Day 8

Top of the Mast

Yesterday (Monday) was our rig inspection day. No, we didn't go aloft ... we just cranked the winch! George had met Wendy in a sailmaking class. She and her partner, Daniel, rig and inspect. They are a great couple of people, and we thoroughly enjoyed working with them and visiting over lunch at SeaJay's.

They gave us some tips on improving our rig's stability - primarily mousing the shackles and guarding against chafe. ("Mousing" means putting a wire through to secure the shackle in case the pin drops out.) Since Nereid's rigging is only two years old we're in pretty good shape. There was one fairly serious problem: the radar reflector we'd had installed had shaken loose and was at risk of falling. Any object falling 60+ feet to a deck is sure to do some damage. We decided to stay another day in Port Townsend so Daniel could customize a new brace and reinstall the radar reflector. It was well worth it.

George diagnosed and repaired our water leak on Sunday. There's an unfinished piece of fiberglass (rough edge) where the cold water line leads to the hot water tank. We're not sure if that was the cause or if the original hose had a manufacturing defect, or if something caused the hose to heat and stretch. There was a 1/4" area that had gone thin and a pin size hole was there. Apparently, trouble can come in through a hole that small!

The only repair left to be made is to the Webasto forced-air heating system. George ran some further tests and determined the problem is not at the exhaust but is in the tubing system: either a gap or a blockage. Now that he's done with his sailmaking, he'll have weekdays to work on that.

His class now is in Oak Harbor, at the Skagit Valley College's Marine Technology center. It's an ABYC Electrical Certification course, and he is enjoying it. The instructor's dynamic and the curriculum practical: ideal for George.

George is single-handing it up to Oak Harbor aboard Nereid today, and we'll dock there until mid-May. (I'm transporting the car.) It's a calm, clear day, and I did everything I could think to make it comfortable for a one-at-the-wheel day. Of course I'll worry anyway, but he was happy with the prospect of a beautiful day on the water.

Oak Harbor's a military town. We wouldn't have thought twice about this if the Skagit College administrator hadn't recommended we have breakfast at Frank's Place.

Frank's Place is a shrine to war and warriors. We failed to notice the statuary in the parking lot, as we were in a hurry to eat. The interior walls are plastered with newspapers, photographs, uniforms, posters, etc., only two of them with positive messages about the peaceful conclusion of a war. We got a pretty friendly greeting, but--and maybe this is just in my head--the man who took our order looked like he'd as soon kill us as serve us. SPAM is on the menu, and the poached egg order came back fried, but I think my appetite was cut more by the photos. I recently edited a Vietnam veteran's memoirs, so I've got some pretty grisly images in my head, and the photos of bombing runs on the wall next to the table really brought those up for me. It's sort of "pancakes with a side of PTSD." We got the message that some people around here feel very positive and proud about their participation in a war, and I thought it showed good taste and some wisdom to not spit in their eye, so I removed our "Biodisel: No War Required" sticker from the car. Call me a weenie, but we're not getting biodiesel up here anyway.

The sun came out on Palm Sunday, and an eagle perched by our boat all morning. The otters are not shy, and the mountains are visible. As we said goodbye to Port Townsend this morning, we commented on how much we love the sounds of this place: the steeple clock and the mill whistle. George said in Gloucester the mill whistle always rang at 5 minutes before start/finish and break times and then again at start/finish and break times. It was so regular everyone assumed it was automated, but it turned out that all through the 1950s there was a man whose job it was to blow that whistle - and he always did so, on time.

Day 1 to Day 3

(*Warning: some of this will be a little graphic. Do not read it near mealtime if you have a sensitive stomach, unless you are the parent of a young child - in which case dealing with bodily fluids is just another day at the office.)

Day 1
We left Shilshole Sunday morning, waving goodbye to our wonderful neighbors who had come out to wish us "Bon Voyage!"

Motoring to make good time, we headed to the fuel dock for a small repair to one of the heads. It was easy to fix, glory be! The attendant at the fuel dock poured me coffee from his thermos, undermining my general cynicism about the state of generosity in our culture. (Mark Twain wrote that travel is lethal to prejudice and bigotry. So far, he was right.)

Then we headed out into Puget Sound. The water was choppy, and Wolfgang got seasick. I spent the morning cleaning up kitty vomit and diarrhea, then soundproofing everything below decks, which helped the cats settle. A couple of hours out, the water calmed, and the sun came out. We had blue sky and a smooth ride the rest of the day.

We pulled into Port Hadlock's dock with a smooth landing at 3:30pm; a good couple of hours earlier than we'd expected. There were at lesat 20 boats already anchored in the harbor, most of them resident. After tying up at the public dock, we walked up to the small 'business district' (one restaurant, 5 cottages and the Wooden Boat Center) to check out the quiet setting. We already felt a world away from stress.

Within 30 minutes Jaqi and Tor met us at the dock with our car, and we all headed for dinner at The Ajax (the sole restaurant at the top of the dock ramp). If you're ever up this way for an evening, call them and make reservations! The food is delicious and the ambience memorable. They have a collection of wild hats that most patrons choose to wear, and they have live music; for us, a pianist/harmonica player whose work covered Tom Waits and ranged into classical.

After dinner, George and Tor took Nereid out to find an anchorage, then George rowed Tor back to the dock in our new Port-a-Boat - it's a foldable, rigid 8' dinghy - much more stable than our inflatable. George rowed back to Nereid, and I drove Jaqi and Tor to the ferry, returning about 9pm. There was a new moon and a boatload of stars. George rowed over to pick me up: the night so dark I had to work at spotting him out on the water. It was reminiscent of Dunkirk, except his boat wasn't painted black. Ten minutes later we were at Nereid, settling in for our first night. George said he was especially happy that he'd been able to spend more quality time with his daughter, Jaqi, of whom he's so proud.

Day 2
We ran the diesel heater to stay warm during the night, the consequence being that the fan brought our amperage down to an unsettling level. George set up the wind generator. (Plug for Duo-Gen! It's been a great investment.) We rowed into the dock, George headed for his sailmaking class, and I went to town to find an internet cafe. At noon, George and I rowed back to Nereid for lunch and to check on the cats, who were doing fine. We rowed back with the laundry, and I spent the afternoon working on my computer at the town suds-n-duds. We both had a good day, operating in our new milleaus. (I was a domestic goddess that day! Cooked 3 meals, did laundry, grocery shopped ... Phew! I'm glad I got that out of my system.)

At 5:30 we rowed home, so I could cook up a game hen. We were keeping an eye on the amperage. The Duo-Gen was giving us a charge, but George decided to run the engines to help us out.

The engine wouldn't start! It would click, begin to turn over, and the fan belt would move an inch. George went into full troubleshooting mode. He got out his electrical equipment and books, me doing what I could to help with research. After a couple of hours he thought he'd narrowed it down to a solenoid. We dragged out the sleeping bag to keep us warm, piled wool blankets out for the cats, and went to bed, planning to call our friends at Miller & Miller in the morning.

Day 3
The day nearly began with a bang! The winds picked up, and our anchor started dragging (muddy bottom). We went into full defensive mode - getting out the Fortress anchor and preparing to fend off from a catamaran we were drifting towards.

I think it was Einstein who said the definition of insanity is trying the same thing again and again thinking you'll get different results. Thankfully, we ignored the stigma and tried our engine again. Thankfully, our engine started! Working as a team, we got our anchor up and headed the boat north. We called ahead and got a slip at Port Townsend's Boat Haven Marina. They had clocked winds up to 52 mph! After several attempts, we were able to get the lines on the dock and tie up.

Then it was below decks to clean up the mess. We'd had to leave too quickly to tie anything down, but we lost only one mug. And Wolfgang had given me another protest poop, but I figure that's fair payback for my hauling her out on the waters.

We're safe and sound. We'll be here until Sunday, then on to Oak Harbor.

George says we're getting exactly what we set out to get: experience. We've just been out in winds twice as high as we'd been in heretofore (and I can still use 3-syllable words!) Plus, we've had experience docking in those winds, troubleshooting (no end to that aboard any boat) and handling a dragging anchor. We are a much better team than when we started, and tonight we're pretty satisfied ... though very tired!