovered next to the bigger ugly glacier while we hovered next to the pretty one.

There were lots of cracking noises while we waited for ice to break off. Lots of huge chunks of ice broke off. They were spectacular as they cracked and fell away into the water, splashing and making big waves. One especially big chunk came off. It was maybe 60 feet high and 20-30 feet wide. Fullerton got some good pictures of it. It’s hard to tell from the pictures how big it actually was. It was enormous.

We went to North Sandy Cove to anchor for the night in preparation for our last day in Glacier Bay. Although we have seen a total of only three other private boats so far, we are required to leave tomorrow to make room for more boats to come here (the guy pressured us to minimize our days – the girl told us they were not busy at all, with only maybe ten private boats expected (25 maximum private boats per day)).

Daily Cuisine:

Cinnamon rolls, sloppy joes, and fried rockfish got us through the day.

Sailing with Dummies (Alaska to Seattle Edition)

Monday, August 18, 2008

by Mike

The rain had stopped by the time we raised the anchor and took off for Glacier Bay, but it was still cloudy and foggy. The good news was that we could clean off the windows and look out for ice from the inside.

Once we got outside the cove we encountered a 5-knot current. Against us. That sure slowed us down. Luckily it only lasted a short time. Within a half hour it was down to two knots against us. By the time we got near Bartlett Cove, there was no notice able current.

The Ranger Station at Bartlett Cove is the place to check in to enter Glacier Bay. We called them on the radio and they said to come to the office to do the paperwork. Another boat called and had their permit onboard, and they told them to come to the office to do paperwork. A third boat showed up at the office without calling on the radio. All three boats got in “trouble” for not following proper procedures. The guy must have said “federal regulation” at least 20 times. He advised me that the latest published Coast Pilot is out of date. Hmm.

After nearly an hour in his office we started to leave and I asked for a copy of our permit. He said I didn’t need one. I politely advised him that it was a “federal regulation” that we have a copy of the permit onboard at all times while in glacier bay. He mumbled something about “processing” and told us to go on without it. This guy was a joke.

Needless to say, Fullerton and I were not impressed with our welcome to Glacier Bay. But once we got done with the guy trying to act tough, everyone else was really nice. We met Will Smith (a white guy from Fayetteville, not the actor) and Amanda, who both wanted to know where Melinda was. They came on board to look around and told us lots of helpful information about Glacier Bay (although they were not helpful with any fishing tips).  Will Smith even went with us to the fuel dock and personally witnessed some of my boat-docking prowess.

We ate lunch in the lodge restaurant and met some more people, all very nice. We even stumbled onto some good local fishing information. (Not from any park workers – they all seemed to frown on fishing. They all acknowledged that fishing was permitted, but they looked down their nose at us as they condescended that information.)

We pulled out of Bartlett Cove and headed deeper into Glacier Bay. We saw lots of whales, but mainly off in the distance. We explored a place called Tidal Inlet.

The second time we anchored, the shore looked awfully close. Fullerton said he wanted to do the “orange test.” I had no idea what he was talking about. As it turns out, the Minnow has dozens of oranges and he’s the only one that eats an occasional orange. They are sitting in a laundry basket outside in the cockpit. Fullerton walked back and grabbed an orange from the basket. Then he studied the orange and polished it in his hands. Finally he threw the orange toward the shore as far as he could. It floated in the water a lot closer to the boat than to the shore. He was satisfied. Turns out we were about 200 yards from shore. Things are larger than they appear in Alaska.

In the middle of Tidal Inlet we turned off the engines and floated for a few minutes. There was no wind. We looked at the shore and both guessed how far away it was. It looked close. It looked about 30-40 yards away. Being veterans of Alaska distance-guessing, we guessed 200 yards. Then we looked on the chartplotter and found out it was 600 yards away. That’s six football fields. Things are larger than they appear in Alaska.

We left Tidal Inlet and went to anchor at Blue Mouse Cove. I have no idea how it got the name. But it was sure cold enough to turn a mouse blue.

Daily Cuisine:

Breakfast was bacon, eggs, and grits. The lodge served Fullerton steak and served me deluxe nachos.

Sailing with Dummies (Alaska to Seattle Edition)

Sunday, August 17, 2008

by Mike

The day started with a beautiful sunrise. This, plus Fullerton’s heater, plus using the oven to cook croissants, brought the indoor temperature up to the mid 60s by 8:00am. What a glorious Sunday morning. Fullerton took full credit for it. He said he has a “temple” set up in his bedroom that he uses to bring good weather. After days of almost constant rain I asked him “what happened for the last four days?” He told me it was a Methodist temple.

Around 10:00am the clouds removed the sunlight. Around 10:15am the rain started. It rained all day and all night. I asked Fullerton about his temple again.

We were getting close to land again, after spending two nights at sea. We headed to Inian Cove to anchor for the night. Once we got the anchor set we fished. Because of the cold wind, the rain, and the darkness (and no bites) the fishing lasted only a few minutes. Then we ate and movie-watched.

Daily Cuisine:

Grilled halibut made a good lunch. By supper we were feeling Mexican-food-deprived, so we had burritos.